I Carried a Watermelon Pt 2
We finally pulled over off the highway by the beach. “This is it. This is where Yemoja wants us. The tide is still too high though. We will sit and wait for it to get lower.” We sat in silence and watched the waves crash back and forth rhythmically against the rocks. After 20 minutes, […]
I Carried a Watermelon
Claudia looked me straight in the eyes before clinking her glass against mine, “Cheers, hoe! I’m so proud of you! But you have to go see Mirella! Promise me you’ll call her. You need protection, don’t be stupid.” For weeks, she’d been bugging me to give her curandera a call before I left the country. […]
It’s mine, I bought it
Growing up, I found myself digging through my mother’s jewelry boxes on multiple occasions. I have photos of myself as a toddler wrapped in her necklaces and playing with her rings, pretending, imagining myself as a grown up version of her. I even once, dropped a very beautiful ring down the toilet and she got […]
Tampons? Thank u, next.
For starters, I had been contemplating getting a diva cup for over 6 months. I read the blogs and testimonials and watched the youtube videos. I even reached out to my close girlfriends and surprisingly found out that not many of them had tried it yet or they didn’t show much interest in it at […]
Go Read Your Crystal Bible, Ya Basic Bitch
Fair warning, this post may make me sound like a basic bitch, but please read on with an open mind. I own a crystal bible. I keep a dish of stones and crystals on my bedside table, yes, sitting next to my pink Himalayan salt lamp which I turn on every night. I also have […]
Berrinchuda in Big Bear
One thing I’ve learned after spending a week in Big Bear with three kids all under the age of 6 is that I don’t know shit about what it takes to be a mother. I thought that because I was raised by a single working mother of four, I understood and knew the struggles of […]
Negrita Cucurumbé
My abuelito was a world traveler. Before diabetes. Before the doctors amputated his leg. Before his heart attack. Mi abuelito was a photographer, a journalist, a businessman, un viajero. Every few years my abue would take his nietos to Mexico. My turn finally came the fall of ’96, the year before he passed away. I was […]