Before and After My Style

Before...arriving at work 8:30am in my shiny red high heeled pumps



After...leaving work 5:30pm (Flip flops, courtesy of da' sister) notice the swollen piggies...that's what a day with an open house will do to you.



***Shiny new favorite nail color O.P.I "Manicurist of Seville" Spain Collection


Much after...at home with Homeland Style Hot dogs:


These babies have on top of the actual hot dog: Cabbage, ground meat, cheese and corn. Yummo.
Who says having a desk job isn't hard labor?

Over & Out

The You in me

My brain is full of useless information, therefore I think of the oddest things. I start wondering about people I met/saw a long time ago, wondering what they are doing now. I think of a punk girl I saw in my first month in the USA. She was sitting on the floor by the bus stop, talking about life as a 16 yr old and how she realized she didn't like girls. Silly, I know but I remember her and wonder what became of her.

I don't think many people realize the impact they have on other people lives. Sometimes we forget that we can make an impact, good or bad, to the people that surround us. I mentioned before that I had some people at work that I do not care for, and when I found out one was leaving I was, well giddy like a whore on fair day. (yes, I do reference to whores all the time) Even at work we can make a difference about how the day goes, after all we spent there a good chuck of our day; why not make it pleasant?

The other day I was chatting online with one of nieces and she mentioned this artist which I love. I told her that every time I listen to his music I'm reminded of her father -who is married to one of my Sisters. My niece asked me why and I replied that while I was in college I use to go to their house to copy his CD's from this artist and we use to chat quite a bit. At the time, I was almost 18 and with a new baby and he took the time to try to understand me and somehow guided me. I don't think he ever knew what he did for me, but at time it meant the world that he, or anybody for that matter, cared. I wonder if he knows that. I hope so 'cause he ended up being my oldest Godfather :)

Then I started thinking about all the people that has come and gone of my life. I remember my childhood friend Luisa, who I found out later in life had name one of her kids after me. That was so touching, and I truly never knew I had that kind of impact in her life, or maybe it was that she just liked the name, either way, it was sweet.

I myself name my oldest after a my high school crush. He was new in school, so handsome, so funny and charming. He made friends easily and I love his name "Alain", a name I've never heard before. He joked that I should name my first born like him if it was a boy, so I did. Funny thing is that neither of us imagine that was going to happen so soon in my life.

I have memories of the funny people, the sad people, the one girl that made me feel so inadequate in school and now pretends we where buddies. The friend that was always there for me and stayed behind instead of going to college to help me with my studies when I got pregnant.

I don't even know why I think of them often. I wonder what happened to the class nerd that was so sweet {I recently found out he is a very successful Doctor} , to the bad ass heartthrob guy that my friend was crazy over {he had a horrific "Sopranos" death} , I wonder about my First real world boss that gave me a chance, taught me how to be professional (or to fake it), the landlord that accommodated my rent when looser boyfriend #57 left with all my stuff, and how this person even helped me get a car, with no money and asking nothing in return. I think of the lady down the corner where we grow up, how many times she came to our house to assist us, how many times she brought us honey. I wish she knew I still remember her.

I think of the sweet old man that use to sale bread in a cart, the Doctor that save my son's life at 10 days old, does he imagine that I think of him often with tears of gratitude in my eyes? or the Sister that allowed me to stay with her when living at home was too much for me at my ripe age of 15. The other one that is just so caring and would do anything for you without question. Another that let us lived with them when our world was falling down.

The people that even now, help us so much. The person who out of nowhere gave us our Son's crib, they guys that moved us...twice, for free. The Motherly figure who constantly was bringing me food while I was pregnant, the guy, who even though can be a great jerk, taped directions to the hospital in case I had to be rushed to the hospital.

Do you realized that maybe, at this very moment you could be impacting some one's life and that they may talk about you in the years to come? How do you want them to remember you? As the funny silly inappropriate gal? as the confidant? As the one that made their life hell? As the one that helped them have a better life, future?

