A crossroads.....

.....yes, a cliche, but a crossroads nonetheless. 2009 has brought tremendous changes for me, most of which were unwelcome. But they came regardless of my most passionate efforts towards a different reality and so here I am now. December 31, 2009, a full moon above, a rare occasion as I've read. I sit here as a guest in a familiar house with curlers in my hair awaiting the night to start, a night that will bring memories and pictures along with the new year. Yet, I am not where I imagined myself to be. This feels almost like a lie but not as harsh or cruel. It's as if I am machine in a car factory, diligently doing what I must, completing the task put before me, but all without feeling, emotion, or desire. That's what 2009 has felt like for me. I want 2010 to be on purpose, not a reaction. Do I have it in me? It seems as if this rallying cry of mine comes around once in a blue moon (pun intended as there is a blue moon shining down on me as I type). Am I going to do it? Not right now at least. It's time to layer on the sequins and heels and mascara. It'll happen. The question is, will it happen because things must happen or will it happen because I made things happen?

In Memoriam

Kitty (aka The White One aka El Chiquiado) has gone onto cat heaven it seems. Almost two weeks and no sign of him. In my experience living in Boyle Heights, if a pet disappears for more than a few days, this usually means it bit the dust or it found a home that feeds it better. Either way, our cat is gone. It's sad a little. He was playful and silly while his brother (aka The Fat One) is more stand-offish and rude. For reasons I think we may never understand, Kitty provided a certain comfort. All he did was lay around (ah, the life of a cat) and beg for food. But somehow, seeing him everyday, doing his cat thing, everything seemed right in the world.

So wherever you are Kitty, here's to you.....may you rest (or live in a nicer neighborhood) in peace.

A typical Sunday morning in Boyle Heights

Woke up this morning. Had coffee and tamales for breakfast. Just a chill morning. Watching the games. Went outside to check out the neighborhood. And lo and behold, chickens kicking it on the street. Nothing unusual. Just another typical Sunday morning in Boyle Heights.

Le Sigh

He saw beauty where I never thought it existed. Made me smile while I looked at spreadsheets and reports. Gave me a high that was unlike anything I've felt before. He gave me a taste of ecstasy. And in a flash, it was gone. No need to shed tears. No restless nights. No pathetic "Why? Why? Why did this happen to me?" Just simply a sigh and a memory. That's all. That's all it ever could be. I see that now. I knew all along this had an expiration date. Now I'm on the other side. But how I hunger for that moment of sheer bliss when I was in his arms.

Oh well....on to the next....

RIP: Us March 20, 2004 -- October 5, 2009

"I hate you." That's how 5 ½ years ended. A horrible, unjust end to a painful but unforgettable relationship that was, at times, filled with love.

This blog isn’t about Boyle Heights. It’s about me. And about him. And about a relationship that ended. I just couldn’t let 5 ½ years go without…..writing something, saying something…..I don’t know what. I just needed to do something. As a step towards healing.

I was devoted to him. Our love and desperate need for each other took us from Pasadena to New York to Miami to Jamaica to San Diego to Rosarito and finally….to Boyle Heights. So I guess in a way this is about Boyle Heights. After 5 ½ years, I found myself home again. It’s fitting. Now I can start anew.

I was devoted to him. Loved him like no other man in my life or woman in his life. He was to be my life partner. And as I think about that dream of my future with him, now shattered, I am saddened and my heart breaks again.

I was devoted to him. It wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough. I gave everything, was left with nothing, became a shell of myself. My life was not my life but his life. But it wasn’t enough. And now I must accept that it’s over.

I was devoted to him. And for my devotion I received pain and lies and betrayal and broken promises. There were good times and laughter and joy and light and yes, even love. There was hope. The hope of a life together. The possibility that will never be is what hurts. More so than the what he did to me.

I was devoted to him. And now I must devote myself to me.

This is it. We were and now we’re not. “I love you” became “I hate you.” Whereas before I needed to hear “I love you” or die, I now realize I needed to hear “I hate you” to live.

LA Chick in NYC

I had a fling over Labor Day weekend. I was in New York. My good friend Yogita played hostess and tour guide. I walked shopped ate danced and site-see-ed. Exploring the city on my own was a great adventure to a home-body like me. And a much needed stress-reliver for the worry-wart in me. Taking in the rush and hub-bub of the streets, checking out the bars and restaurants and shops and cafes and store fronts of each block, exploring the neighborhoods and communities that make up the island, excited me and thrilled me in a way no other city has. Slowly, NYC started to seduce me like a handsome debonair southern gentleman who already has his hands full with women from all over the world but doesn't see the harm in adding one more notch to his belt. I was wined and dined by the high-end restaurants, street food, and weak drinks. I was caressed by the rich fabrics of all the clothes in SoHo. My heart beat faster and faster as I went in and out of the train stations and up and down the city. I became enamored with NYC with each passing second. Before I knew it, I was sprung. I felt like I was 16 again, uninhibited and daring. I began fantasizing about moving. Gasp! An LA chick moving to NYC? Blasphemous! The blood rushed through my veins and my head was spinning at the thought. Why not? There's so much to do and see and feel in NYC. "I can see myself living here," I kept thinking to myself. The thought exhilarated me like the thought of running away with sexy stranger to a destination unknown.

Then, standing in Central Park, on my last day in New York, as I looked up at the blue, sunny sky, I realized what I'm loving the most about New York, the aphrodisiac that is enticing me and making me crazy with desire, I already have in LA. While I stared at the white clouds and took in the sun's warm rays, I realized it was the bright sun and dreamy sky that I was high on, and in NYC, the bright sun and dreamy sky, like the Aurora Borealis, only shows its beautiful face once a year. No, it was fun while it lasted New York, but this chica has all she needs in warm, sunny, LA.

Sadly, I boarded the plane, but happily, I set foot in my home and found pleasure in being back with my true love, LA.

LA Summer

Driving up the 110. LA ahead of me in front of a mountain back drop. Sun to the right over SC. Black Eyed Peas on the radio. Windows down. Hot breeze blowing. Blue skies. I may be all alone in my car but this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Sure, other cities around the world may have something on LA, I’m big enough to admit it. But give me LA in the summer and I have all I need.

Beauty in my little barrio

Cherry blossoms in Boyle Heights. Just wanted to share something that made me happy as I stepped outside my home one morning.

The seasons of life in LA

Who says there aren’t any seasons in LA? I beg to differ. We do too have seasons, unique to LA. We may not have white winters and turning foliage, but what we have I sure do love. Just take a look:

Winter

Spring

Summer


Fall

It's a beautiful thing, no?