What I learned during the Blizzard of '11 Part 3

My mommy loves me…

The blizzard made my mom’s inner caring mom come out. I mean, not that she doesn’t care… but, not to this level.

She called me at 11 am on Tuesday to tell me she was going to be home early because her company was closing for the blizzard. “Where are you?” Where do you think, mom? “Oh, with your boyfriend? Are you going to stay there?” Probably. Why? “It’s going to be so gross out. Call me later, okay, just to tell me what you’re going to do”.

I never called her back. Because I fell asleep. And because I had a headache. My brother told me not to leave Ivan’s. And Ivan told me to stay. He works at the airport, so it was closed because of Snowpocalypse. It’s not like a had a choice. I stayed because everyone told me to stay. And because there was fucking THUNDER and LIGHTENING ... while it was SNOWING!!!

After my lecture about not eating for almost 24 hours, my mom called. With her cute little worried voice she was like “if you can stay longer, stay”. And Ivan agreed.

We were looking out the window, and it just looked horrible. The snow kept falling in buckets. And I was beginning to think that I was never going to make it home.

When I decided to leave, there were no more clouds in the sky. So it looked like it wasn’t going to snow anymore. I left, even though Ivan wanted me to wait. I called my mom - who was already thinking I was going to stay another night away from home. I’m on my way home. No more worrying. Okay?

It usually takes me about an hour and a half to get home. After the blizzard, it took me three hours. No kidding, my mom called me on average once every mile… Ivan and I live about 9 miles from each other.

When I got home, she babied me. She made me soup, and covered me with blankets. Brought me my Stitch doll and let me sleep on the couch. My mom’s not really affectionate like this. So when she does something along the lines of this… it’s a big deal.

I haven’t spend so much time away from home since I was in college in Wisconsin.

Right before I fell asleep, she said “I missed you so much, and wanted to go through the snow to get you”. Mom, you don’t have to baby me so much. “But you’re always going to be my baby, even when I’m 100, you’re still going to be my baby”.

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Scary Stories I

So it's October, and well, at the end of the month is the best holiday ever Halloween (also my friend Katie's birthday)! 

In the spirit of Halloween and all that is spooky, I decided I would share with you guys some scary stories: real, made up, semi-real. Also a very special scary story for this month's Bloggerstock, which you'll have to wait for patiently, or impatiently. Whichever you prefer.  

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My house is really haunted. People never believe me and I don't know why. The only person that ever believed me was my friend Rocio. And I think she only believed me because we decided that we should play the Quija board in my living room and ask the ghosts in my house what time it was. First things first, there are no clocks in my living room. And I have the worst internal clock ever. One time, I thought it was 5 am, turned out it was only 11 pm. We asked the board/spirits what time it was and it told us the time. We had to go to the kitchen to verify. 

The scariest thing that has ever happened to me was a not so long ago. I was having a hard time sleeping in my room. It was either too hot, or my bed just did not feel right. I thought that if I slept on the couch, I'd feel better. I grabbed my pillow and my blanket and headed to the living room. 

I fell asleep almost immediately. 

I began having this weird, very vivid dream that I was driving. Near my house is a long stretch boulevard that cuts through the entire city of Chicago. It's pretty neat because it cuts through most of the big parks. It's kind of cool too that it's the fastest way to get from one extreme of the city to the other. It's a very winding road. 

I was dreaming that I was driving Piggy's new car (at the time). For some odd reason, he let me drive without a license, and told me to be careful. I was driving on the boulevard and I saw a kid walking across the street. I assumed he was going to school or leaving school (on each side there is a school). I began to slow down as to not hit the kid. 

Apparently, instead of stepping on the brake, I stepped on the gas. I hit the poor kid with the car. I didn't know what to do so I just kept driving, but at each turn, I kept hitting the same kid. And at each turn, he kept getting bloodier. 

Some how or other, I managed to get off of the boulevard and onto the grid-like system streets that define the city. I was making it home when the kid was at the corner in front of my house ... 

I don't remember the rest of the dream. 

For some weird reason, I woke up in the middle of the night. I sleep facing down. I was slowly turning so that I could see the living room. And as soon as I opened my eyes, I saw the kid I kept hitting with the car in my dream sitting on the floor! Right next to the couch I was sleeping on! 

I quickly turned back around to face the wall and began telling myself that nothing was there. I didn't even think to look again. I was too scared. I had never felt that scared in my life.

In the morning, I told my mom. She looked at me as if I were crazy. She asked me if I had gone out drinking the night before, because sometimes I have weird dreams like that if I go to sleep drunk. I didn't. And then she told me that one time she was home alone, Piggy and I were at our dad's for the weekend and her husband was visiting his sister in North Carolina, when she saw something similar. 

