Happy to be Sad

It’s currently Friday night and inspiration has finally stuck to put finger to keyboard.  The past week has really just kicked my ass up and down.  I’ve been so busy that I realized that my tether from ok to being pissed off because I haven’t been home long enough is less than a week.  I have been going nonstop since thanksgiving and it finally got to me on Wednesday.  I was in a horrible mood and I was not nice to a lot of people.  I couldn’t really pinpoint it until I remembered that I just haven’t been home to do my thing.  And by my thing, I mean relaxing.  Alone.  Some people just don’t understand my need for solitude and my need to be home the majority of my free time. Things finally turned around yesterday as I just had to make a quick pit stop at my sister’s and I got to see the kiddos for a minute then I got home to spend quality alone time.

Today brought along new old adventures.  I was my heterosexual lifemate’s plus one at a holiday party just like last year and our walk through downtown to get back to our vehicles was just beautiful.  It’s so amazing what transformation is currently happening in downtown El Paso.  Granted, there are still buildings that are big-time eyesores and I don’t mean this to sound bad, but there are some stores with cheap merchandise that just look bad in and around downtown too, so there is still some work to be done, but the area around the newish-ly renovated plaza that acts as the unofficial center of downtown is thriving.  I work there, so I am getting to see the changes first hand, but I’m hardly ever there at night.  During the day with all the construction going on, it’s just a maze of madness.  Currently at night now, the streets are blocked off and the plaza is blocked off, and the plaza is lit up with Christmas lights, there are families and couples everywhere enjoying the city, and the new businesses and condos that have opened up are all open and thriving too… it’s just a beautiful sight to see.

I mentioned the thought to my heterosexual lifemate that it looked like a perfect place for a date.  Take the newly refurbished streetcars from uptown into downtown, stroll through the park all decked up with lights, maybe go into one of the many bars or restaurants for a cocktail and/or meal, take the streetcar for a ride through the downtown loop, and call it a night.  The thought of doing that seems so cool… then the reality hit me.  I got nobody to do that with.  Sheesh.  I’m not gonna lie, allowing myself to think about it makes me a little sad about it, but you know what?  It’s ok.  I have an otherwise happy life, I have friends and family that care, and I got my place to come and get away from everybody and recharge when I need to.  And by the looks of things, I can’t leave my place for more than 3 days until I start getting pissed off.  It’s good to know these things.

I hope you have a great weekend.  December starts tomorrow.  How crazy is that, right?!

Never Too Late

“Doing nothing often leads to the very best kind of something.”

  • Winnie The Pooh

This past weekend was quite a good one for me.  I did a lot of nothing.  If you know me in the real world, you know that this is nothing new.  However, with that said, this was a different kind of nothing for me.  I made it a movie and relaxing weekend.  I rented 4 movies from one of my trusty area Redbox locations and after some dinner, cleaning, and organizing, I got on with the show.  I had such a mixed bag of films.  Action, Superhero, and even a kid flick were the ones I chose.  I was going to try to watch all 4 on Friday, but seeing as I started the films late on Friday night, I knew I wouldn’t last. 

To be quite honest, it all worked out for the better for me.  Saturday morning brought along Sicario:  Day of the Soldado, a breakfast and few phone calls from family break, then finally Christopher Robin.  I don’t know if I’m one of the last ones to see this film, but I can’t recommend it enough.  I’ll admit that I’m the worst now about going out to the pictureshows to see films there and part of me is sad that I didn’t see this one at one, but also I’m glad I waited to see it in the comfort of my flat because it got a lil’ dusty in there for a second.  Let me explain and try to make it as non-spoilery as possible.  The premise of this film was that after holding one last party with the group in Hundred-Acre Wood, Christopher Robin goes to boarding school, grows up, meets his wife, they have a kiddo, and we catch up with them 30 years after the farewell party to find Christopher Robin in a job that takes up all of his time which makes him sad and absent as a husband and father.  Enter a day in Hundred Acre Wood where Pooh, after not being able to find the rest of the group, stands at the door in the tree where Christopher Robin would come through, and missing him dearly, walks through the door after it opens for him.  Hilarity ensues after that with a lot of super cute and heartwarming moments, but the one that suckerpunched me right in the feels was this one, and I’ll warn you of spoilers now.  Skip the next paragraph if you don’t wanna know it!

