Two Sisters, Two Hospital Beds January 28, 2006

I’m writing this as I lay on the floor of my aunt’s Hospital Room. I have a sleeping bag, pillow, and most importantly my teddy bear. My aunt is sleeping but she is bound to wake up at any minute because every 1/2 hour they come in to take her temperature, blood pressure or give her more medication.  If she has to go to the bathroom, it is like a 10 minute process because I have to get her out of bed which is tough, then I have to unplugg all the machines (which scares me to death) and then she has to walk the 10 steps to the bathroom which is very hard for her to do. But I wouldn’t change it for the world, it makes me feel at ease to be able to be here with her; last night at home I was very stressed out and could not sleep with anxiety. If it weren’t for my friend Pablo who called from L.A. to distract me for over an hour, I don’t know what I would have done.

Once again today was a devastating day. Across the Atlantic, in Colombia, my mother is lying in another Hospital bed. She was once again hospitalized today. Last night she fell and cracked her skull and today she was probably at the worst I’d ever heard her. She had to go to the Emergency Room and was admitted into the hospital because of her precarious condition. She sounded so gone when we talked. She could not say more than 5 words. So weak and so cold. I wish I could’ve talked more to her but she didn’t want to talk, she is so weak that I imagine it actually hurst to speak. I also don’t think she wants me to ‘realize’ how sick she is. (AS IF I DIDN’T KNOW!) Typical of my family: trying to block-out the sun with her finger.  

How sad is it that my mom and my aunt, two sisters, are lying in hospital beds in two different parts of the world… 2/3 of my Holy Trinity (my grandmother is the remaining 1/3) is hospitalized and there is nothing I can do.  Nena (grandma) still doesn’t know that my aunt is hospitalized and also quite ill. And now, with the delicate condition my mom is in and the fact that she had to be hospitalized again today, we are definitely NOT going to tell her.

So now I’m lying on this sad floor, in this sad hospital, with my sad teddy bear, wanting nothing more than for my two moms to get better and for some happy times to come my way. Yesterday I said that things could not possibly get worse, but unfortunately I spoke too soon, TODAY they got much worse with my mother’s hospitalization.  My eyes are beyond swollen from the tears, my heart is bleeding in pain, and I’m so tired. Is there no justice in the world?

Let It Be Me January 27, 2006

My day started out fine. I went to pick up Diego, we went to the beach, he taught me the ‘theoritcal’ part of kite-boarding, I then watched him actually kite-board to see exactly how it works. I then had a treat: I got to take pictures of him kite-boarding using his amazing camera which I love. We had such a nice, soothing, calm day at the beach. In the afternoon we had a great lunch and then walked around and spent some wonderfully bonding quality time together.

Cut to: Interior. Day. My House.
My aunt, (who I live with and has been like a mother to me my entire life and more so now since we live together and treats me just like a daughter), left at 7am with my uncle to go to the hospital because she was going to have a rutine exploratory laparoscopy to check something out.

Cut to: Exterior. Day. Beach.
I call the hospital at 12pm to ask how the procedure is going. Turns out the procedure is delayed and hasn’t even started. I am told it will begin shortly and she’ll be done in an hour.

Cut to: Exterior.Day. Beach.
I call the hospital at 2pm and ask how the procedure went. My uncle tells me the procedure is still taking place. I say I will call back and just assume that they took longer to start.

Cut to: Exterior. Day. Restaurant.
At 5pm when Diego and I finish lunch, I call the hospital again. My uncle tells me that she is STILL in the O.R. and that there has been some complication.

Cut to: Interior/Exterior. Evening. Car.
At 6pm I call again. I’m told she is finally in the recuperation area. Still ‘out’ from the general anesthesia. I’m told that she had a histerectomy, but sense that my uncle is worried. I decide to drop Diego off and go to the hospital.

Cut to: Interior. Night. Hospital.
At 7:45pm I arrive at the hospital and meet my cousin (aunt’s daugher) outside of the recuperation area. She tells me that while they were doing the exploratory laparoscopy, they discovered Cancer in my aunts female organs (Falopian Tubes,Uterus,Cervix & Ovaries) and that they had to be taken ALL OUT. They don’t know if the cancer has spread and we won’t know until Monday when they finish running all the tests.  I felt as if she had run-over me with a bulldozer. My eyes swelled up with tears and before I could say anything my cousin said: “She doesn’t know anything yet so you have to be strong and act normal.” I went in to see my aunt and I was overwhelmed with emotion at seeing her lying on the bed, hooked up to so many machines, and so feeble and weak looking. This woman has taken care of me during my most miserable times, she used to FEDEX me medicine when I lived in NYC and I got sick, She would send me an entire special Birthday Cake each year on my birthday, She opened the doors of her home to me and has me living in her house as her daughter. This woman who even though my mother hates her (for no reason) is ALWAYS involved in my mother’s recuperation process and helps any and every way she can. She is my ROCK. MY STRENGTH. My role-model. It was too devastating for me to see her. I had to step out of the room and just cry alone for a while.

They let us stay with her until around 9:30pm and then my cousin Felipe (my aunt’s son) and I came home; my uncle decided to sleep at the hospital with her.

FADE TO BLACK. 

