Chi’s blog

I went to DR on July 4^th and returned to the states on the 12^th.  I flew into Santiago because I was originally going to stay with my little sister and her family but then I changed plans and had my grandma and uncle pick me up and take me to the capital.  On our way to the capital I stopped by the place where I spent a couple of my childhood summers.  It was the place where my 20 yr old grandfather ended up, after getting on the back of a truck with no money in his pockets, from los Cerros de Gurabo, Santiago.  I was at El Puerto – Villa Altagracia. 

 

What a rush of memories.  Incredible.  I had visited about 8 years ago, but when I went I didn’t see all of my family – many of them had already grown up and started their own lives, all 9 of my mother’s brother and sisters so I was anxious to learn more about them. 

 

I wanted to explore the ‘backyard’ which is acres and acres of endless land, but I no longer knew the routes.  I didn’t know where I could go, and where the rio started, or where it would take me. I was just as curious as I was as a child, just less courageous to actually go trek the land of the red mud. The land that ruined tons of my shoes as a kid.

 

I yearned for freshly squeezed milk and once I had it, super cold, I wondered what the crap I was thinking. It was so weird and different from what I imagined.  I used to love it as a kid and now I though, oh my god, way too natural – hurry, throw me some pasteurized something! I had to throw it out on the sneak tip – I felt so bad.

 

My grandparents are the only people that I still know that probably grow, kill, and milk or harvest everything they consume. That shit is awesome – talk about putting a stamp of ‘organic’ in their kitchen. 

 

As a kid my grandparents had a cherry tree – but it wasn’t a regular old cherry tree, it was a cereza tree and I have no clue what the translation is in English but all I know is that those little bad boys were green, yellow, orange and red, and were little bits of heaven in my mouth with every single bite that I took.  Literally.

 

Mi abuela used to make the best dulces from them, like a mermelada that you could eat with crackers – oh man, how i want some right now.

 

I took a picture of me on my way there – to my grandparents – in my uncle’s naturally air conditioned car – aka – w/ the windows open.  That’s actually a funny story.  This trip to DR was a big deal – since I hadn’t gone in so long and because I was going sin mami ni papi, it was a big deal.  I was so nervous because of how they describe DR now, and how bad times are and because I’m hot and wear jewelry. The last thing I needed was to get stabbed, shot, robbed or raped – but of course, all those things came to mind, to I’m sure not only me, but to my dad, because he was the first to say that he wanted me to sort of a have a bodyguard – aka one of my cousins with military connections and a gun to accompany me at all times. I was like wtf – you have to be kidding me, but a lil’ bit of me wanted to be ‘protected’. 

 

I opted for the Hilton Santo Domingo instead. I said f that.  The Hilton is my comfort zone, regardless of where its at. I know how they function, the rooms, the quality, etc. so that’s what I’ll deal with. 

 

Now back to the bodyguard…lol…my dad was trying to convince me to let this cousin of mine stay with me and one of the things he said was ‘el tiene una jipeta con aire’ aka a jeep with AC – that’s a big deal…lol….my mom told my dad no, because my uncle would be picking me up and el tenia aire tambien…a bueno…

 

I arrive in DR shitting bricks because I don’t remember the process of arriving…I just remember my mom spazzing on some dude that was trying to get all up in our maleta so I was ready to attack…I didn’t need to…but when I saw my uncle, I asked my grandma – y el tiene aire (does he have ac?) and she responds, el si, pero el carro no…(he does, but the car doesn’t)

 

Great.

 

My beautiful hair was now going back to its roots – wayyyyyyyyyyy back…that’s all I thought…meanwhile, it survived a layover in puerto rico, and survived being on a toy plane w/ no AC for about an hr…the plane was so hot that I fell asleep with my arms in the air, like a loca, because that was the only way I could really feel whatever ac they thought they were giving us. Imagine. It was so hot that I was like in an instant coma, with my onion hair-do that I think im almost famous for…

 

Anyway, back to the pic and the hair…I took a pic of myself on the drive to my grandparents w/ the windows up (duh) and my hair flying…by the time I left my grandparents and got to the capital, where I was staying, my hair was unmanageable. It was the most knotted ive ever felt it in years – luckily it still looked good.