I know that when we say things we may not mean it, but those words may help or destroy a person. Conversations showed me that behind everything that we are, there is an insecure child trying to please a parent that was too harsh or too mean, a school nerd still trying to fit in, a shy boy who has mommy issues and cannot commit to any relationship, the jokester that hides between the laughs not to show the pain, or the opposite: a happy person that just wants to help, the one that always have an encouraging word for others, the one with the happy go lucky attitude.

Are you a whiner, a complainer, the half full glass person? Do you know you may be reflecting those things to those around you, your family, your kids, your coworkers.

I know that many people see me as the ridiculous over the top, laugh out loud irresponsible one. The one who would make a joke of a funeral to ease the pain. The one who has no money managing skills whatsoever. The one that doesn't take life seriously. But I'm also very proud to say that I'm also known as a good friend, the one who listen, the one who enjoys helping people, the one that always have time to assist. I'm not tooting my own horn, I'm just striving to be the person who is remember fondly, the one with the dirty jokes, the loud laugh which is half a snort, that one that makes a fool of herself daily, the one that want to live to the fullest.

Over & Out
*Pictures are of my homeland taken by Domingo Batista

True Love

I didn't forget...I could never...
I just didn't want to talk about it.
I don't care if they think I'm crazy, silly or stupid. It hurts when I think of you, and yes...I cry when I hear your songs. From the hubs that knows how much I loved you...

" Few entertainers get to be bigger than life but you were definitely bigger than anything we've ever seen. You stopped cities cold by simply being in them, we never have seen anything like you MJ and we never will again. Long live the king!!!!"

All I know is that I love you, and true love last a lifetime...

Because Stupid doesnt like riding alone or the other NYC

So off we went to NYC and at what time we arrived home last night? Well let's just say if I was Cinderella I would have been riding a pumpkin, ok?

Oh but I loved it. Even when we where dating the hubs and I enjoyed our little road trips. It gives us time to talk about what's really important: life, religion, raising kids, where we wanna be, should Paula Abdul go back to American Idol.

Above-Seriously the best picture of me yet!

I love the long conversations we have during these times. They usually start with me asking him "tell me a story" and so he does. He tells me about his days in a Private Catholic All boys school, his days growing up in the city, playing around the buildings, the dating, the girls, what they enjoyed. He also tells me about the life he had with his parents, how his father would take him to the park to play ball every weekend. How his little brother , who is 15 years his junior, was so prone to accidents.

I tell him some of my adventures in dating, and what happened in between our 12 yrs hiatus.

I got a tell you though, even though I love me some New York on any give holiday or weekend, living there would never be an option. All the glamour of being in Central Park, walking on 5th Avenue, shopping on 42nd street, going to Chinatown, all that is the things you do on holiday there. Living there is a much different Story. Believe me, only Carrie can afford her place. And that's cause she got no kids.

First of all, the apartments are expensive and tiny. FIL is lucky to have a rent control apartment so he is able to manage an almost decent 2 bdr. His building is old (I believe from the 20-30's) so they have tons of character like molding in the walls and crown molding, glass knobs and things of the sort. They also have no elevator. Did I mention they live in the 5th floor?

I don't have pictures of the place because SIL came and basically is redoing the entire place and she is not done yet. But is looking nice. Poor guys are trying to get a new washer and dryer and have been informed they need to change to 220 electricity which they would need to pay themselves. Fun times.

Parking is a nightmare, seriously. You might as well wait for the tooth fairy to come offering cash. Hubs usually leaves me and he goes parking. Lucky for us we've been able to snag parking right in front of his building. (yeah, cause the hubs got mad skilzz- I'm trying my nuwyok accent here)

Also, there is no much green around, but I'm sure you guys knew that. Yes, they are parks...around..., but there is no grass for you to go and let the kids play, again, unless you live in front of Central Park, which means you wont be taking the kids, the nanny will. So guess where you are gonna have your family BBQ's?