***
This is NOT about me. This is about HER. But it is happening in MY WORLD. It is parallel to my life and because of it I asked myself on the drive home: WHAT MORE CAN HAPPEN TO MAKE MY LIFE JUST A LITTLE WORSE? She is a SAINT. She doesn’t deserve this. Please let it be me. I’ll take her place. I’ll have cancer. I’ll be in the hospital. Just let her be ok. I can not DEAL with her being sick. She is my north. She is the only person I can lean on right now. Let me be sick. My grandmother can’t have her two daughter’s sick. She won’t be able to deal with it. She already lost a son to cancer when he was 10. She already has to live with my mom’s terrible illness every day, she will not be able to cope with knowing her other daughter has cancer. My grandomther won’t even say the WORD cancer, she calls it “the zodiac illness”, or “that horrible illness”, she is supersticious about even saying it because she’s already lost SO many family members to it. PLEASE, LET ME HAVE CANCER AND NOT MY AUNT.  She has two kids, a husband, a great career, a beautiful house, a life… I don’t have anything. Let it be me and not her. Please please please please please…

Cupid Must Remain Neutral January 25, 2006

I’ve created two monsters. Yes, I am like Dr. Frankenstein and I’ve created two monsters. Curious? Ok, I’ll go back to the beginning. I have written in the past about my best friend Diego. Who I love and adore and who is just the ultimate magnificent guy. I have also written about my friend Claudia who is my closest dearest friend here and who I absolutely adore as well. (She’s more like a sister than a friend, that’s how close we’ve become.) Now you know the characters of the story so I’ll begin with the plot line. Diego arrived in Miami to spend a few weeks here for Christmas and New Year’s and the first day we were going to meet up, I brought Claudia along. KNOWING VERY WELL that Diego was going to like Claudia. I just KNEW IT. (I know HIM very very well.) What I didn’t kow was if Claudia was going to like him.  Diego quickly realized that this was a woman not to be taken lightly and that this wasn’t some little stupid vacation romance, and that she was amazing, so what did he do? He got scared. (He is, afterall, a man.) He THOUGHT he didn’t want anything serious with anyone and that he just wanted to be alone and date different people, so he simply backed off. I was a bit confused by the act, but I can read him like a book, so I talked to him about it. I told him that FEAR doesn’t get you anywhere. I told him that something that involves the biggest risk, usually gives you the biggest reward. I told him that if he didn’t atleast TRY (and let go of his fear) he would NEVER know if maybe this was the woman of his dreams. I told him that there was a 50/50 chance that she would not be interested, but that wasn’t it better to try atleast and KNOW for sure, rather than keep the “what if….” for LIFE. I told him that when someone this incredible walks into your life you have to LET GO of your issues, your fears, and your  “I don’t want anything serious”, and GO AFTER HER because if not, you will lose her and possibly a chance to be with someone that will make you immensely happy.  And furthermore, who cares about geography (aka DISTANCE) anyway???!!! Love doesn’t care. Romance doesn’t care. Passion doesn’t care. And the heart and mind certainly don’t care. So, why should he. Many other things came up in our conversation, but the synopsis is: fight against your fears, give it a try, go after the woman you think is amazing, or you will regret it later…
AND GUESS WHAT? Only 2 weeks later and they are FANTASTICALLY HAPPY AND IN LOVE. And they’re not worried about the past, or the future, or who lives where or does what. They are just enjoying life together (and sometimes apart- although still together)!!  It feels so good to see two people I love so much so happy together. (I of course would be just as happy if they were happy with OTHER people, but this way I’ll probably get a chance to see them more!!) It’s wonderful the power love has, it can completely change your life. Change the way you see things. Change YOU. I must admit that it is still a bit surreal, seeing them together. Not in a bad way, just different. I think it’s because I saw them just hang out like friends for a few weeks and interract with eachother as friends, and suddenly cut to the next scene: they’re holding hands and kissing. So it’s like going from one extreme to the next, that’s all. One thing that does concern my a little bit, is that my relationship with them individually, changes. I really hope not. I also hope I’m never put in the middle of anything if they EVER have a problem or argument (I don’t think they will.) Because in this sort of situation, I must remain neutral, because I love them both, and I would never ever take sides. Cupid must remain neutral at all times just like Switzerland. HE! I’m suddenly a mythological figure AND a European country all in one! We’ll see how things go, it’ll be fun to see them figure things out and see them so happy, and I must say, I’m already being contaminated by there lovey-ness,  it’s very contagious! ENEMIES OF LOVE BEWARE: Don’t hang around two people that are crazy about eachother if you do not wish to become contaminated, it is HIGHLY CONTAGIOUS and exposure to them for prelonged periods of time WILL CAUSE A REACTION!

