los caminos de la vida, no son como yo pensaba, no son como imaginaba, no son como yo creia.
always on cinco de mayo, i miss home. which is weird, cuz there is virtually nothing i miss about colorado. i mean, aside from friends & family. it’s just that on this day, this time of year & most of the summer, i miss the atmosphere.
i miss being immersed in people and things that are familiar. i miss the comfort of it, of being free from scrutiny. nobody asks me “what” i am there. nobody cares, even if they don’t know.
simple shit, really. the faintest hints of homesickness. which are just so hard to process accurately because i still don’t feel “at home” anywhere, ya know. i mean, boston — for all of it’s advantages and opportunities — is still cold and foreign. i don’t think i’ll ever fit in here, not all the way. and i’m ok with that, really. i’m not sure this is a place i want to assimilate into. especially since the accent is grating on my nerves, and i hate the redsox with a burning rage. (fuck you, fenway)
but anyway, cinco de mayo. at home, even though it degenerated over the years, cinco de mayo is so much fun. there’s a parade, various barbecues and drinkerings and celebrations in the lj city park. there’s my uncle cooking sopa & frijoles at grama becerra’s house & my daddy fixin’ up the lawn with a cooler of corona (which has morphed from the modelo which morphed from the michelob) on ice by the steps. and he would make chicarrones & fried potatoes for dinner, and we’d get tamales too. so freaking yummy. it’s so hard to get good food like that out here, so much grody stuff. then again, there is no thai or chinese at home, really. which i love…and the italian selections are “questionable” at best. so, trade off?
and sunshine. god i miss the sunshine so much. i’m so pale these days! it’s sickening. and when i go home, my uncles make fun of me. even the butt nugget is way darker than me now.
and like, you have all these drunks running around being just plain stupid on st. patrick’s day –and they get a fucking parade! — and nobody even knows what cinco de mayo is around here, anyway. it’s like, you’d think an are that was so gung-ho to ostracize the french post-9/11 would be fired up to join in a celebration all about defeating the french…but noooooo, they’d rather drink green beer and pass out in a puddle of their own vomit. te lo juro, that’s new england for you. today is just as important to american history as it is to mexican history, really. yet, it’s given so little acknowledgement it’s often confused with the mexican independence day (that’s sept. 16th, y’all). i mean, people here even know when boxing day is. but…whatever.
::sigh::
my only recourse is to rock the kick-ass sombrero celebrations tomorrow in style. and of course, i did bring in “holy mother of god!”-style spicy guacamole & salsa to job #1 today. just to spread the love & whatnot. even if they don’t really know what it’s for.
¡viva mexico! ¡feliz cinco de mayo!
also: take of your pants, y’all!
mine :
jack black is freaking 