This trip was basically to spend with family and with his Dad. We hang around the house, we ate -hellllluuuuuuu Spanish food and Chimichurris!- we talk, we laugh, we hang around, we went to bed around 4am (well, they did anyways).

I went out with the girls for a bit in the afternoon and found all the daddyos sitting outside with the kids, like they did in the good old days, drinking and talking. Just hanging all together. But the hubs had a blast, and so did the little guy who got a chance to start walking in a floor with no carpet.

This time, I had such a nice time, I really didn't want to come home. Even if there was no AC in the living room.

Over & out

A Conversation

It started like this: a Dear friend is having a really bad day. She just found out the "love of her life" (I believe he's not-but she does) has gotten his currently cheating girlfriend pregnant. She is sad and hurt. In the bottom of her heart she hoped they will be together again.

So I asked her what she wanted to do for lunch. We settle with Panda Express AKA greasy-Chinese-that-will-kill-you. So I'm driving and I had something important to tell her but I had another point to make.

Me: do you know any pom starts? You know, do you know them by name?

Friend: yeah, I know some...Jenna Jameson, blah, blah and blahbiddy, why?

Me: oh, this chick who's name is "Katie Morgan" she has her own HBO thing and apparently she is very intelligent. She talks like a stupid blond dizz *cough PARIS HILTON cough*, but in reality she's not. So she got tested and has like a high IQ and Howard Stern did a series of questions on her ans she pass them too. Is funny she doesn't look the part.

Oh, and there is also this girl "Stormy" but she is not nice in the documentary so I don't like her...shit, what was the point of this?

Friend: That some porno starts are really smart?

me: no

friend: that dumb chicks can be porno starts, but they are actually smart?

me: nope

Friend: I think you just wanted to talk about porno with me.

me: yeah, that must be it. I needed something dirty to talk to you.

friend: I knew it! (and she smiles with glee)

Over & out

in Between "vete a la M" and I dont give a rats a$$

****post from Wednesday***
Yeah, thats where I am today and have been since yesterday. And is all because of work.

I always tell people how fortunate we are to have a job and one that we like, even better. Believe me, I've been in possitions that even though the pay was sustantial the amount of agravation and frustration obtain by working with small minded racist people, is really not worth it.


So being that I work in a place where I like 98% of my coworkers is a great thing. Yeahm 98% because I very much dislike two ladies, one is leaving and can I tell you? for the first time in my work history I'm ready to throw a party.


I also enjoy what I do and people like me. My Sister always tell me that I'm so lucky that wherever I go I always seem to find people that really care for me. I think thats a two way street; if you are nice and caring and try to help people out {all the while making a fool of yourself} then they will care for you too. I've been really lucky.


But in the last couple of days I had the urge to write an email sort of like this:


Dear Stupid person with the same stupid question that you KNOW has no importance,What part of I don't care about your stupid question you didn't get?

Not only am I doing YOU a favor AGAIN, but the tone of your email was inapropiate. You are lucky I have manners because I do believe in violence and I would slap the heck out of you.


Sincerely,


Me


or maybe this one:


Dear Lazy person,

STOP sending me your work. I help out of the kindness of my being and out
of my work ethic, which by the way you are killing every single day you send one of your stupid request and don't even bother to say thank you afterwards. Oh, and next time I tell you I CANT do something you requested last minute and you just walk away and leave the job on my desk, I will hunt you down. Be afraid, very afraid!



Sincerely,



Overworked me

Uff so happy I got that out

Over & out

Saturday Morning

I hear the alarm...i hit as hard as I can so it stops ringing. Five minutes pass and then my cell
rings to the tune of John Mayer (shhhh...don't judge).

I half open my eye enough to shut it. I grab my pillow and twist to the left to have hubby hug me. Then 5 minute passes and the alarm rings again. I hit again and this time I sit up in bed...nope, not ready to be up yet. I grab the pillow and go to the end of the bed...5 minutes pass again and this time I cannot reach the alarm with my foot so hubby - who's been smiling while watching me struggle to get up - finally turns it off.