Experiencing Life As A Whale January 22, 2006

I started going to the gym again. (Feel free to take bets on how long I’ll keep going.) I went once, on Friday, and two days later, my muscles are in serious agony. My thighs and arms are dying…I’m always doing cardio, so that part doesn’t hurt me, what kills me is the weights. When I start going to the gym, I start doing weights, and my muscles HATE ME for it. For the past two days I have not been able to go back to the gym because I can not fathom making the pain worse. Tomorrow I’ll go for sure. I don’t know why I suddenly got the inspiration to work out again… It just suddenly appeared. Maybe having more free time on my hands had something to do with it. You see, after breaking up with my ex-boyfriend (after 2 1/2 years of a very TORMENTED relationship where I was very unhappy, and gave EVERYTHING, and received very little in return) I gained like 25 pounds. (11 kilos!!!) Even though this man was not worthy of me, I was so in love, that losing him sent me on downward spiral. And I started eating like a pig! Donuts, cookies, Pound-Cake, Pizza, Chinese food, (And in NYC you can get any of these things delivered to your house 24hours a day, so I didn’t even have to leave my house!) After experiencing life as a whale, and hating it, and hating that none of my clothes fit, and hating how I felt about myself, and what I saw in the mirror, I decided that I wanted my old,comfy,nice body. So I started dieting, but GUESS WHAT? You can gain 25 pounds in 6 weeks, but it’s VERY VERY HARD to lose 25 pounds in 6 weeks! So I lost a lot of the weight at first, and then stopped dieting because I somehow didn’t care anymore, and then I would get serious again and lose a little more, and so on… And now, I would say I’m only like 5 pounds (2.2 kilos) away from my ideal weight. So the gym has nothing to do with losing weight, it’s more about getting healthy, toning up, and not having so much leisure time. I remeber thinking, at the top end of the infamous 25 pounds, “why can’t I be one of those girls that starves herself when she’s depressed?” It was like the last unforgiveable act my ex performed: he made me gain 25 pounds. If your curious why I stayed with him for so long, all I can say is, I’m somewhat crazy and perhaps a bit of a masochist. I loved him. And when he made me happy, he made me the happiest I’ve ever been. But when he made me miserable, he made me more miserable than anything I’ve experienced before or since. I guess I could live off the happy moments and sort of ignore the miserable ones. I did break up with him many times, and actually had another boyfriend that was absolutely in love with me, but it was no use, completely futile, I was blocking out the sun with my finger.  He was like a weed, he would ALWAYS come back. Always crying, begging, imploring that I take him back and that things would be different and that I would never be able to escape him because we were made for eachother. And of course, silly girl that I am, I would believe him and give him yet another chance to prove himself. For a few days, even weeks sometimes, things were amazing. And then everything would start to change, and I’d feel him slipping through my fingers…  This went on WAY too long and in the end, to get out of this vicious cycle of happiness and doom, I left NYC (so now he doesn’t have my address or my home phone-number), changed my cell phone number, and blocked him from my e-mail. I don’t want you to think he was a psycho or that he hurt me physically. He never did. We had simply become a drug to eachother, a crutch that we could not escape and neither of us was EVER going to be able to move on. And I desperately needed to move on… So I disappeared from his life. I knew it was the only way that I would be able to get out of this ‘mess’. I erased his phone numbers from my cell phone (it took a bit longer to erase them from my memory, but if you don’t dial a number long enough, it does start to fade), I deleted text messages, emails, put old photos in a box, and forbade my close friends from even mentioning his name. I was trying to make him not exist. Because if he existed, I wanted him, no matter how bad things could get. It’s because I’m a romantic, so I always truly believed that he would change, that things would be amazing, that he wouldn’t disappoint me. And I was always wrong. He always proved me wrong. But I did learn with him everything I don’t want in a man, which is always a good lesson. I don’t want a man that’s cold. (I like to be kissed and hugged and cuddled and touched and hold hands and just be ga-ga.) I don’t want a man that lies (no matter how small the lie is). I don’t want someone who can’t keep their word and who promises things and doesn’t deliver. That only leads to disappointment, and I don’t want to be with someone that disappointms me, it’s too sad, frustrating and empty of a feeling. I also don’t want to give and give and not receive. I want things to be 50/50. It’s the only way they’ll work.
So, even in this tormented relationship, there were lessons to learn, and some nice memories remain. But now I take them for what they are, a remembrance of things past.

I Shall Overcome January 19, 2006

I’m transitioning between two jobs, so I finally have a little time to do all the things I never have time for, yet I’m somewhat overwhelmed with so many things I want to do that I quickly realize it might me easier to do nothing. But of course, I don’t want to do ‘Nothing’, I want to do EVERYTHING. I met with a talent manager a few days ago. She seemed to like me. We’ll see what happens.  I want to try and meet with a few more managers because I don’t like putting all my eggs in one basket. There is a  pathetic part to the story of meeting with the manager: about an hour before going to meet this woman, I almost chickened out. I thought to myself  ”I’m too ugly, too fat, too un-interesting, she’ll be so disappointed when she meets me…”  And I almost didn’t go! CAN YOU IMAGINE THAT! How sad. How utterly sad. I forced myself to go because I didn’t want to let down the people around me and because I’m a big girl and I can’t be so stupid all the time. But I assure you, that horrible insecurity started creeping in and it was very hard to ignore it. I just didn’t want to face rejection. Not in the state I am right now. Not with my world slowly crumbling around me. But in the end it was ok, I lived through it, the woman was very nice. Maybe a little focused on one area of the business and my interests are a LOT broader, but at this point, I’m not picky. I can still focus on my writing and music and other areas if I set my mind to it and if I make the time. I just have to start believing that I am good enough, I am talented enough, I am WORTHY. And I don’t have to be perfect, and I don’t have to measure up to anyone’s expectaions, or set obnoxiously high expectations for myself, because it’s not worth it and that only leads to more insecurity and more stress. I will overcome this insecurity issue. I must. I Shall Overcome.

Mom Update: Mom is not well at all. She can not leave the house. She can not shower on her own. She has fallen down a few times. All she does is lay on my grandmother’s bed and do nothing. (Apparently she does not even have the energy to fight with my grandmother.) She is VERY drugged. So much so that it’s heart breaking to hear her. She is extremely confused and can’t keep track of time well, and forgets everything, and has trouble finding the right words to express what she wants to say, and is obsessed about the phones not working, and is just over all very depressed and weak. She also is mad at my sister for some reason. She said she doesn’t want to talk to her and that all WE do is make her stressed out and ruin her day. (Both of us.) She says that to me and it’s like she’s stabbing a knife in my heart. Ruining her day? The stress and anxiety and severe sadness this situation is causing me is ruining my LIFE! She is not following any of the doctor’s orders, is not eating well, is not getting fresh air and sun, and is OBVIOUSLY abusing her medication. So at this rate she will NEVER qualify for a transplant and she is going to die. So our new plan is to get her to a medical institution where they will detox her completely and start building her immune system so that she will be able to survive a transplant. (Right now she has 0 defenses so she would not survive the transplant.) Of course it’s easier said than done. A. We are still finding the money for it.  B. How will we convince her to go?
Even if we had the money the convincing her to go is the biggest mountain we have faced to date. But it is CLEAR to us that she is not going to get well at home, that she will not do ANYTHING to help in her own recuperation and that at this rate she will NEVER qualify for a transplant and will die at home. (And the over medication is making everything worse.)

So, ain’t no sunshine in Lali-land yet, but soon. SOON. I’ll look back at all this and laugh and sing and dance and say: “Ha! I got through it all!” Because I SHALL OVERCOME.