 

This is just a taste as to how my trip in DR was...there is more to come :)

 

Oh wait - before I forget, I already mentioned I hadn't been back to the island for 8-9 years...well...what I also forget to say is that some of my family members hadn't seen me since my really early days, like when I was 3/4...here is a memory of how they last saw me (before this trip of course!)

 

This is a picture that my grandparents have in their home, its 8X10 and nicely preserved and I just had to take a picture of it, because, well, I just had to. Big man in pic is my grandfather, lil' cute lady in the yellow dress is my aunt Ruth (about 32 yrs old now), next in line is my intelligent aunt Wilda (youngest aunt, 29 yrs old), my brother is making a special appearance in the back (he's 27 now), lil' hottie in the pink w/ the bow in her hair is my beautiful cousin Noemi (27 yrs old) and last, but absolutely not least, is me.  I was about 3 or 4 years old and had finally started growing enough hair to resemble a little healthy girl lol.

 

Imagine the shock in my family's eyes when they saw me...yea - I went from being la chichi to being diablo que mujerona. 

Ironically enough, the last blog I wrote, I wrote on the plane, on my way home from Dallas.  I haven’t been home since July 4^th and I had 2 of the heaviest bags I’ve ever traveled with today.  One, because I went to DR, and I know over there you have to change a couple of times because of the heat and because of everything I wanted to do, two, because I own tons of shoes and am fickle, so of course I couldn’t pick between many of them and three, because im a shopaholic and I’ve purchased a lot of things since the 4^th…due to all that I had to pay $50 for my bag weighting 69.5 lbs. I paid it…

 

As soon as I went through security, once I took out my laptop, I realized I didn’t have my power cord.  I let me coworker juice his computer up this afternoon and I forgot to take it back before I left.  When I called him he told me he left it in the office so I was literally left with no computer power for the weekend.  Not a good look for someone with a lot of responsibility and things to do at work tomorrow. 

 

It’s alright – I didn’t spaz. I tried getting it back and when all else failed, I decided to go juice my computer with my coworkers cord, until my now delayed flight boarded…

 

I had to go to another terminal, which was fine because it was one stop away from mine, but what was not fine was that I kept checking my lovely Movado for the time update and by the time I realized my watch was slow – it was 5:25 pm, 15 minutes before my flight took off.

 

Yea – I missed my flight.  The train I was on stopped working.  I had to take another one in the opposite direction, then switch platforms and get on the right one. I got to my gate, after running down the escalators and across a couple of gates, in my Jesus sandals, at 5:38 pm, just in time to see “Flight ‘whatever carajo’ has completely checked in” and the airport person tell me it took off. 

 

Great.

 

Again, I didn’t spaz – I mean why would ?

 

The rep assured he would put me on the next flight, and he took care of me before a bunch of people on line, so I huffed and puffed a little, but he put me on a 5:45, so I had about 3 minutes to run to that gate – thanks.

 

I ran. Got there. Only to see the new rep shrug and say it was full, but that he could confirm me on the next 6:30 flight.

 

Thanks.

 

Really – I was thankful.

 

I wasn’t rushing to get home.  My mom is picking me up and although I love her and miss her, it’s not that serious. I’m not rushing to do nothing, like most New Yorkers. I just chilled.

 

I was in front of the gadget store in the airport and decided – hey, might as well get an iGo charger. I mean, I need it, and if I wanted to have a productive weekend I would have to mooch off of someones charger – something I hate and refuse to do.

 

$129 bucks later, I had my universal charger for almost everything.

 

I was psyched to finally charge my computer on the plane because something I recently discovered is that you can use car chargers in most seats. 