I drag myself out of bed and enter the bathroom...darn is cold. I turn on the light and wince in disapproval. Saturday Mornings are meant to be spent cuddling with the hubs and baby. Not such luck for me. After finally getting clean and half decent, I go to the bedroom and see the little one still in his crib. I lower the railing and almost jump in it (part of the fun of being short) and kiss him on his forehead.

Hubs kiss me and walks me to the door. He tells me to have a great day and that he loves me. I so want to go back in bed but I can't.

Thankfully is almost summer so there is daylight and warm already. 6am in the winter time is no fun. I get to work, all is well. I see this post from "Enjoying the small things". A blog that talks about the birth of her beautiful daughter Nella...and I cry.

And then I read about Henry from "Three Little Kings" and I pray.
No matter what problems we may have, we are so very blessed (and so have they, but they have a strength that I do not possess). To the parents of these kids and the rest of them in the world...you are my heroes.

Over & Out

R: "I need something" -L: "you mean I love you Mommy"- R:"yeah, thats what I said"

Above: Anne Rice's former home

Growing up with 5 siblings and a crazy Mom-nster was a lot of fun. I have so many stories and memories to tell. My friends laugh when I tell them some of the things we had to endure as kids. They are funny now but back then...well, lets just say that I ran away from home when I was 15.

Oh, don't get scare...I went to live with one of my older sister's. Mom was furious, Dad was sad. I just never clicked with my Mom. You know those girls that talk about how their Mom is their best friend and how much they love hanging with them? yeah, that was so not me.

I actually hated my Mom-ster. And I mean it as in having-nightmares-about-her hate. She seemed almost cruel to me. why would you put a 10yr old to clean some stupid nick knacks while propped in a chair and when she broke something she got slap...senseless. Or ask us to do something you knew we couldn't possibly do, or we will do wrong only to have us kneel in the patio, in the sun, in the middle of the summer, with Arms open, and if we put them down we got hit with a belt...see? cruel.

When I had my first child was when I questioned her the most. I could never in a million years think of giving my child those kind of punishments, ever. Yes, I believe in spanking. YesI believe your child should be just a tad a afraid of you, enough to prevent them from doing some stupid shit because they think you may actually kill them.

I did a lot of silly stuff growing up: cut class to meet with friends or the boyfriend, lie about having to do homework, say I was going to be somewhere only to disappear to another place. but I never smoke, never drank (actually I've never been drunk in my life and I'm turning 35 this year); have never done drugs of any kind. I knew with any of these things there was a sure guarantee I would get dismembered. Yes, I got pregnant, but that's because I was stupid and no one had ever bother to explain what a period was let alone any sex education. But it was my bad and I take full responsibility for it.

All my life I tried to see if there was a way for me and the Mom-nster to get along. We only seem to be ok with each other when I'm pregnant. Somehow her mother bear instincts come to full effect. I always though she hated me. After all, she said some cruel stuff to me growing up...something to the effect of me being worst than a lady of the night...hehehe. I think is funny.

Anyways, now in my old ripe age of almost 35 I came to realize this woman didn't know any better. She just did as she was told and tried to raise 6 almost normal individuals. My father was in sales and was away most of the time. She was a SAHM of 6....at one point she had a her kids ages 16, 13, 11, 10, 2 and 1. Yeah, I think it would make anyone pull their hair out.

I finally realize that I needed to get over the "bad" memories and remember all the stuff she did for us. All the cooking, all the caring when we got sick, three hot meals every.single.day. I never had fast food until I was an adult, except for pizza. She always knew what to do when we got hurt. She always took care of us and then some other kids that needed tending to: My nephews, my cousin's daughter, etc.