I Had A Dream January 18, 2006

I had a dream last night. It was one of those long dreams that even when I woke up in the middle of the dream to go to the bathroom or drink water, I could still go back to sleep and go back into the dream. (This is a rare occurrence in my dream life, but it does happen.) The dream started out and I was in bed with someone. (I don’t know if I can use his name, so I’ll call him XYZ.) In the dream we were just in bed, doing NOTHING and I had obviously made it clear to him that NOTHING was going to happen and that he should not even try. But as I was laying there, on my side of the bed, all I wanted was for XYZ to turn around and put his arms around me… and just hold me. But I assume I had made it so clear that he shouldn’t do it, that he didn’t. So I just lay there awake, just imaging what his arms would feel like wrapped around me, holding me tight. Suddenly, he rolled over in his sleep, and now rather than laying back to back, we were laying face to back. After he rolled over he was closer, and because he was facing my back I could actually grab his right arm and wrap it around myself, WHICH I DID. I just couldn’t resist anymore. This woke him up. But he said nothing. He just got closer to me, adjusted his body to mine, held me tighter, kissed my kneck, and either went back to sleep, or pretended to. It was a magnificent silence! There was no need to say anything. (It is a well known fact that I can not sleep with anyone hugging me or embracing me in any way, but in my dream I slept peacefully all night wrapped in his arms.) The dream went on and on…  going out with friends was involved, and I remember something about a parking lot, and at one point I lost my wallet (although I realized it was in my purse the whole time). It was a very long dream, but the highlight of the dream was my wanting to feel those arms around me, (even though I had said I didn’t) and feeling that sweet agony of having him so close and yet so far away. And then, to end up as I wanted (even though I thought I didn’t), wrapped in those arms so tight, with that delicious kiss on my kneck, was simply amazing. That was the best part of the dream. And probably the best part of any dream I’ve had in a while. It was SO real. I could actually feel the butterflies, feel the arms, and a smile appeared on my face as he kissed my kneck so marvelously. It was so painfully real.
And now I’m awake. I didn’t want the dream to end. There was a glimmer of happinness in that dream, and because of it, I didn’t want to wake up. And there was something else in that dream, a feeling so alien to me that it was hard to identify at first, peace. In those arms I had peace. And I really don’t think I’ve ever had peace in my own life. Even for an instant. Real, genuine, peace. And I realize now, that is what I want, what I yearn for, someone who will give me peace.  

The Lies People Tell January 17, 2006

There are many lies people tell themselves. They may tell themselves they are skinny, or tall, or good-looking, or smart, or funny, or a good friend, a good parent, a good teacher; they may tell themselves they’re great athletes, good artists, generous, punctual, good cooks, great drivers, and an infinite number more, EVERYDAY. They may even tell themselves, and others, that they are happy… But the biggest lie people tell themselves (men in particular) is that they want to be alone. It just makes me laugh. Who in their right mind WANTS to be alone? On a late Sunday afternoon when it’s raining and cold, do you REALLY REALLY REALLY want to be alone? Or would you prefer to be snuggled in bed with the woman you love watching a movie, having some snacks, maybe some hot chocolate, and then, perhaps, NOT watching the movie anymore…
I hear this all the time: “This guy doesn’t want anything serious, he wants to be alone, so he’s just dating different girls.” The real issue here is that ‘this guy’ is SCARED. He was probably hurt or unhappy in his past relationships and he is now just scared to give his heart to someone else. He is also playing a little psychology: his current circumstance is that he is alone, so isn’t it better if he announces to the world that he LOVES being alone. That he wants to be alone. That he wants to date every girl that crosses his path??? That way, he can convince himself (and others) that his current circumstance is his CHOICE. (Not that he can’t find someone amazing to take seriously, not that no one amazing will give him the time of day, not that he is so scared to really fall in love with some that he has completely blocked himself.)
NO ONE WANTS TO BE ALONE. It’s that simple. Humans are raised to be in couples. It’s in our DNA. And if there’s something we can’t fight, it’s genetics. (I have my Latin-curves to PROVE that.)
So that part I understand, I understand the lie people tell themselves as a way to protect their hearts and as a way to make being alone seem a little less sad. (No matter how unfortunate a circumstance, if we CHOOSE it (or make other believe we have chosen it), it does seem more dignified.) But, the part I don’t understand is the WHY. Why be so afraid as to let someone that is perfect for you slip through your fingers? Why put up a wall? Why pretend you are happy having sex with idiotic girls when you can be making love to a woman? Why not fight for someone if you have nothing to lose and the world to gain? What leads someone to say: “I want to be alone, I don’t want anything serious” ? I wonder how empty it must feel to have nothing but meaningless encounters (sexual or otherwise). How sad it must be to constantly remind yourself that ‘you want to be alone, you want to be alone…’
I’ve been hurt. I’ve been hurt terribly. I’ve had my heart destroyed. And, to be fair, I’ve broken some hearts as well, but I think I’ve only completely destroyed two. But, I don’t think I’ve ever thought to myself: “I want to be alone, and have no serious relationships, and just fuck every guy that thinks I’m cute.” NEVER. Because: A. That’s not me. I just don’t believe in being promiscuous.  AND B. What would I get out of that?  And then even if someone fantastic came along, someone that shook my world, that made me open my eyes, that made me stop and think and sees thing in a different light,  I’d be TOO AFRAID to realize that this man, this wonderfully perfect (for me) man was what I’d been searching for my entire life. ALL BECAUSE I WAS TOO AFRAID & SCARED & IMMATURE… AND SOOOOO CONVINCED THAT WHAT I REALLY WANTED WAS TO BE ALONE.