 

So yea – a lot happened today, in a very short period of time.  I handled it like a rockstar and only have one more thing to do – that being replacing the battery on my stupid Movado del diablo.

 

It feels good to be back.

I must’ve deleted every sentence I wanted this blog to start with.  I wanted to start all philosophical and just say that sometimes things do happen for a reason.  That reason isn’t always apparent though, and sometimes takes years to understand. 

 

That’s the point that I’m currently at in my life.  I’ve lived a privileged life.  No soy rica pero tampoco soy pobre.  My parents did a superb job at disguising our family’s economic status – by the time I realized how ‘economical’ state I was already making my own money so I was safe from life’s potential harm. 

 

The reason I mention this is because I recently had a discussion with my grandma and uncle (in DR) about children and how well behaved they are, and how sometimes money plays a huge role in their upbringing.  From my experience, rich lil’ mofos are less grateful than someone who is has less and is less ‘fortunate’.  Nannies are a common term in ‘rich’ households, whereas the poor have babysitters that are usually family, or where their real parents actually raise and discipline them.  Rich kids don’t realize how good they have life because they’ve always had everything so they don’t know what it is to want something so bad, and not get it.  Poor kids sometimes cherish the most minimal things, and make those prized possessions last.  It’s something that hits close to home because the way that I was raised had a combo of both.  I obviously sound biased in my thinking so you know what side of the spectrum I was leaning towards. 

 

Something I’ve always said, and still strongly believe in it, is that I would much rather die poor, happy and in love, than rich, miserable and dissatisfied with life.  Money does not equate everything and I know that.  My grandma asked me how she thought I was raised because we know of someone who is working and bending over backwards giving their children a life of ‘wealth’ when in reality it doesn’t exist.  My mom on the other hand worked, obtained a degree and did all a mom should do in the home to fake the funk the us and never let us question if we had enough.  My dad spoiled the crap out of me, and he didn’t spoil me in the sense that I received a car on my 16^th birthday, or gave me a nice rack of C cups for my 18^th birthday – instead, he always told me, from like the age of  7, I swear, that if I did well in school, I would have everything I wanted in life.

 

That’s all he said.

 

‘Chichi, si tu estudias, tu tendra todo conmigo’.  (chichi, if you go to school, you’ll have everything with me”.   We spit on it, and shook hands – sike.  But he kept his word.  Im not sure if I was motivated by the thought of having ‘everything’, like really, whats everything to a 7 year old??  All I knew is that I knew how to read, and loved to do math thanks to my older brother teaching me some of the math he was learning, in order for me to do his homework.  School was an activity that seemed fun for me and it paid off in my life.

 

Anyway, back to my topic at hand.  Our lives sometimes work in mysterious ways.  They may not always make sense but things sometimes fall into place.  I never knew I was ‘not rich’ because my parents were great at making me believe otherwise.

 

Now I’m at a point in my life that I can hold my own in every single interpretation that you, the reader, would like to define that.  I have love, health, family and wealth.  My wealth being knowledge, experience and money.

 

Another thing that came out of the conversation with my family members is that as successful as I may be to some, considering my upbringing, where I’ve come from, where I’ve ended up and the places I have yet to go – I would give it all up in a heartbeat.  My career is awesome and I swear I wake up every morning with a smile on my face. I love what I do and I am blessed to have the coworkers that I have, but something I value and prioritize much more is family – especially if it’s my own.  My own meaning my mini-chis. 

 

I value family because to me it can almost be seen as a business.  A business because a farmer who plants good seeds has a great harvest.  The thought of raising my own children and providing for them by not only giving them presents, but my presence is something I dream of. 

 

The times my parents grew up, and still affects today’s generation, is that we rush into doing things, without realizing what the future has.  As a teen/young adult my mother wished to go to the United States.  Opportunity, the American dream, etc – every immigrant’s desire.  She married my dad in DR, made my bro somewhere on the island, and in 1981 she arrived in NYC.  She didn’t have a strong foundation in anything – money, the language, the culture, family, etc. 