I remember some many relatives stopped at our house at lunch time all the time 'cause they knew my Mom always cooked and had extra for people all the time. I remember a lot of people though she was/is really funny. She is also very very loud. She is larger than life actually. She is very opinionated and strong willed. She is also the kind of sister that will go to the rescue for any of her siblings...let it be with money so one can have surgery, or time to see the widow of her brother, or the car driver when people come to town, or the presence every week to see her ailing sister...even though she can't speak and doesn't know who my Mom-ster is... It doesn't matter to her, she is always there.

I think the thing that I appreciate the most about her is the fact that (with the exception of one crazy Sister) she created really strong individuals. We are selfless and care about other's needs. We know the world doesn't revolve around us. We are concern about being the best we can be and we also have a moral compass (mine is twisted but I have it).

I see so many parents these days, giving in to their kids every desire and whim, telling them they are SO SPECIAL. Well, if we are all special them no one truly is. Being mediocre is acceptable. Not doing your best is ok. Why is that?

I was always told to do my best, try to be good. We got presents on Christmas and Birthdays and when our grades showed our hard work. We where not bought the latest invention just because a kid in school had them. Things where earned.

Unfortunately I didn't inherit her knack for good finances, that one was left of my gene pool. Ah, is ok. She taught me a lot more: to keep a home, to do laundry, to be a decent wife, to care for others, to help those around me if I can. And yes, with the bad I learn how I want my kids to remember me, the kind of memories I want to build for and with them. But I also know now to have compassion and love for a crazy 72 year old woman, who is OCD about cleaning, who still cooks everyday, who has raised my son into a fine young man, who has tried, to the best of her abilities to be there for us.

Here is to you Mom-ster...I don't hate you anymore :)

Over & out

P.S: Pictures are of New Orleans...the city I fell in love with and where I plan to retire one day!

Hi, My name is Patricia and I'm addicted to Vick's VapoRub

You guess it. I've been sick AGAIN.

This time with a lovely Sinus infection that has been harder to get rid of than a pimp looking for a whore in Atlantic City...yeah, that bad.

And not only that, but the little guy ended up with a virus too, so OH~THE FUN I HAD!

Friday Morning I woke up to what I though was pink eye (on top of everything else I had) but noooooooo, it turns out it was from the sinus infection. Seriously? I know it sounds awful but I didn't know mucus can take over your life.

Back in the motherland it is believed that you can clear illnesses and bad vibrations/luck by diving into the ocean backwards...I'm so ready to do that. And I will, in about a month... when I get to have my vacation time in the Caribbean. I'm going to be here:

Yeah, you hate me right now :)

So many plans for that vacation, including: our oldest graduating high school, the baptism of the little one, going out dancing, seeing friends and family...I can't hardly wait!

Oh and the food, the food...YUMMO.

So you don't hate me that much, I'll leave you with a story of when my addiction started. Mind you, to my "people" Vick's is equal to the Windex joke on "My Big Fat Greek Wedding". we use it for everything: fever, headaches, congestion, cough, insect bites, etc. So everyone I know has a jar or two of this marvelous medicinal goop.

By the time I was ten I had a ritual: First get a cup of ice, so I can crushed it while in bed and two: get myself a VICK'S mask...seriously I plastered the thing ALL OVER my face and inside my nostrils. It was so bad that my Sister's husband (then boyfriend) will be sitting with her, watching TV, I will pass by in the hallway behind them and he would yell without even bthering to look away from the TV: "yeah, there goes Patricia"...you could smell me a mile away. My Mom-ster finally took matters into her own hands and had to hide my precious Vick's from me. *Sniff*

Now, there's always a jar next to my night stand...and one on my desk at work. I LOVE THIS STUFF. So if you ever have a cough, not only put this on you chest and back, put it on your feet and cover it with socks. It will work wonders. (also applying it to your temples when you have a headache...amazing!)

Over & out

P.S

In other news, we are back on the health wagon (hubby on board this time) Soda is out for now and I'll be packing more of my lunch and having more salads. Wooo Hooo... Remember: "Trying is having the intention to fail" So we are no longer trying, we are GOING TO LOOSE WEIGHT! And I'm bying a Zumba DVD!