Don’t fool yourself. Don’t fool others. Don’t let yourself be fooled. No man or woman wants to be alone. Every normal human being PREFERS to make love than to have casual sex.  Everyone wants someone in their life that they admire, that they can talk to, that makes them think, that turns them on, that makes them laugh, that puts a smile on their face for no reason (just because they’re in our world), Everyone wants someone special in their lives, EVERYONE wants love (for a month or for life)…  And whoever says they DON’T is such a liar that they don’t deserve it anyway…

Lapses of Existentialism January 14, 2006

I have entered the twilight zone. A strange place made up of over-emotional moments and lapses of existentialism where I don’t give a fuck about anything. As of yesterday, I no longer have a job which means I will have a lot of free time on my hands. Which means I will have MANY more economic worries. (WONDERFUL, JUST WONDERFUL ISN’T IT? 2006 IS STARTING OUT GREAT ALREADY.)  Which means I have one more rain storm over me, even though I’m already soaking wet. My little black cloud. It never leaves me. Everyone else in life can leave me. But my little black cloud will always be there. Always making things just a little worse for me just when I think it couldn’t POSSIBLY be worse.  It never gives up. It follows me everywhere I go, right over my head, teasing me, daring me to be happy. It says: “Just try, just give it a try baby, and as soon as I see a glimmer of anything good I will rain on your parade like there was no tomorrow.” And at times I say: “NO. I will not let ANYONE rain on my parade. I have worked so very hard to be where I am, to become who I am. I will get an umbrella and I will not let myself get wet.” These are the times when I feel over-emotional and sensitive and when there is some feeling left in my body. Other times, when I’m amidst an existential lapse, all I can manage to say is: “Go ahead and ruin my parade. I don’t give a damn. I don’t give a damn about anything. DO YOU HEAR ME? I don’t care. I’m used to it. It’s no surprise. So go ahead and rain on my stupid parade. It wasn’t even that good of a parade anyway. I don’t care.”
And this is how I feel about almost everything nowadays. I’m trapped in this cycle of caring and not caring. About the SAME THINGS. I might care this instant that my ex wants to get back together with me, and then in an hour I will have no feeling whatsoever about the entire situation. I will simply not care. Could not care less. And then later I might start thinking about it and having some emotions on the matter good or bad, happy or sad. And then suddenly I’ll just think: whatever. I don’t care. I couldn’t careless about him or any other guy. It’s like I’m trying to numb myself and I’m only half succeeding. I want to master it. I want to be the queen of numb. The ice princess. I want to not care and not feel and not give a fuck about anything because I just simply can not take it anymore. I simply can’t. So if I am succesful at numbing myself, then I’ll be able to take ANYTHING life throws my way because I just won’t care. Isn’t indifference one of the most hideous human emotions… They say it’s what hurts the most, more than anything else.  People HATE indifference.  Well I guess I  want to be hated and hideous then. I want to be the most hideous person on the planet.
If only there was a way to change who you are inside… My struggle toward indifference will end, as so many other things in my life, in absolute frustration. The emotional side of me, the side that feels, that loves, that desires, is too powerful. So my lapses will probably never turn into an existential life style, but for now, I DON’T CARE.

Return of Innocence January 12, 2006

Yesterday I realized, once again, that as hard as I may try to convince myself to be a realist and to be tough minded and to not let anything ‘get to me’, it’s quite hard. The main obstacle in achieving this is a very big flaw I have: I believe what people tell me. I take people at their word. (I think someone’s word is THEIR MOST IMPORTANT POSSESSION AND I TREAT IT AS SUCH.) So I believe what people tell me. And then, I’m often disappointed. So I tell myself, NO MORE. YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE ANYTHING YOU HEAR. You will not trust your ears ever again. You will only trust your eyes. Don’t believe something when someone tells it to you, believe it when they SHOW IT to you. And I repeat this in my head and I somehow to an auto-brainwash. With my brain freshly washed I am ready to face the world and all the broken promises it has to offer. And I do ok for a few days. Comfortably numb as so many of us are. Trying to believe that all men are innately bad. But I don’t really want to believe that. I’m just shielding myself. And I don’t want to shield myself. I want to FEEL. But, I also don’t want to get hurt or disappointed. So I’m caught in this horrible middle ground between protecting myself and wanting to trust another human being. What should I do? And then EVEN IF I TRY not to believe in someone else, as much as I brainwash myself, I ended up doing it anyway, so I ended up disappointed regardless of what I do. Which means I actually have TWO FLAWS: I’m too naive (because I believe what people say and I still believe that people value their ‘word’ ) and I SUCK at protecting myself. Well, don’t get me wrong I have MANY MANY MANY Flaws. An infinite number. And some I’m working on changing, some I have changed, some I have surrendered to, some I haven’t realized I have, some I actually like, some I detest, but all of them make me who I am. And someday I hope to find someone who will love me NOT despite my flaws, but BECAUSE of them. Until then, I shall continue on my vicious cycle of auto-brainwash and return to innocence. And maybe just maybe, someday soon, someone will give me a wonderful surprise: they will be honest & they will keep their word, and a slow, silent smile will appear on my face as if to say: “I knew it!”

Please Mommy Please January 11, 2006

Last night I woke up at 1:37am and as hard as I tried I couldn’t get back to sleep. Last time I looked at the clock on my nightstand it was almost 4am and I was still wide awake. Nothing in particular woke me up. There wasn’t a loud noise, I didn’t have a nightmare, I wasn’t hot or cold or hungry, I didn’t feel sick, I didn’t have to pee. My heart was, however, racing. Even as I write this, hours later, my pulse still has not regularized. It’s like a locomotive. I believe it’s anxiety. I wrote about it before: I firmly believe I’m amidst a mild anxiety attack. And how could I not be? There is only so much a girl can take… I wish I could swap my life with someone else’s if only for a day. So I could know what it’s like for one day to not have to worry about everything around me. It would be like a mini-vacation from my life. The problem would be that when the day was over I’d have to go back to my life and once I’d have seen the ‘other side’ going back to ‘my side’ would be infinitely harder.

Yesterday, when my mother once again blamed my grandmother for something (she said that she’s depressed and that it’s my grandmother’s fault because she won’t buy her an anti-depressant. NO DOCTOR HAS PRESCRIBED HER AN ANTI-DEPRESSANT. IF MY MOTHER TAKES ONE MORE PILL SHE WILL OFFICIALLY BECOME A WALKING PHARMACY! So it is VERY GOOD that my grandmother DOES NOT buy her an anti-depressant!!!!!!!!!) I told her that she had to STOP blaming her mother for everything. I told her I was pretty fucked-up and I didn’t blame HER for everything so why should she blame HER mother?! I told her that we had to start trying to be normal. I told her that I too was traumatized by HER but that I had to GET OVER IT or else I couldn’t lead a semi-normal (I’ll never be normal) life. I pleaded. I begged. I implored. Mommy please let’s try to be normal. Let’s try to be happy. Let’s try to have regular mom-daughter conversations about regular things. Please don’t cry every time I call you. Please don’t complain about everything every time I call you. Please don’t blame your mother for everything every time I call you. Please don’t speak to me in a voice like you just came back from a funeral every time I call you. Please smile. Please go out. Please see friends. Please try to be healthy. Please don’t be a zombie. Please put in the effort to save your own life. Please don’t die because you’re the only mom I’ve got. PLEASE MOMMY PLEASE I BEG YOU LET’S TRY TO BE HAPPY.