 

That’s a whole lot to work with.  Can you understand how difficult that can be? 

 

Shit – I went to school 6 hrs from home, outside of my ‘comfort zone’, where the same language I spoke was spoken, and despite not having my family there, they were a phone call away – it still broke me down and tore me up.  My mom didn’t crumble – she did everything in her power to ‘make it’.  Regardless if it was 12 hour days, going to school at night, putting me in night school and my brother in after school programs – she did it. 

 

My dad was a workaholic, like most become, and yet he still took us to see The Little Rascals, tons of Mets games, and endless trips to White Castle. 

 

I had a fun childhood, but imagine how much it would’ve improved had my parents established themselves more in this country.  I don’t have any resentment, so please do not misinterpret the point in this.  The point I’m trying to make is that I feel my future children will benefit greatly from me living my life, establishing a career, building a nice savings account, traveling the world, and making some of my own dreams and aspirations come to life – before I decide to bring them into this world. 

 

As a woman, I feel like giving birth is more than giving up a tiny being that’s been draining my body from all my nutrients, but also giving up a chunk of what was.  When a woman becomes a mother, or a wife for that matter, its no longer about her.  That woman, or maybe only me, has a husband to care after and a child.  The man and child almost always come first.  We care for them, look after them, and sometimes forget about ourselves. I don’t want that. 

 

I look at my mom sometimes and think wow.  When my mom was my age she had just finished giving birth to me.  I can’t even think of having a baby right now, in between my weekend trips and my strong desires to dance the night away.  Like it’s a crazy thought. 

 

I look back at my past and think about how much my life would have changed had I decided to have a baby.  It would’ve sucked big time.  It would’ve sucked because knowing how I am – as meticulous and picky as I am, I would not have wanted others helping me raise my child to help me while I finished studying or whatever.  Its just the way that I am, I like doing everything.  My traveling would’ve come to a halt.  My career would’ve been nonexistent – I don’t know. Like so much would be different.

 

That is why I am so glad that my life has gone in the path that its gone.  I admire white folks and people that have kids all ‘late’ in life – at least late to Latinos.  It has a lot to do our cultures because I think we’re more family oriented – and that’s great.  But white folks tend to have kids after they have things in control.  Oh – I have a strong educational background, a career, money in the bank, a house I own, oh and I have a retirement plan – yea honey, lets make a baby.

 

Doesn’t that make things a little easier – think about everything I mentioned and how stressful they can be. Now what kind of life do you think that child will have, w/ parents that have all that extra attention to give them, because they’re not working or focusing on one of those things.  I want that. 

 

I said white because that’s what I see – on tv, books, etc.  I’m not saying they do everything right, but if theres something they do, and not all, the ones I’m mentioning, is that they put their kids in extracurricular activities.  My extracurricular activity as a child/young teen was babysitting. 

 

Babysitting.

 

Am I mad? Hell to the no! I was a babysitter in college/nanny and I absolutely adore children, and it was great help to my mom and as much as I resented it after – like not being able to play basketball, the closeness I once had with my sister is something I’d never give up.

 

In college it helped me immensely.  I took care of a 3 month old until she was 2.  An experience Mastercard wouldn’t be able to buy.  I was being paid to watch a beautiful couple’s childs milestone – um, thanks.  I should’ve been paying them. 

 

I knew how to do my laundry, how to cook (somewhat) and how to clean.  Most of my rich friends were useless when it came to those things.  That’s almost like weird to imagine but I swear they were.  I like that my palet consisted of home cooked meals and not tv dinners. 

