Mango Pie

In a recent piece, a Nuyorican cnn commentator called Supreme Court nominee Sonia Sotomayor as American as mango pie. I can think of a few people who would be very offended by this statement. The belief that nothing is more American than apple pie and baseball is burned into many American's consciousness. But, here's a reality check: Puerto Ricans have been an integral part of New York and the United States as a whole (and not just through West Side Story, Jennifer Lopez and baseball) for almost two hundred years. Furthermore, Puerto Rican's are only one the thousands of nationalities, ethnic groups, and language groups that now call the United States their home.

Americans need to comprehend that culture is not static, it is no unchangeable, set in stone, or manifested in history. Instead culture is evolutionary and malleable. While mango pie might have been unheard of 100 years ago, I found a delicious recipe right here. I can think of many variations (without sounding horribly inappropriate): Fried plantane pie, sticky rice pie, blood sausage pie, pizza pie, palta pie, rice and bean pie etc etc etc.

My response to that is why not mango pie? It sounds pretty delicious to me.

What kind of pie are you?

Dear Robin reconnecting me with my blog

The Rules Are:

1. Link to the person who tagged you (did that above)
2. Post the rules on your blog (doing that here)
3. Write 6 random things/unspectacular quirks about yourself
4. Tag 6 people at the end of your post and link to them
5. Let each person you have tagged know by leaving a comment on their blog
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is posted.

So- My dear friend robin has a wonderful blog that connects me to wonderful things like my favorite books, etsy art, and memories. this is a link to her bloghttp://www.alittlerobin.com/' 

now I am supposed to share some quirky things about me... here we go.

1)  I like reading more than one book at the time. Mostly they are connected by theme (like earlier this summer the theme was Mormon- I was reading Under the Banner of Heaven, The book of Mormon and Escape all at once) Right now the theme is Public Health ( I am reading one about the Salk Polio vaccine, one about the cholera epidemic in london in the 1840's and the consequent  discovery by Dr. Snow about the Broad street water pump as the culprit and the last one i'm reading about how a Hmong family is able to connect their traditional beliefs with western medicine when their daughter begins having epileptic attacks)

2) I love watching movies. I have one specific movie partner I love watching movies with the most. Any movie works for me, i don't even have to like it that much- I like it when the room is dark and i am curled up on the couch, i love making unnecessary comments about the acting and dialogue, I love pretending that i too am a professional movie critic (this one was ok , not as good as last nights, i would give it one thumb up, can you even say one thumb up?) ALso I love going to the movie theatre- but I usually get too cold inside. 

3) Speaking of cold- I am always cold and I hate it. I hate being cold. The thought of having to walk to class in the freezing weather is making me anxious already- its only September. I am cold when I sleep, cold in bed, cold when i wake up, cold when its warm outside. I get made fun of a lot for it. 

4) I like eating my foods mixed together. My mom thinks its rude and disgusting. For some reason tho I like having all my foods in one bite- cold and warm. Not sweet things tho- since i don't like sweet things in the first place ( i know im horrible- i dont liek cake or muffins or candy- sorry robin!!)

5) I hate being alone but I love living alone. I like having my won space, my own life, my own place, but i always always have people over- especially for meals. I love cooking for people and having people over for slumber parties. Some people think they overextend their stay and that they should leave but i assure them that i would kick them out if i got sick of them. I really do love having people around and mothering them. 

6) I love things that make my house smell nice...scented candles, incense, burning oils, perfume, plug ins, flowers, febreeze. In fact sometimes i use all of them together- its a bit much. 

ANyway- dear Robin- I love you dearly and miss you so much. 

elephantine

i hate sitting around and feeling like that person who was just screwed. not in a horrible way- not like my best friend just spread a rumor about me - not like i got caught cruising facebook at work- not like i completely humiliated myself in front of a large crowd. it is however a feeling like someone who i want to believe and who i want to be with who blows me off. someone who i want to see so badly for no reason at all someone who i know this about: why would i want to be with someone so badly who does not be with me always who does not want to be with me in bad time in annoying times in boring times- but only selective times. 

it seems silly. i should be able to do what he does. not be pick up the phone. make other plans and  disregarding his plans at all. be ready for other people. close my eyes and not see him. it doesnt make any sense at all. 

not sleeping again

Something always wakes me up way too early. The noise of the constructions that are being made on the house across the street (sanding, boombox, electric saw), some car starting in the parking lot, me sighing too loudly. I open my eyes (just a little bit) and think please please don't think it don't think it just go to sleep and then i fail miserably again and again and think of him. Then it all begins: my heart tightens, my lungs tighten, my stomach hurts, and i can't ever sleep again. not that day. 

I think: do i deserve this- it is not love when he leaves me- it is not love when he strings me along and says things that perhaps are appropriate for that moment - he might even feel it at that time but not when he leaves, not when he is alone not when he is with someone else. 

how dare he take my sleep away, my rest, the only time of my days my thoughts of him are absent unless he visits in my dreams (although sometimes other men visit my dreams as well- like Paul McCartney who was my lover in last nights dream) But he doesn't care he is taking that away- no just as he didn't care when he took my heart when he took the future we were supposed to have. 

I fluctuate between being desperate and being angry. How dare he talk to me like this and then ignore me- how dare he take my sleep- how dare he leave me in the first place- how dare he after 3.5 months apart to still rob me of my sanity like this. 

ginger

this is the newest member of the clan: ginger the goldendoodle.

i love him mostly because he is kind of strange looking.

dalai llama

Maybe you have to be the 14 dalai llama to be so happy and nice. he was funny, and gentle, and soft spoken, and he laughed at him self. the buddha reincarnate laughed at himself. maybe that is what we are all missing- a bit of humor- not take ourselves so seriously- understand our modesty in life- our miniscule part in this giant universe. positive attitude, thirst for knowledge, open mindedness. affection. 

getting over

I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
I'm no longer moved to drink strong whisky
'Cause I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived till I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
Your face it dances and it haunts me
Your laughter's still ringing in my ears
I still find pieces of your presence here
Even after all these years
But I don't want you thinking I don't get asked to dinner
'Cause I'm here to say that I sometimes do
Even though I may soon feel the touch of love
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
If I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

-colin hay

also 

"30 Cents, Two Transfers, Love"
Thinking hard about you
I got onto the bus
and paid 30 cents car fare
and asked the driver for
     two transfers
before discovering that I
     was alone. 

-Richard Brautigan

"Please"
Do you think of me
as often as I think
     of you? 

-Richard Brautigan