Magic & Hope January 9, 2006

I had a great weekend. My friend Diego (I already asked if I could use his name) invited my friend Claudia and I to Orlando and all we did was have fuuuun for 2 days. It was so nice to disconnect from my own personal reality and just let go and act like a 12 year old. And Diego of course, as always, was a prince. We road on all the rides, had wonderful meals, amazing talks, took great photos, laughed, and just bonded. He topped off the trip by grabbing a little sort of jewelry bag and saying to me: “I asked my inner self what would be the best gift I could give you” (And he opened the little bag and handed me a metal rock with the word ‘MAGIC’ written on it) and then I asked a greater power what you really need and that is some: (And he handed me a metal rock with the word ‘HOPE’ written on it). I immediately burst into tears. I was so moved by the situation. I was moved by how well he knows me, I was moved by how he can read me, I was moved by him. In fact, a few hours later when I was showing them to Claudia and explaining their meaning, I once again began to cry. But they were good tears. They were calm tears. They were ’somebody loves me’ tears. They were: I’m so incredibly fortunate to have a friend like him tears. They were also: I do really need some hope and magic tears. I really really do. Because I’m shutting down. I feel myself slowly shutting down. I HAVE lost hope. I’ve lost faith in so many things, I’ve lost hope that things can change, I’ve lost hope that my dreams can come true, that I can be happy, that I will find love, that I will find peace. And I’ve stopped believing in magic. And that is just tragic. It’s just that when I’ve had hope, I’ve been disappointed. When I have belived in magic I’ve seen the smoke and mirrors. But I guess it’s much sadder to go throughout life without believing… So I’m going to carry Magic and Hope with me every day, wherever I go, and hopefully some day soon I’ll become infected.

My Own Personal Buddhist Monk January 6, 2006

I’m having trouble breathing at night. It’s like I can’t get enough oxygen into my lungs. It’s very strange. I find myself taking very deep breaths through my mouth in order to inhale enough oxygen. I wake up and the problem continues and them it sort of fades away. (It only happens sporadically throughout the day.) And then it comes back at night. It seems like every day it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. I hope it’s just anxiety. (Is it funny that I ‘HOPE’ it’s anxiety? What I mean is: I prefert it to be anxiety than something more serious.) If it’s anxiety, I’m having a serious anxiety attack because the breathing situation at times gets scary.

I’m going to Orlando for a few days. I told my friend D—- (Sorry, I haven’t asked him if I can use his name in my blog) that I couldn’t go because I was quite broke after having to send so much money to Colombia to cover SOME of my mom’s medical costs and he said that it was his birthday in a few days and that he wanted to be with the people he loved. In other words, that I should LET HIM invite me as MY birthday gift to him. Is he for real? Is that not the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard? (Read?) I simply adore him. He has the purest most honest sincere heart of anyone I know. He is good to the bone and that is why everybody loves him and that is why life shines on him and that is why he makes friends everywhere he goes. That is also why I have grown so attached to him, why he is one of the few people I confide in about the medical details of my mom’s illness, and why I consider him my own personal Buddhist monk. He is my daily dose of GOOD VIBRATIONS! He encompasses peace. Just being in his presence makes you feel tranquil and relaxed. In life you come across few people like him and I am so very blessed that our two paths crossed and that he is a part of my life. A few times people have asked me: “Have you and D—- ever dated?” And I give them a huge smile and happily answer: “NO.” Because if we had (despite the fact that he doesn’t like blondes…jejeje) he would probably NOT be a part of my life anymore and that would be a TRAGIC loss. Plus, it was never really something either one of us was interested in. We just immediately had this cosmic friendship connection. There are times when we don’t speak for months and still I know that our friendship is so strong and intact and pure that no matter what happens I can count on him and he can count on me. No matter where I am in the world I know he would come and rescue me if I was in trouble. And I’m not sure I can say that about ANYONE else who is not a member of my family. (And even there the options are VERY LIMITED.) So it’s impossible for me not to love and adore this giant among men who is almost super-human in his ways and who’s strength of heart and character I admire every day. Never did I imagine I would be so lucky as to count, among my closest of friends, with a very own living angel.

Heroine for the Soul January 5, 2006

I was reading a comment a faithful reader wrote about my entry from yesterday and it got me thinking again about writing and words. And the power of words. I’ve been know to say that words are like ‘heroine for the soul’. Words can give you the highest of highs. Sometimes when words are absent (words you desperately need to hear) you can reach the lowest of lows. (The same as with heroine. Not that I know from personal experience, this is just general knowledge )
Words are so powerful that they maintain their power even when NOT SAID.
An ‘I love you’ can send you to the moon. But NOT hearing an ‘I love you’ can send you into disppair. THE POWER OF THE ALMIGHTY WORD. That is why we must watch what we say. Words are indelible. Many of us NEVER forget what we hear. Many of us take people at their word and trust that what the other person is saying is true because ‘why should it not be?’ Words are weapons, words are gifts, words are joy, words are sorrow, words are everything and nothing. And maybe the world would be a better place if more of us learned how to use them better….
Silence is also AMAZINGLY POWEFURL. The power of silence is directly related to the power of words because it is the absence of words. And silence can be one of the most powerful weapons in a person’s arsenal.

Subject Change:
Mom is still not well. I believe (I don’t have proof but I have many supporters for my theory) that she is abusing her medication in a MAJOR way. She is, as we say in Spanish, constantly ‘dopada’. (Sort of drugged out). I assume she’s doing it to numb the pain, both emotional and physical and to try to cope and be strong. The problem is if I so much as MENTION it, she goes on a tirade and yells and then immediately blames my grandmother for telling lies about her. (When I in fact have not even spoken to my grandmother yet that day.) I cried yesterday when I talked to her for 90% of the conversation. I had to hold the mouth piece of the phone toward the ceiling so she wouldn’t hear me. I see her slipping through my hands and I don’t know what to do… I just don’t want to lose my mom. I couldn’t deal with it. My mommy is everything. I just want her to get well emotionally so she can dedicate herself to getting well physically….

I never pity myself. EVER. But I do sometimes wish I could have a normal life. With a normal family and a regular mom and a father and a brother to take care of me and a dog. I think that’s one of the reasons I’m so happy living with my aunt and uncle in Miami because they are NORMAL. I now live in a normal house, with normal people, who have no problems and when they do, they are NORMAL problems. And we have normal family dinners. And normal conversations. And no one is crying, or depressed, or complaining, or yelling. But, even though I live with them, I am not one of them. I am tainted. I am scarred. I am different. I am not normal. I don’t have a regular mom, I have a father who abandoned me, I don’t have a brother to take care of me, I have an older sister I never see and a younger sister who hates me, and I had 2 dogs I LOVED and both times (on separate occassions), when they were STILL puppies, I came home from school and my mom had gotten rid of them. I couldn’t even say goodbye to them. They were just gone from my life forever.
Anyway, my life is far from picket-fence material. And yet, I find myself living with my aunt & uncle & cousin in their picket-fence house and life and I love it because it’s how I always wanted to grow up. But I’ve already grown up (techincally) and I can’t help but feel like I don’t belong anywhere. Not in their perfect world. Not in my own messed up world. Nowhere. I left NYC for so many reasons including the fact that bankruptcy was knocking at my door. But also because it had sucked me in SO MUCH that I knew if I didn’t leave NOW I’d never leave. NY is like a drug. You get hooked. And now I’m in Miami and I feel I don’t belong here. But I also don’t belong in Colombia anymore. And I couldn’t go back to NYC right now. So my heart is a nomad even if I am not. It’s searching for something, I don’t know what…. But I desperatley need to find it because I’m tired of being tired, I’m tired of being sad, I’m tired of not belonging, I’m tired of ‘trying’ to be happy, I’m tired of waking up and not looking forward to anything, I’m tired of crying myself to sleep. I’m tired, just so very very tired…

i’m afraid to tell you January 4, 2006

One of my loves in life is writing. You might have realized that by now just by the fact that I have decided to dedicate time to writing and maintaining a blog. I love to write all kinds of things.
I write Short Stories, I write Plays, I write Screenplays, I write news articles, I write interviews, I write about Race Cars, I write in my journal, I’m even working on a novel that I will finish before I die (if I die many many years from now), I also write poetry. I love poetry. Some of my poetry rhymes, some doesn’t. Some is silly, some is simple, some is serious, some is complex. But all of it is very personal. It’s a slice of my life. Some of the poems I wrote years ago still ring true today, and some that I write today, I very well could have written years ago. I imagine if I am ever able to publish a book of my poetry every man I ever dated will stand up and shout: “this is DEFINITELY about me” and they’ll probably be wrong. Because it’s really not about them. It’s about me. And some men have inspired 0 poems, and some have inspired 1000. But one of the poems from Mr. 1000 could very well have been written for Mr.0. My poems are derived from inspiration so I guess they are my poems, but ultimately they are not my own. They have been inspired by someone, something, a moment, a feeling, a look, a touch, a kiss. In my own version of Khalil Gibran I could say that: my poems are not MY poems, they are the manifestation of inspiration’s longing to be put into words…

i’m afraid to tell you

i’m afraid to tell you that i’m not brave
that i need to be saved
that what you see in my eyes is sorrow
that i don’t believe in tomorrow
that i can’t take any more pain
that i love to walk in the rain
that i adore a nice suprise
that i hate unnecessary lies
that i’ve broken more than one heart
that i tore them apart
that i destroyed their hope
that i just couldn’t cope
that i want to forget my past
that i want to erase it at last
that i love to sing in the shower
that i do have some inner power
that i love fast cars
that i have so many scars
that i wake up with thoughts of you
that i really don’t know what to do
that i’m just a scared girl
whose world has been given a twirl.

Ms. Espejo has Deceased January 3, 2006

I had a nightmare the other night. I rarerly have nightmares. It’s very hard to explain it without using props, but it involved dying of suffocation in my own car. A vacuum was being created and there was no air to breathe inside my car and I couldn’t yell to my friend Claudia for help because I was already dying. It was horrible. (One of my biggest fears is suffocating. I have a moderate case of clinical claustrophobia.) I was in such a state of panic, that I woke up hyperventilating. I never got to actually ‘die’ in the dream because the hyperventilating woke me up. As I said, I’m not a person that has nightmares often, so this one caused a double impact: the fact that I actually HAD a nightmare, and the fact that it was of dying in such a horrible way. (Is there ANYTHING worse than not being able to breathe!!!??????) It’s the stress I suppose. It’s all the changes in my life. It’s all the drama. It’s all the uncertainty. I have been trying to relax and enjoy myself but it has been some what impossible as every time I arrive home my aunt welcomes me with more bad news, and more trauma, and more reasons why I should be worried.
Also, something very strange happened: On October 20th early in the morning I was involved in a car accident. I looked through my rearview mirror and I noticed an enormous white Dodge pick-up Truck heading toward me FULL SPEED AHEAD during rush hour traffic when EVERYONE ELSE was doing 25mph. (This guy was going ATLEAST 60mph if not more) And I kept thinking, “he’s going to hit me, he’s going to hit me, he’s not stopping, he’s going to hit me” and the guy NEVER slowed down and when he was about 3 meters behind I FREAKED OUT and accelerated my own car and swerved to the left in order to avoid beign hit. (SURVIVAL INSTINCT) Well, upon doing this I hit a girl, who hit another girl. (3 car pile up!) And the guy in the white Pick Up sort of scraped by me, realized what he’d done and fled the scene! I was LIVID. The girl that I hit directly saw everything and even tried to write down the guy’s license plate number and only got 2 numbers. Since she saw everything she was not upset. And neither was the third woman involved. I was furious. Thankfully no one was injured, we moved our cars out of the way and waited for about 30 minutes until the police got there. Then the whole process with the police took another 30 minutes and then to add insult to injury I got my FIRST TICKET EVER for causing the accident. Anyway, it was all quite pleasant (for this type of situation) and the girls were very nice and we told eachother all about our lives and got to know a little about eachother.
Then two bad things happened: 1. My insurance DID NOT cover the damages to my car. So I had to wait like 2 weeks to fix it because I couldn’t afford to fix it.
2. The third girl in the pile-up (not the one I hit directly, but the other one) Started a $20,000 law suit against me for Medical damages.
I was once again FURIOUS. This was, of course, a false, frivolous, shameful, law suit. She was trying to take advantage of the situation and of an innocent person. I was so mad and very worried because I of course don’t have $20,000 and even if I sold my car which is the only thing I own, I would still not have $20,000. (In fact if I sold my car, I’d OWE money on it.)
So, on top of all the other drama in my life, this is something else that I’ve been dealing with- THIS FAKE LAW SUIT AGAINST ME.
Well…. Friday I get a phone call as I’m driving to meet some friends. “Do you have a moment to talk? It seems there has been some strange events during the past few weeks and we’d like to talk to you. First of all, we’d like to tell you, we’ve gotten a letter from Attorney XXXX, the law suit against you has been DROPPED.” Lali: “What? YEY! WOW. That’s Great! Why?” (I’m thinking: The woman FINALLY had an attack of guilty concious and decide NOT to ruin my life!) And the woman on the other line says: “Well Miss, Ms. Espejo has DECEASED.” WHAT??????????!!!!!! NO. You have to be kidding. She couldn’t have. HOW? When? (I’m thinking: Please don’t be dead. You can sue me. Just don’t be dead.) “Well, all we know is that she passed away on December 6th and we still don’t know how.” I had to pull over and stop my car. I was in SHOCK. And then she said: “But the investigation isn’t closed yet. We still haven’t discarded that she might have died from the accident.” WHAT!!!!!!!??????????? The accident 8 weeks earlier?? Where there was NO BLOOD or broken bones, or bruises, impact, or ANYTHING. Where we talked and walked around and told eachother jokes and our life stories? NO WAY. Once again SHOCKING how the American Beaurocratic Insurance System works. That’s why they’re so damn expensive.
SHIT. I just realized something. FUCK FUCK FUCKER. This was Friday. And Sunday I had the nightmare where I was dying of suffocation in my car!!!! COULD IT BE A SIGN?????? NO! YES? Oh GOD. I will absolutely freak out. If there’s something I’m scared of it’s the ‘beyond’ or however you call it. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. Ok, must stop writing before I come up with some strange conspiracy theory………..

My Little Black Cloud January 2, 2006

2006. Wow. I remember when 2000 was a big deal. Y2k and all the hoopla surrounding it. And now it’s 6 years later and it seems like we’re all the same. The world is still the same place. Wars are still being fought, hunger still prevails, natural disasters abound, and we are all still as clueless…
Some days ago I wrote about what I learned in 2005, so I thought it might be appropriate to write some New Year Resolutions for 2006 and leave them here as written proof. (Sort of as a testimony to my mediocrity in case I don’t complete them.) I honestly haven’t given this much thought but as I’m sitting here writing there are a few things that pop into my mind, for instance:
I want to learn about photography.
I want to finally pick 20 of my poems in Spanish and put together a book.
I want to be happier. (Is this something I have control over?)
I want to FINALLY open my heart/mind to new love. (There IS life after…!!)
I want to sing in public.
I want to relax a little more. And breathe a little more. And smell the flowers a little more.
I want to start pursuing my dreams harder.
I want to get out of debt.
I want to learn a new sport.
I want to be more healthy.
I want to have MORE FUN.
I want to produce a play.
I want to find a way to save my mother’s life.
I want to be a better person.

That sounds about right. There’s nothing more I can think of right off the top of my head. Every once in a while I can look back at this entry and see how well I’m doing (or failing miserably). 

In any case, 2006 is finally here and since it can not possibly be worse than 2005, I’m somewhat happy. My New Year’s Eve was fun. I partied with friends until 5:30am with friends, had a lot of champagne and wine, and danced like a ballerina. It was GREAT. I didn’t have an official plan until around 5pm on the 31st and it ended up being a fantastic night.
I called my mom at around 10pm because she had told me not to call her at midnight because she’d be sleeping. I was so sad to hear her. She seemed so spaced out and incoherent. I hate her doctor. We all hate him. She is obviously not getting better and after a brief period (2 days) where he decided to include me via e-mail in my mother’s recuperation process he has now left me out in the cold and will not answer my mails. And in fact, told my grandmother to not hand the phone to my mother when my sister or I call. (THE GUY IS A FUCKING MORRON.) (Pardon my french.)
Anyway, we’re trying to figure out how we go about changing her doctor and what are the costs involved since we still owe this doctor so much money and we can’t ‘leave him’ without paying him first… Still no luck in selling the paintings in my grandmother’s apartment, so the very “RESPECTABLE” doctor has been calling my grandmother to harrass her and raise his voice at her and say that he wants his money. (LIKE MY 80 YEAR OLD GRANDMOTHER IS GOING TO LEAVE THE COUNTRY OR SOMETHING!!!) Which has been quite unpleasant and frustrating and makes me hate the doctor even more. And once again, I’m so far away, and there’s nothing I can do….
Well, HAPPY NEW YEAR. Hopefully 2006 will lift the ‘little black cloud’ that has been following me around for the past several years, and it’ll be ONLY BLUE SKIES FOR ME!