 So, Christopher Robin and Pooh go back through the tree in Sussex to Hundred Acre Wood so that Christopher Robin can drop Pooh off with the rest of the group and he can get back to doing the work he needed to do.  Of course Pooh gets them going in a circle and Christopher Robin gets angry at him and tells him to just go away (in so many words) and suddenly Pooh disappears.  Christopher Robin then goes looking for him and ends up finding the Eeyore going down a stream accepting his fate as the end of his life but also mistaking the grown up Christopher Robin for a heffalump.  Christopher Robin rescues Eeyore then ends up finding the rest of the group hiding in a tree stump because the noise that a wind direction thingy (you know what I’m talking about!) makes them think that a woozle and a heffalump are out to destroy them.  After finding them in said tree stump, he had to convince them that he was indeed Christopher Robin by defeating the imaginary heffalump a ways away where Owl can only see a bit of the action and Rabbit can hear what’s going on.  Eeyore knows it’s fake all along but goes along with knowing that it really is Christopher Robin in front of him and once the imaginary heffalump is defeated the group all comes out of hiding and they all embrace him and they go out to find Pooh.  In a moment of clarity, Christopher Robin remembers exactly where to find him, which is the tree branch that serves as a bench where they would always talk.  Well, holy smokes, they get there and as soon as Christopher Robin sees the red balloon that Pooh asked Christopher Robin to buy him at the train station in London, they knew that he was found.  Oh man.  I just about lost it then.  I really don’t know why.  Even thinking about it now gets me emotional.  I think it’s because since Christopher Robin was so mean to Pooh for wasting their time going in a circle when Christopher Robin had his adult things to do instead of play and to know that Pooh was there at the fallen tree branch where he would normally be to wait for him… seeing that act of forgiveness by actions alone just melted my heart.  Even the next lines got me right in the feels even worse than that!

“Christopher Robin: Hello Pooh.

Winnie the Pooh: Hello Christopher Robin.

Christopher Robin: I’m sorry Pooh. I’m so terribly sorry. I should never had shouted at you.

Winnie The Pooh: Well I am a bear of very little brain.

Christopher Robin: No Pooh. You are I think a bear of very big heart.”

Oh man.  It took all I could to not hit pause on remote control and just let myself lose it there.  Seriously.  Here was Christopher Robin’s best friend taking blame for something that Christopher Robin did himself!  He didn’t need to do that.  He took it and didn’t even think twice of it.  He was just happy to have his best friend back.  Holy smokes.  Waterworks time!  Now, I’ll say that it’s hitting me in the feels not because I’m an unforgiving person.  I’m the exact opposite.  The thing that got me was that no matter that 30 years past and Christopher Robin all but forgot about all of his friends in the Hundred Acre Wood, his friends didn’t.  They thought about him every day that he was gone.  They greeted him with open arms like the prodigal son parable that Jesus Christ talked about.  It didn’t matter what had happened in the past, who was thought of and who wasn’t.  What mattered was right then and there.  That was part of it for me.  The other big part that just hit me like a million tons of bricks was that I’ve forgotten how to play too in the recent years.  I don’t know why, but I have.  Maybe I thought that it’s just not something that adults should do.  We should be grown-ups!  There’s no time to play!  There’s only time for work, and being responsible, or being stupid and partying too hard, but absolutely no time to just play.  Doing nothing and seeing where it leads you… none of that.  None of that has happened lately.  It’s gotten so bad for me that I haven’t really played with my nephews much lately and the thought of the young one desperate to  play with me and me engaging but not engaging as much as I should and the guilt that brought seeing what was just happening in the movie almost broke me.  I have become the grown up Christopher Robin!  It’s all about being responsible now.  I’m trying to get to the gym, keep my flat spotless, do laundry, visit and take care of my grandparents, and keep my bills current and that doesn’t give me time or the attitude to just play with my nephews when I see them, or to just go out on a Saturday and do something fun for fun’s sake.  I’m too busy trying to recharge my batteries from having such a busy Monday through Friday schedule that even when I think I’m having fun I’m really not.  It’s like I’m putting the proverbial small Band-Aid on a gaping wound that really isn’t helping much. 

