About shoes and budgets

All of us have obsessions and sometimes this can take us to take very stupid decisions that we later regret. One of my obsession is shoes. I love shoes. I more than love, adore shoes, to the point where I wear shoes I'm not suppossed to use because then it is back who suffers the consequences of the strain. Today's post is not about shoes perse, but it includes a pair. A couple of days back I was roaming some stores with my husband because we were trying to keep our selves entertained until the time of the movie we were going to watch arrived. My husband, being the person he is immediately moved towards Game Stop to watch video games and electronics, me on the other hand decided to go to a women clothing store that was also close by. Once in the store I went straight to the shoe section and fixated my eyes on a beautiful pair of shoes that I of course loved, but found too expensive. My husband, being the person he is, offered to give them to me as a gift to which i said "no thanks" because using my common sense, the shoes were still too expensive, and that died there. The next day I had to run some errands so I went to Wal Mart. To my surprise i found the same pair of shoes, this time in the color I wanted them but for almost half the price they were in the other store the day before. This time of course, I succumbed to the obsession and bought them(this is not a redemption story people, I had to buy the shoes). My point here is that if I had spent the 30.00 dollars for the shoes in the first store only because I liked them, I would have found myself regretting my decision 24 hrs later when I had seen them at 16.00 dollars in Wal Mart. Given the worldwide economic situation, we can't let our obsessions control our budget. Always remember to shop first what you need and then, if there is money to spare, what you like. May my story be wise advice, and if you love shopping, well, keep doing it, but do it wisely.

On slumber parties and reputation

Today as I was making the line for the auto-bank service I was listening to the radio. Here in Puerto Rico there are a couple of very popular radio stations that are constantly at war with each other; which is funny because both their recording studios are in the same building and they belong to the same broadcasting company. Even their dj's were at some point work buddies.
But that's not the point. Their topic today was slumber parties. They were curious about what girls do at slumber parties. Of course their curiosity is sexually inclined, they wanted to know if girls do get crazy with each other when they make slumber parties or how they are known here in the island, "Pijama Parties".
It was both perplexing and shocking to listen to the female callers and how they revealed to the hosts exactly what they wanted to know, and that is how lying prone and promiscuous teenage girls are believed to be.Don't get me wrong, that is not my affirmation, is what you could understand by the statements given by the female callers in this radio segment. The funny thing about it is that the callers were now 20 something women who did this slumber parties when they were 12-14 years of age. It was not surprising how the male hosts were taunting the callers to see if they could get a couple of juicy details of some of the situations that these women initiated into when they were still minors. But now let's move to the why this post is important.
It has come to my attention that a couple of years back maybe the main enemy of a female's reputation was men, but now it looks like we have turned into our own enemies. We sell our own image like sexy seductresses that will do anything (sexually and morally speaking)not to get what we want but to be perceived as attractive by the men around us.

Isn't that the same as letting men, media and literature denigrate us and portray us as evil sluts? I think it is. They say that in order for others to respect you you have to respect yourself, I think that applies to the public side of it too. After all if we as women don't fight to protect ourselves, who the fu** is going to care?

No, I am not saying we should act and dress as nuns and deny that as women we are sexual beings just like males are, I'm just saying that there is a reason for some parts of some stories to be called "intimate details". But once again,I guess that the main problem here is that some people don't know what common sense is, or how to use it for that matter.

A stranger in my own skin and "glam gloves"

Sometimes I feel like a stranger in my own skin, I don't know if it is something that only happens to me or if it is something common, that others experience regularly. I live a simple life and I am happy with it. I am full speed ahead for my masters degree, I have a hard working and loving husband and three kitty cats that I adore. However today, when I was driving back home from running errands and doing some house related shopping, for a moment I felt completely lost, and add to that that here in PR people are so rude in the shopping malls; they push you and bump into you without at least a simple apology. But that is not the point, the point is that for a moment, I could not recognize myself, as if something was missing, as if I should be somewhere else. Creepy huh? I wonder if this happens to other people too? That feeling of being inadequate for the place you have chosen and the path you are walking. Or maybe it was just my sugar levels and the thirst. Hey, it could be, you never know.