 

Man, im so thankful for so many things. I am really really blessed.  And although I wouldn’t change a thing, I am definitely going to try to live more than my parents did.  They lived for us.  I want to life for myself for a little bit and then I’ll give it all up.  Everything.  When the man of my dreams comes into my life, he’ll be in for a big treat.  I wont erase my everything, and become a parasite that lives off of him, nor will I just end up barefoot and pregnant for the rest of my life – what I will be is the most loyal female he has in his life, because I would have already accomplished most of my individual dreams and met my goals, I’ll be content with the foundation I built and I will be focused on establishing a future with him.  I’d be down to being a stay at home mami for a few because the thought of paying someone to see my child’s milestones makes my skin cringe.  By then I’ll ensure I’m financially able to not have to work for a while.

 

My future excites me so much.  Like you know there’s certain things we look forward to – like this party, a certain holiday, etc.  Tomorrow excites me.  The thought of it changing, the places I’m in, the people I’m with – everything. 

 

There is no place I’d rather be right now, than where I am right now.  A year ago, I couldn’t quite say the same.  Although my life consists of many unanswered questions, and ambiguity at times, it’s okay. 

 

I mentioned yesterday that I have a bunch of trips planned.  Rewind a couple of blessings in disguise in my life, the removal of certain personalities, and fast forward a life I thought I wanted and I wouldn’t be able to do what I’m doing today. 

 

To each their own – but man, can’t no one pee on my rainbow right now.  I am so happy with the crazy summer I planned.  I purchased a new photo album with TRAVEL written on the cover.  We live in a digital world but sometimes we need to SEE things to believe them.  I’m going to start printing pics from my trips to surround myself in constant reminders of the blessed life I live. 

 

I am going to ride this til’ the wheels fall off – like a cool pastor once told me in my life.  The red carpet I’m walking on today is not guaranteed to be there tomorrow, like life once showed me – until then, I’m strutting my stuff and walking as if I have a nosebleed. 

 

I am too blessed to be stressed – hello!

:)

Sorry for being so MIA...and I hate when people apologize a lot so I'll try to minimize the 'sorrys'

Work has been crazy, but a good crazy, I've been traveling, had a wedding in DR, etc..

I'll try to make my stories good and the pictures breathtaking...

I've learned a lot about myself recently, mostly about my family's past, and I've also committed to traveling the world a lil' more than before so by September 13th, I shall have visited Miami, Pittsburgh, DR, Hawaii and Costa Rica...

I'll probably spend 3 weekends in NYC this summer, so yes - its going to be very busy...

Check out CuteGeek.com - I'm updating that first!

Would it be weird if I, someone whose ‘scene’ changes more in one week than most in a year, wanted a change of scene?

 

Probably not, like if you really thought about it.  Despite our differences, you, reader, and me, writer, our lives are probably pretty routine, and sometimes even boring.

 

I have a longer commute than you to work, but in the end, I still work in an office, and am surrounded by coffee drinkers w/ not so pleasant breathe.  

 

I’ve been gone for a minute (now I’m back with the jumpoff)…sike…I felt the urge to write because I spent the afternoon w/ people who are not in my usual ‘circle’.  I saw a one woman show at the Nuyorican Café and I enjoyed myself a lot.  I don’t recall if it was called ‘call me crazy’ or the ‘diary of a mad social worker’ but it was good.

 

A woman went through her life as a social worker, from being a hungry college student to being an underpaid, underappreciated, overworked social worker.  

 

Have we all been there?  Some point in our life? Or is it just me that sort of feels like it’s a cycle that many go through.  Do we ever find ourselves so passionate about something, giving our all and yet, at the end of the day, it doesn’t feel worth it?  I’m probably not phrasing it in the best way, but I came out of there thinking damn, that shit sucks.

 

I never really knew what working w/ drug users, or prostitutes was like because I never had. I’ve also never experienced w/ drugs that weren’t prescribed to me by someone w/ an MD following their name, so that was a new everything to me.  I’m cultured and all that, and consider myself to be well rounded, but one thing I’m happy to be ‘naïve’ about is the whole drug world, and everything that’s in it.