What am I going to do about it?  I’m going to enjoy the free moments in my life now.  I’m going to play with my nephews when they ask me to.  I’m going to try to take the upcoming Saturdays and try and see where they take me when I plan to do nothing.  I’ve already started on it, as I saw the kiddos yesterday and I was eager to play with them.  It was so heartwarming.  As soon as they got to my old man’s house, the little one immediately pulled out his toys and decided right then and there to give me one.  I have no idea why, but he did and I gladly took it.  We played a bit with all of his other toys, and once we started playing a game on his tablet, I tried my best to catch up with my older nephew who was playing the same game but was levels ahead of us.  It was awesome.  These kids are like the Pooh to my Christopher Robin.  It doesn’t matter to them that tío David plays a bit with them every now and again and acknowledges them; they get excited every time they see me.  I’ve never lost the love for them at all, and I would do everything within my power for them, but I’ve been absent as a playmate because I’ve been too damn busy adulting.  I’m going to make an effort to not do that anymore.  We’re gonna play again from now on until the teen years happen, which for one of them is right around the corner and the other is about 8 years away.  Then I suppose I can start to adult again.  By then I’ll be 46.  That’s a good year to maybe grow up a bit again, but for the time being, I’m gonna play again.

Winnie The Pooh: What day is it?

Christopher Robin: It’s today.

Winnie The Pooh: My favorite day.

All By Myself

Happy Friday, y’all.  I hope this weekend brings you some rest, and maybe some fun too!  I’m getting one of my two short weeks this month, so I’m looking forward to the extra day to rest and more than likely sit and wonder why the hell it is that I’m a fan of such a horrible football team.  LOL!

Today’s blog is probably going to end up being a sad one, so I apologize in advance if that’s the way this comes out.  Just to let you know, I really only start writing whenever I have an idea of what I want to say, but I really don’t have any structure to my thoughts or anything.  I just let my fingers type away whatever comes to my mind.  With that said, what’s come to my mind this past week, aside from my Hispanic heritage history lesson like I mentioned a few days ago, is me coming to grips with being (as the popular kids said about 6 years ago) forever alone.  I’ll be honest.  Most of the time, I try not to think about it because it just bums me out, but lately it’s been swimming more towards the front of my dome.  Little reminders here and there spring up and I always end up asking myself “Man.  What the hell is so wrong with you, dude?”  Inevitably, I come up with a few answers:

  1. I’m short
  2. I’m fat
  3. I’m very much in INFJ introvert
  4. I’m nerdy
  5. I’m a neat, clean, and tidy person
  6. I’m not rich
  7. I don’t seek out the newest material possessions (i.e. newer vehicle, newest smartphone, etc)
  8. I don’t like to go to bars/clubs
  9. I’m very religious and try to live my life within my Catholic moral structure (that’s not to say I fail at it. A LOT.  BUT, I try!)

After the self-insulting part of my brain tells me those 9 facts and probably others in a quick succession, I nod and agree that those are pretty good reasons as to why I don’t even get the time of day from the opposite sex.  I guess I have nothing to offer that women find attractive, and that sucks.  Don’t get me wrong though.  I’ve tried.  Lord knows I’ve tried.  Most of the time, I find that women find my kindness and genuine concern for them to be a front for something else.  Little do they realize that I show love to everybody I care about.  Also, I’ve actually gotten female friends essentially proverbially turn their noses up at me over the fact that I go to Confession frequently (weekly or bi-weekly) and I attend Mass on all holy days of obligation (that means every Sunday and other various feast days during weekdays when they happen throughout the year).  How being strong in my faith, knowing my faith, and loving my faith turns into being a bad thing to women, I have no idea, but I find that to be a hindrance as well.  Granted, I’m judging women hating on my love for God strictly from a platonic spectrum, but I’d have to think that it goes across the board.  I know, generalizing ain’t cool but whatcha gonna do, right?

So, from time to time I find myself doing my thing in my apartment and I pause to think about just how much it would be cool to have that person of interest who would actually want to listen to me talk about the interesting things I learned that day, or music that I felt inspired by, or a documentary that I watched that moved me in one way or another and at the present I have nobody.  I know it’s breaking my old man’s heart that I’m alone… probably my grandparents too, but at this point I feel like it’s really out of my control.  I’ve done all I can do within reason.  I’ll probably keep finding myself like I did last night.  I was tired, had nobody to talk to, and I was actually feeling lonely.  This morning, aside from the loneliness, I’ve added a touch of depression to the mix, so I’m having a fantastic time.  If there is a single, nerdy, relaxed, introverted, traditionalist Catholic woman out there, send her my way!