She told me that she fell asleep in the living room while watching television. Out of nowhere, much like I did, she woke up. At first she didn't notice anything and she started to fall back asleep when she heard someone walking in the living room. She thought that it might be our landlords' cat walking upstairs in the attic, so she brushed it off. 

But then she heard giggling. And that scared her. She sat up on the couch and saw a little boy sitting in front of our television set with a bag over his head. Maybe it was the same kid, who knows. It's definetly scary being alone here sometimes. And even when you're not alone, scary things happen and other people who are here didn't hear or see anything. We moved into this house when I was about nine years old. And the scary hasn't stopped since. 

Day 4/30: Mom, Dad, Divorce

4) Something you have to forgive someone for.

I'm never ever really ready to forgive anyone for anything. I'd like to think that I don't hold grudges, but, I think my previous statement says otherwise.


The thing I've always had trouble accepting was the fact that my parents were divorced. I kind of always blamed my mom for it. For unfounded reasons. It wasn't her fault. It was more my dad's faults that caused their marriage to die. I chose not to see that side. I always felt that my life was "fucked up". It wasn't. Not even close to being "fucked up". For the longest time, we lived blocks away from my dad. We wouldn't even go home after school, we'd go to my dad's and we'd eat dinner with my grandmother. That's how close we lived to each other while we were kids. My parents tried to keep our lives as close to "normal" as possible. 


I don't remember when I started to blame my mom for this. I think maybe around the time that there were Father-Daughter dances in school, and I would have to say "oh, I can't go because my dad can't come".  I remember seeing all my friends leave early on those Friday afternoons to get ready for the dances, (which later, I learned were those Purity Ring thingies). I felt kind of left out. Not just because I wanted to leave early, or that I wanted a purity ring (because I mean, really?), but  I was one of 5 girls left in the classroom. Not to sound like a bitch or that I was better than the other girls, but unlike them, I actually *KNEW* who my dad was. 


Every birthday wish of mine was "I hope my parents get back together". Up until I was 18. I hoped that maybe one day, they'd realize what fucktards they married and would come to the realization that they were soul mates. And then, I could feel better. All that was in vain. But maybe in some parallel universe, they're still together, without all the shittiness. 


I would always tell my brother, Frank - or Piggy as I like to call him, how I wished our parents were still together. I was five when they got divorced. Frank was ten. He kind of understood the situation better. Even recently, I would say that our lives would be different if mom just "stuck it out"."Piggy, mom wouldn't have to work. She'd have everything." Even our grandmother says this.


But really, my mom's life would be miserable if she were still married to my dad. He was a heavy drinker (oh yeah, that Alferez Gene). He wasn't abusive towards us (Piggy, mom or me), but I would assume that's not the environment you'd want to raise your children in. If anything, I'm surprised she lasted the 12 years they were married.


I hate that it has taken me almost 20 years to understand that. And I feel guilty that I've made my mom feel bad for trying to give my brother and I a better life. I guess I was just selfish. And I wanted them to be together regardless of all the bad things (of what I know about, and what I don't know about). Now that I'm an "adult", my parents confide in me a little more. My dad brings up the topic alot more than my mom does. He always says the same thing, "it was better this way".


Maybe I'm the only one who feels that it wasn't. Regardless, I know both my mom and dad knew what was best for them and for us. I forgive them for "splitting up" our family, even though our lives were pretty much exactly the same. We just didn't live with my dad. I forgive them because they loved us enough to prevent us from experiencing anything more painful, sadder, hurtful, tragic.


Mamí, te perdono por todo. Sé que lo hiciste para nosotros y no por alguna razón egoísta. ♥


Thirty Days of Truth (1) Something you hate about yourself. (2)Something you love about yourself. (3) Something you have to forgive yourself for. (4) Something you have to forgive someone for. (5) Something you hope to do in your life. (6) Something you hope you never have to do. (7) Someone who has made your life worth living for. (8) Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit. (9) Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted. (10) Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know. (11) Something people seem to compliment you the most on. (12) Something you never get compliments on. (13) A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.) (14) A hero that has let you down. (letter) (15) Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it. (16) Someone or something you definitely could live without. (17) A book you’ve read that changed your views on something. (18) Your views on gay marriage. (19) What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics? (20)views on drugs and alcohol. (21) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do? (22) Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life. (23) Something you wish you had done in your life. (24) Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter) (25) The reason you believe you’re still alive today. (26) Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why? (27) What’s the best thing going for you right now? (28) What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do? (29) Something you hope to change about yourself. And why. (30) A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself .