I was gonna keep the memories

but then I decided that I don’t need them. Plus the fact that I really don’t want to keep them. I mean, he means absolutely nothing to me now, and to keep stuff that relates to him is crazy. I used to think, “One day, my kids might want to know things and I can show them with my diaries and shit, or one day I’ll just want to revisit”, but now I think, “Nah. Fuck it. I have a mouth. I can just tell them. I don’t want to ever be reminded of the shit I put up with dating Ex Boyfriend”.

So all the posts, all the pictures, all the everything: Gone. Deleted. And I couldn’t care less. If I want to think about it one day, which is highly unlikely, I can just do that. Think about it.


I didn’t HAVE to “know” her.

Excuse the very vague titles by the way. I’ve always sucked at those.

Anyways, my great grandmother passed away around 1:30 a.m. Sunday morning. And this isn’t really going to be a depressing post about how much I miss her and what not, not because I’m insensitive, but because I really didn’t get on a personal basis with her and didn’t really know her as a person. I just kind of knew her as the really old great grandma that doesn’t speak English (which was the absolute biggest problem because I didn’t speak Spanish), liked to show me her bunions, and liked horses. Except… I didn’t know she liked horses until about 2 weeks ago. So she was just the Spanish-speaking old great grandmother obsessed with showing me her bunions.

But she was my great grandmother. Great. Did I really have to know her that much to miss her? Maybe I’m not going to break down and be burdened with her death for months to come, but it still hurts, you know? Those memories are enough for me to say, “Damn. I live in a world where Grandma Mercy doesn’t exist. This sucks”.

So, she doesn’t speak English right? But she still loved to listen to me “sing” when I was little. I would stand on a little stump out in my Abuela’s back yard and sing to my great granny “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, and I could not even begin to describe how much joy there was in her eyes watching me, or just how much more her smile glowed, or how elated she was just to be there. With her great granddaughter. Watching her sing. Yeah, my voice suck ass, but all grandparents love to watch grandchildren be grandchildren and be all cute and stuff. Even if they don’t understand a damn thing they’re saying.

Yeah. I miss her.

And I was expressing this to Babe and how in Cuba they wear black for three days and don’t listen to the radio or watch tv (apparently), and he says, “Why? That’s stupid. You didn’t even know her”. I have to say, that made me a little mad. I can’t respect her, her tradition, her family, MY family, miss or love her because I wasn’t buddy-buddy with her? She will forever be the Spanish-speaking old great grandmother obsessed with showing me her bunions and loved to listen to me sing. And loved casinos. Shit, she loved casinos.

I didn’t HAVE to “know” her.

Crayon Art.

That shit is so cool. If you can do it right.


I want to make that one for le step mom just because I know she likes beaches and what not. There another one I want to try to make for Babe, but I’m not really sure what to do because day one: I thought it was the best idea every. Day two: Okay, maybe I don’t like the colors. Day three: I don’t like the fact that you can see the crayons. Day four: It’s the worst idea ever. See, every time I look back at it the idea seems to get worse and worse, but deep down it’s still something I want to do. How exactly to do it? What canvas to use? What colors to use? What method to use? Do I know anything? Nope. No fucking clue. I’ll hopefully figure it out eventually.

But still. Crayon art is really cool if you can do it correctly.

You Gotta Love Family…

Even if you don’t want to. They just do things and say things and it makes you want to scream and fight your entire family and maybe curse them out; but you don’t. And you let your anger subside and then you like them for 5 minutes and then they’re saying something ridiculous again.

That’s just the way family works though. And you have to love it. Because you know that you say things not everyone agrees with, but they still love you.

If you guys didn’t know, my parents are divorced and I’m mixed. I’m half Cuban and half Lao (like in LOU-d; that’s from Laos in Asia. Right next to Thailand. Know where I’m talking about now? Yeaahhh). And then my Cuban dad has two sisters and they both married non-Cubans. One reproduced with a white guy and the other with a black guy. And then, we have my Lao mom who has two brothers. One has no kids and one also produced hispanic-asian babies by marrying a Colombian. So, my family pretty much covered the whole rainbow.

My Cuban family is mean as hell! Okay, they’re not mean, they just do what I guess normal families do, which is pick on one another, but I don’t like it. I’m a sensitive little thing. They really do not understand that the things they say may hurt someone’s feelings. But they’re all like that, so they’re used to it. I guess I’m the only one who has a problem with it. And I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if people outside the family felt the same way or have ever been told something that hurt their feelings. So, they don’t really mean to be mean, but they are. But in all honesty, if it’s not about me then I’m right there with them chuckling. Not laughing because I still feel bad.

The Asians? They have a nicer kind of humor. But we still do things like laugh at my uncle’s strong accent or we’ll also laugh at the quirks that hide within people.

But I guess that’s why you gotta love family. Not many understand your inside jokes. Not many understand the traditions. Not many understand even why you may be yelling at someone not even 3 feet away or why Abuelo farting is so amusing and funny. Not many understand that they might not mean to hurt your feelings and to not take it personally. Even if you do forget all of that sometimes, too. Family all get on each other’s nerves, but you know, “whatever”.

Lao-sy Cuban 4 eva. ❤

So Babe always gets mad at me for having pretty much 100% guys friends. I have the ability to get along with girls; it’s not like I’m catty or a complete bitch, but I’m just not really interested in having girl friends in high school.

You guys know that I talk about relationships and guys kind of a lot right? But that’s why I have a blog. I don’t really feel like “talking it out” with someone alll the time. Isn’t that kid of the point of girl friends though? I don’t know. Sure it is. But if that’s the case then don’t expect me to have more than one or two.

Most of the time I like to believe that I’m a little more mature than a lot of the people my age. So all their fads and their new lingo and dances? Leave me out. Please. I’m 98% of the time just as clueless as the next person over 30.

Anyways, so I’d rather make girl friends in college and above. When all they’re worried about is not guys. Because if I tried to have a casual conversation with the girls now without bringing up guys then it would seen really boring and awkward.