Have a great weekend my dudes!

Learn-ed Moron

Salutations once again y’all!  We’re heading into the end of another week as this year really comes into the fast swing towards the end.  With that, television has brought me some happy and exciting feelings with CHRISTMAS (not “holiday”) commercials! Snowy scenes about gift giving and buying with kids, dogs, very expensive brand new cars in the driveways of multimillion dollar homes, and Santa Claus are filling the commercial breaks between shows now and to be honest, I can’t be any happier.  I LOVE the Thanksgiving into Christmas season the most out of any other time of the year.  I’m trying my hardest to NOT play my Blu-ray Christmas films right now!  It’s that fierce this year!

That’s not what I wanna talk about this blog though.  The thing I want to talk about is being Hispanic.  Heck yea!  I’m one of the 52 million people in the United States who can be counted amongst the people of various Hispanic countries.  Personally, (and saying it jokingly) I’m an American made with Mexican parts.  LOL!  As funny as I put it, it’s true.  I don’t think about it living in El Paso because as you can see here, El Paso is about 80.7% Hispanic.  There are only a few spots, and I’d venture to guess certain areas of the westside and most of the northeast sides of town where you may encounter people who don’t at least understand Spanish.  Everywhere else, though, sheeeeeesh… you almost better understand Spanish because especially if you look like me (and most of us do), people assume you speak Spanish first.  It’s even more prominent in the areas close to the border to Juarez, Mexico.  Most businesses along the area are run by Spanish speaking people, and you’d be really out of luck trying to go there and try to get somebody who even understood English.  Luckily for me, my brain works well enough where if I’m having a good day, I can transition seamlessly from English to Spanish and not even think about it.  Most days, though, my brain refuses to translate Spanish from English and I either forget my words or it takes me a minute to process the translation to say what I need to say.

I say all of that because I was able to see the first third of a new show on Netflix by the great John Leguizamo.  I’ve followed this dude’s career from back in the early days of the late 80s and early 90s and absolutely LOVED his specials on HBO dealing with growing up Latino.  Freak and Ghetto Klown really spoke to me and made me realize just how much in common Latinos live their lives.  His new special, Latin History for Morons, goes away from introspective views of living life as a Latino and instead shows the audience just how we came to be.  Even though I’m only a 3rd of the way through, there’s been so much information that he’s given me that I honestly didn’t even know, that I’m just blown away.  I’m appreciating my heritage a lot more than I did before, but at the same time I’m a little heartbroken about it too.  I know I’ve got a lot of Native American blood in me because of my skin tone and well the fact that I know my paternal great great grandmother was full blooded Comanche, and I’m pretty sure that I have a lot of Aztec blood in me coming from my mom’s side, but that can’t be verified because I really don’t know much of her history.  In any event, the reason I’m a little heartbroken about it is because in the special, John tells us the story about just how we came to be.  There were millions of people all throughout the American continent living in peace amongst each other until Christopher Columbus took a wrong turn thinking he was going to India that had him stumble upon the islands south of what is now Florida.  Long story short, he and his people violated women and children, killed the men, and brought the diseases from Europe to the Americas and that killed millions more.  The Spanish soon followed and went through what is now Mexico, brought their violence and diseases with them and soon killed the Aztec tribes, and most of them traveled north through here, oddly enough, and made their way a bit further north and then slightly southeast and west.  Some also went south and ended up killing the Inca via violence and diseases as well.  That’s as far as I’ve gotten into the show, and I can only imagine things remained crazy until that history started to blend in with the northeast section of America and the formation of the United States and all that violence and disease that was brought upon Native Americans from them.