Uhhh, in other topics worth discussing, today I saw the two most ridiculous house keeping instruments designed to target female buyers, the first one was disposable gloves called "glam gloves" they were pink and had flowers on them, so that you look prettier when you are doing dishes, yeah... cause that's what your main goal is when you have to remove filth from somewhere,look fabulous while doing it(drowning in sarcasm right now)

The second one was a pink and black iron, that way you can also feel glamorous while ironing because your iron matches your decoration, wow! How come I never thought of that before? That's what I need to be a happier less oppressed house wife, matching home appliances (officially drowned in sarcasm)

Don't get me wrong, I love pink and I have nothing against color matching, actually I believe it makes your home look more harmonious. What gets me is that they are trying to sell this to you as an object that will define the level of femininity that you posses. I mean, you should have seen the face of the lady with the "glam gloves", she looked so happy while removing dried melted cheese from those plates. Color matching does not make you a happier house wife and pink flowers in the plastic gloves do not make the job more glamorous, a 20 dollar bill every time I do the dishes, now that would make the job more interesting, but pink flowers, nah!.

Home sweet home, messy home.

I’m finally back home, and everything is where I left it. Yep, the same mess I left. Although now is a bigger mess because given the hurricane thing the friend I left cat sitting unplugged all the electronics and left them sitting in the living room furniture. And she lost the house key. So now I have a bigger mess than before. But I’m glad I am finally back to my place and that my kitties are ok, I was starting to get sick of the hotel room, I’m like my cats, I need room to stretch. So today I still have errands to run and I have to take care of my car, so no rest for the wicked. Not even today.

About hurricanes and conceited bratz.

So there’s a hurricane going on outside; yes folks, I live in Puerto Rico. And still I wish I could be outside running and dancing like a crazy person under the rain. But it looks like it’s going to get worse so I think I’ll just stay in and maybe watch some tv. As I am sitting here writing, there is a tv program called My Super Sweet Sixteen going on.

I’ve only seen pieces and bits but what I have seen has been enough to make my stomach revolt in disgust. How can there be parents who are stupid enough to spend so much money on the whims of such immature adolescent brats? The biatch got a Mercedez Benz valued in 40,000 dollars for her 16th birthday. What the fug is wrong with her parents? I bet that she can’t barely spell her name right and she will be out on the streets terrorizing pedestrians in a 40,000 dollar Mercedes. That’s just outrageously irrational and funny at the same time. I wonder if Daddy’s little princess would be able to survive on her own without her phone and credit cards for a week? It would be like taking the dope away from an addict. Now I don’t know about you, but I think that would be a great idea for a reality show, place these princesses in a real life situation that they would have to solve by themselves and let’s see how hilarity ensues.

Cruelty, bullying and suicide; 3 things we should never accept as natural

I have been skinny almost all my life, however different to what you might think, skinny does not mean pretty. I was never in style; I had bad teeth and a low self esteem. Intelligent, sure, accepted, maybe, popular; never. I used to hang out with the girls that I thought were my friends, what I never realized was that all they ever did was overlook me. They were always the pretty ones, I was their charity case.

I remember how much I always wanted to be like them. I never had my own style, I never had my own voice, I never had my own nothing, I was always looking up to have and to be like the girls I idolized cause when I looked at the mirror all I could see was someone I hated, someone I did not wanted to look like, someone I did not wanted to be. To that, I had to add the deformity of my hands when I reached 14, to which the doctor said, I just had more bone than skin. Throughout most of my teenage years, I was called a thousand names, among the most popular ones E.T. and Bugs Bunny. It was harsh not being seen for my grade point average or my talents, but by the flaws that I could not fix with a bit of makeup here and there.

People would like me to say that the only enemy I faced was myself, that I self sabotaged myself into having low self esteem and believing that I was ugly and inadequate, but reality is that was only part of the problem. The rest of the problem was encouraged by those around me who were cruel, their parents who encouraged their cruelty, my parents who accepted that kids are just kids and that middle school and high school are cruel places, my teachers who gave a rat’s ass about what happened in the hallways and I guess I can also blame the presidency or something else. But then I guess people would start saying that I want to blame the world for the evils of the world. And nobody wants that right?
We are so caught up into the conventions of the world that we forget to fight and support those who fight against what is unfair and psychologically unhealthy in the world. Maybe because it is easier to look the other way and think it will pass, that the kids will just grow up and forget all the scarring moments that made them cry for unnerving and never ending nights. That they will forge they were called names and they were insulted and bullied non-stop every day for years. I guess maybe because it is easier to do that than to take some action against the abuse your son or daughter might be facing. Because thinking that hard moments might make them stronger when the reality of the situation is that those moments only make it harder to get up in the morning every day and face the world. What better example of this than the statistics for teen suicides and yet, the world prefers to walk blind.