 

Just last week I had someone point out to me crack bags on my block and all I thought was damn, for real? Are you certain? Like for real, for real?...yea…well, I didn’t know what they were supposed to look like, or that they were around me, but apparently they are.  And probably quite heavy users of them because there were a bunch of baggies…had he not pointed it out to me, I would’ve considered believing I lived in an upscale hood.  NOT.

 

We all have different drivers in our lives. Many of us work to pay bills, and other fortunate ones actually love what they do.  Those that love what they do get more than a paycheck at the end of their pay cycle.  I’ll be corny and say their soul probably gets a bit paid, or that their heart gets filled with joy, but that’s probably far from the truth. The one thing ill say is that although you may be underappreciated in whatever you do in your life, regardless if its work, or simply your life, things you do with love and passion usually turn out better than others.

 

My mom has this lil’ mother Theresa thingie in her car and it says, to never stop being nice, or doing things for others, even if they don’t do it back.  Blah, blah, blah and another blah to end it.

 

Back to my first statement.  I want a change of scene. I go to work and am surrounded by great coworkers.  Coworkers that I consider friends.  And I love it, I wont lie, but its almost as if I live two lives.  I come ‘home’ to NYC and since I started taking care of my cute lil’ 8 year old sister, I’ve been dealing with the realities of being a mom.  A mom because I know I’m the comfort my lil one yearns for, and although im frustrated at times, the one thing I want to do is make sure shes happy.  I’ve given up some non-fulfilling aspects of my life, to lay in bed in the morning, really early, to watch cartoons and comfort tears.  I go out and wonder when I’ll see her, or how she feels, or if shes eaten well, and besides it growing on me like fungus, this new responsibility is a lot more than I signed up for.

 

Dealing with myself reincarnated as an 8 year old has sort of become more aware of the things that go on around me.  I was once this innocent child that believed everything she heard, and that got everything she ever wanted from daddy, and now as the 24 yr old hot momma that I am, I realize daddy won’t ever give me what I really want. As kids in school, we never got to pick our teachers, and now as adults I realize we can pick our friends and the people we surround ourselves with. My tolerance for bullshit and lies has decreased a lot.  I will thank my ‘oh so lovely past and present for that.  Work and life has kept me busy and as I lie in bed, on this Sunday night, the one thing I’m the most grateful for is to be alone. Its all good.  Being alone feels amazing. Interpret that as you wish. This ‘lone ranger may continue being ‘unavailable’ to the XY chromosome-carrying beings until the end of 2009.  There’s no one I would rather be w/ right now, beside myself.

 

its your bday dude and i hope you enjoy it :)

 

its been a while...like always...it seems thats the way i start my latest posts nowadays...

a lot on my mind and tons to express but of course no time.

i have training in the am, but tomorrow i will try to get on vox and shed some light into the things that have been running through my mind.

i had a great day at work today, in part due to an internal meeting held at our client site.  we met w/ someone from upper management and like one of my coworkers told me she drank the kool aid...i had a sip of it too...i was sooooooooo motivated....ill write more tomorrow...

Where do you get the majority of your news?

nydailynews.com, aol.com, and cnn.com

What do you miss most about the internet of ten years ago?

aol chatrooms - a/s/l?

If you were to open up a business of your own, what would it be?
Submitted by beth.

i have a business already, w/ a friend and its pretty much expressing my idea and sort of making money from it (aka a blog - cutegeek.com). its great and it has many perks.  opinions are like assholes, and everyone has one...why not try to make some money off of it...

i'd also like to open up a flan business because my mom makes the best flan in the world, and then maybe a day care/school for very young children.

What was your first concert?

I've gone to clubs and have watched performances, and have seen artists perform at cultural festivals (DR, etc.) but i think my first official concert was during the summer of 2006, at Jones Beach. The artists were Marc Anthony, Laura Pausini and Marco Antonio Solis...