It sounds so bad, doesn’t it?  The Aztec people were very advanced for their time, all of the Native American tribes lived off the lands that looked so incredibly different back then, especially in what is now Massachusetts and New York (it was all super dense forest), and the whole American continent was full of people just doing their thing living in peace.  Part of me wonders what would have happened if the Europeans wouldn’t have raped, pillaged, and killed the indigenous people to this land.  Things sort of worked out in the end, I guess?  Who’s to say, right?  I guess if it wasn’t going to be them, it would have been the English and the French to do it instead, but what would have happened if everybody that came here from other continents just let these people just live their lives as they were? Well, I guess I wouldn’t exist.  That’s for sure.  Haha!  My surname is Spanish and I’m Catholic too.  I wouldn’t have those things if nothing would have happened.  I might have still spoken English and Spanish (both badly as I do now, if you wanna know.  LOL), but I’m sure I would be speaking a language native to this area (well, back in the day at least) as my primary language instead.  It’s crazy to think about.  I know one thing though.  I’m glad that I’m me.  All the guilt of the Spanish, but all of the pride from my Native American people too now lives in me.  I just hope that if God blesses me with children, I can pass along all the history that I know so that they can know where they came from too.  Now, I can’t wait to get back home to finish the show and tell everybody that I know that has Netflix to watch it!

I’m Over It

Salutations y’all!  We’ve made it to another week.  This is going to be my last normal week until God knows when, so I’m going to try and make it a good one.  If I can type honestly though, my week started off pretty poorly.  Actually, the feeling that I was sliding back down the depressive turn showed up late last week, Friday to be exact.  After a great conversation with the heterosexual lifemate, I remembered of a realization I had about myself that I think in some ways hinders me.  That one thing is my strong dislike of failure.  I’ve had it all of my life.  I was brought up to have the mentality to always succeed in everything that I do and it only took continually getting picked last in the playground because I was first short (I still am), then after the age of 7 fat.  I stood little chance at kid life.  Instead of trying to persevere, I took the easy way out and just didn’t bother with any of it and I found that I was fine doing my own thing.  Now, don’t get me wrong… I had a lot of friends in elementary school, but I just never really engaged in playground games much because most of the time as I’d be one of the last ones picked.  The only reason I wouldn’t be picked last was usually because I was a pretty good toadie to the bullies, but they knew better than to rely on me to win whatever games they decided to play.

Fast forward to my early twenties up to the present, I’ve found that nothing really has changed since then.  That notion of not wanting to fight for whatever I believed in or whatever just got stronger.  That feeling has gone across the board, actually.  All it took was a few fun rejections from potential romantic interests to make me learn the lesson of “F THAT!  I’m never putting myself in that position to feel humiliated like that again.  NO thank you.”  That’s never gone away.  And friendships?  The ones that I have gotten since post high school have just been organic, for a lack of a better term.  I didn’t feel like there was any work involved to maintain these connections.  Some of my dearest friends whom I love dearly have come about since then and all organically.  More on this in a bit.  Lastly, I’ve found that I really hate games.  I’m not talking about the things people do to each other, well, I guess that too, but I’m talking about board games, card games, trivia games, etc.  I LOATHE them.  What’s the reason, you may ask?  Same thing.  I can’t stand to lose.  If I know the probability of me losing is high, f it!  I don’t do it.  There’s nothing worse than feeling bad for no other reason but supposed entertainment in my opinion.  Man, I’ll even go as far as to say that one of my bigger annoyances is drinking games.  What the hell, people?  I like to drink and have no objective to it.  I don’t need to play a stupid game that forces me to take a shot of whatever liquor I may be downing just because I goofed on something.  No, I take my drinking seriously.

I digress.  All this really came to me in a negative wave on Saturday.  See, Saturdays for me have now become my true day of rest.  That’s the only day of the week where I don’t wake up to an alarm and if I did the rest of the week right, I won’t have to leave my house for anything unless I want to venture out, and that rarely happens.  All I want to do is just relax, sleep, and do as little as possible on Saturdays.  Added to that though, as for the norm lately, I’ve felt like trying to maintain my interpersonal relationships a bit more and let people know that I value them in my life with my free time on Saturdays.  What I’m finding, however, is that nobody seems to have the time for me.  I know, selfish me, right?  But more so than the fact that people don’t have time for me, I feel more like I’m just a burden on people.  That sucks.  All this makes me wish I could go back in time to last January or February when everything was still going right in my world.  I was left alone, I didn’t try, and I was happy.  Now?  Not so much.  I’m tired of a lot in my world.  I’m tired of needing an outlet and nobody giving a damn. (i.e. “Oh!  How was your day?” *I start talking about my day* “STFU!  You talk too much!  UGH!”)  I’m tired of giving a damn for people who don’t care about me, no matter how much they say otherwise.  I just want things to go back to normal where I go to sleep at the time that I want to go to sleep.  I want to not to think if anybody is thinking about me like I am them.  I want my time off to be filled with joy and not depression.  I think I’m done showing myself to people in the real world.  It’s just too painful, there is no winning it in, and honestly I’m just better off by myself.