If we don’t engage into some real actions against this entire situation, only one thing will be for sure, the number of youngsters who will never see their dreams fulfilled will keep rising and also the number of grieving families. Why do we insist to ignore what is clearly spread before our eyes? Bullying, labeling, hazing and all the consequences this brings are not natural and they should not be a part of a child’s development. We should not encourage it and we should not ignore it either, we should take action,that is the only legitimate way to prove your children and those around you that you care and that you really love them.

Nunca me vere como ese maniqui/ I will never be that mannequin

****English version of the entry below the Spanish one. No special reason for the language order of the entries.****

Hace unos días, gracias a la bondad de una buena amiga, por fin pude visitar la tienda de ropa de la que todas mis amigas me habían hablado pero yo no había tenido la oportunidad de visitar. Al llegar a la tienda, parecía que había llegado al paraíso, ropa preciosa a precios aceptables para mi presupuesto además de piezas que no había visto en ninguna otra tienda de ropa en el área noroeste de la isla. En mi fascinación, mi amiga me siguió dando el tour por las distintas áreas de la tienda, en el transcurso de tour, mientras más nos adentrábamos mas mi fascinación iba desapareciendo por que comencé a fijarme en los displays de la ropa y en las proporciones de los maniquíes. Tengo que decir, que como latina, soy lo que se considera una flaca con curvas, ya que soy petite, busto pequeño y caderas anchas, y aun así, siendo realista, reconocí que no había manera que me sirvieran las piezas que exhibían maniquíes, ya que eran como si le hubieran puesto una capa de piel a un esqueleto anormalmente alto. Después de ver los displays y los maniquíes, yo, que peso 123 ¼ lbs, que soy 34, 26, 35, me sentí gorda e inadecuada. Fue cuando me puse a comentar con mi amiga que me di cuenta que había caído en la trampa de la mercadotecnia y de la industria de la moda, pues incluso mi amiga que si hubiera deseado pudiera haber sido modelo, me dijo lo mismo que me paso por la mente a mí, que los cuerpos de estos maniquíes estaban más lejos de la realidad que el cuerpo de Barbie, ya que aunque exageradas sus proporciones, al menos Barbie tiene curvas.

No podemos permitir que estos lugares dicten las pautas de imagen personal sobre lo que debe ser atractivo y lo que no lo es. Quedando me dentro de mi propio ejemplo, para yo poder verme como uno de esos maniquíes tendría que estar alrededor de las 100 libras, lo que con mi tipo de cuerpo y mi historial de salud significaría primero que nada un cuerpo en el que se me podrían apreciar todos y cada uno de mis huesos, caída de cabello, mareos, bajones de azúcar, reflujo gastro - esofágico crónico, calambres estomacales y bradicardia. Tomando eso en consideración soy lo suficientemente inteligente para decidir que estar enferma y débil jamás en la vida valdrá caber en un size small de Forever 21. Lo siento mucho, pero no lo vale.



A couple of days ago, thanks to a very good friend, I was finally able to visit a store that all my friends were talking about and I was dying to visit but up until that night never had the chance to see. Once I arrived to the store, it felt like I had arrived in paradise, beautiful clothes at acceptable prices for my budget plus they had clothes I had never seen in any other store in the western area of the island. In my fascination, my friend kept leading the tour around the store, the more my fascination started to dwindle because I started to fixate my attention in the displays and the body proportions of the mannequins. Now, I have to say that as a Latina I am what is considered “skinny with curves” because I am petite, small breasts and wide hips, and even with those proportions, being realistic I recognized there was no way any of those pieces in display would fit my body because it looked as if an abnormally tall skeleton with a thin layer of skin was playing dress up. After taking a close look to the displays and the mannequins, me, the girl who weights123 ¼ pounds, with measurements of 34,26,35 felt fat and inadequate. It was when I started to talk about it with my friend that I realized I had turned into another victim of the fashion industry, because even my friend, that if she wanted she could have been a model, told me the same thing that went through my mind; the bodies of these mannequins were even farther from reality than Barbie’s body. Even though Barbie’s body is very unreal, at least she has curves.

We cannot allow these places to define the canon of self image, what is attractive and what is not. Staying within the boundaries of my own example, in order for me to look like one of those mannequins I would have to weigh 100 pounds. Therefore, given my body type and my medical history that would mean having a body in which you could easily see each and every one of my bones, hair loss, dizziness, hypoglycemic episodes, erosive GERT, stomach cramps and bradycardia. Taking those factors into consideration I believe I am intelligent enough to know that all of these is not worth fitting into a size small dress from Forever 21. I’m sorry, but it is just not worth it.