I Stand Apart

“No matter how you care to define it, I do not identify with the local group. Planet, species, race, nation, state, religion, party, union, club, association, neighborhood improvement committee; I have no interest in any of it. I love and treasure individuals as I meet them, I loathe and despise the groups they identify with and belong to.”

― George Carlin, Brain Droppings

“You don’t wanna get mixed up with a guy like me, Dottie.  I’m a loner.  A Rebel.”

– Pee-Wee Herman

When I was growing up, now that I look back on things, I don’t think I was ever liked right off the bat.  Hell, come to think of it, nothing has changed there.  I say that being picked last during playground activities, etc., and the “Don’t take any shit from anybody” message that was given to me by my tía and my grandma formulated the thought in my brain that I was always going to be a one-man wolf pack first.  I was short, and after age 7 I was fat, but I was at least likeable and sometimes funny so that gave me an advantage in my youth to gain friends when given the chance.  During my childhood, as I’ve touched on before in my music blog post, I was allowed the freedom to find my love in the arts.  Not only did I listen to a lot of different music, but I also watched a variety of movies, and I also got into stand-up comedy.  I liked the popular stand ups of the time like Robin Williams, Rodney Dangerfield, etc.… but I also got even more into the guys I shouldn’t have at my age, like George Carlin and Sam Kinison.  They are still pillars of my emotional foundation.  I wanted to listen to everything they put out and I loved them dearly.  Kinison’s albums “Louder than Hell”, “Have You Seen Me Lately?”, and “Live From Hell” along with his HBO Comedy Special “Breaking the Rules” plus the bits he did on Rodney Dangerfield’s Young Comedian Specials still has me laughing up to this day, and  don’t even get me started on George.  “Free Floating Hostility” from his album “Back in Town” is something that I still preach as a foundation of my core principals in life!  Well, maybe not all of it.  “Cowboy hats and cowboy boots” is something that I wear, so I’ll skip that part of agreement with him.  I carried his first book, “Brain Droppings” around like the cherished item it was to me, and the thoughts and ideas therein made me feel like it was ok to be the outcast and forgotten person.  “You don’t want me to be a part of your group?  Well good.  I’m better by myself anyway, suckas!” was and still is my mentality.  I’ve never really fit in with anybody, nor have I wanted to.  What’s the point of doing so?

That brings me to the point of this little post.  Groups.  Last month, out of curiosity to satisfy the knowledge of why these people exist, I watched the expose documentary series on the freemasons.  As some of you may know, Catholic men like myself are forbidden from becoming members of said society, but instead of just being told that I couldn’t, I had to see the reasons why as to give myself ammunition for those who would seek to debate me on the topic.  I do the same thing every night learning my own faith so that I can defend it against those who oppose it or try to talk me out of it.  Anyway, there I was watching this multi part documentary all the while thinking to myself, “Why do people do these stupid things?”  Not just men and their freemasonry, or whatever.  Women too.  There are lots of groups, clubs, etc. that individuals join just to be part of something.  I can’t understand it.   Every little group thing I’ve been talked or forced into, I’ve hated.  Yes, even religious ones.  I’m so much of a loner that I can’t see the point of gathering together as a group to do the same thing.  It’s strange to me.  I’m such a private person when it comes to my interests that quite honestly I’d rather keep them to myself.  Does that make me even weirder?  The only interests that I share out to the public are this blog and my music.  I’m proud of the music I’ve made with my brothers, but I’m not going to go out and seek some sort of community either in real life or online about the brotherhood of being in a band.  Same thing with blogging.  I’m not gonna seek out some online forum for bloggers.  I don’t do either to seek the approval of others.  I do them as a creative outlet for me.  If somebody happens to enjoy either one of them, that’s freaking awesome and I thank you, but honestly, I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for me.

Maybe it’s the very strong type b personality of mine coming out, or the INFJ traits that manifest themselves more and more as each day passes, but I just don’t want to be a part of a larger group for anything.  I like to watch from afar and make decisions and speak on a topic from my own point of view and stand as an individual so that I can have my voice truly heard.  Are you still reading this?  Nah, you probably tuned out long ago.  Ha!  It’s alright.  It happens a lot.

Until next blog, amigos!