In this week without my parents, I've heard from them a total of ZERO times.
When I'm on vacation, I get calls/emails from them about twice a day.
Irresponsible adults.
Anyway, I've been very nostalgic for Mexico this week. Knowing my folks are out there--not exactly in Hometown, but still, just being in the actual country-- makes me frown with envy.
I've never been in the country this late into the month of July (well, in the last ten years, to be correct)... and so, being here is so fucking foreign.
It's not helping that my neighbors have horses, cows, and chickens.
Last night, I was so nostalgic, I started to cry as I sat outside, watching Tyson eat.
The accumulation of three Hometown memories made me cry:
1. The humidity and slight warmth.
Last night the weather was... unusually pleasant for Vegas.
The weather in Hometown is BY FAR the thing I miss most. It's the most pleasant combination of warmth and humidity... it makes me consider moving to Hometown for life (then I hear of more decapitations and whatnot, and that thought quickly vanishes). Once I think of the weather, I think of the night sky in Hometown. That TOO is phenomenal in Hometown. Whether it's a clear night, where every single star in the sky is visible (and I end up laying in the bed of a truck, staring up at the stars... until the bats start getting a little more fearless and fly closer to me), or if it's a dark night with the most incredible lightning storms (I'll never forget last year's storm... I sat in complete darkness, staring out the door, enjoying the show. Moments like those help me appreciate being alive)... the Mexico sky is my favorite sky on Earth.
Every inch of my being misses it.
2. Food prep.
I thought of Hometown as I prepared Tyson's food.
Since the vet gave us some medication to help heal Tyson's paw, I have to sneak the three different pills in his food.
Jesus... if you only knew, Tyson... if you only knew!
This made me think of Hometown because back in the day Mom's Dad used to accuse Grandma of trying to poison him. This little "joke" of his would be a joke more often than not, but sometimes, he was so fucking serious. He'd make my grandma try the food off his plate-- and not try a single bite until she did-- on his really bad days.
War veterans... such a trip.
He'd inspect the dish and all that shit. He thought this would entertain us, and granted, it sure did the first couple of times... you know, when I was seven and I thought What are you doing, silly? You're not supposed to play with your food! But as I entered my teen years, it got tired and old, and it started to irritate me to think he would suspect my poor grandma of such a heinous crime.
Grandma: Trust me, if I were trying to kill you, I would have done it YEARS ago... and not as easily as slipping some poison in your food, asshole.
Esa grandma!! :) ... :(
3. Rooster singing (is that the correct term? I ask this every. single. time)
As I sat down, outside, to make sure Tyson finished his food, I heard my neighbor's rooster singing (cock-a-doodle-doo-ing?). Roosters ABOUND in Hometown. When I think of waking up in Hometown, two things come to mind: the smell of fresh tortillas and the sunshine gently sneaking into my room as roosters... do their thing.
Glorious, glorious memories.
These three things bunched together in one moment finally made me crack.
No, there was no sobbing involved... but I did sit there, quietly staring at the bright Vegas sky, desperately searching for stars... and a couple of tears streamed down my face.
It's just not the same.
My heart and soul definitely belong to Mexico.
On a funny note:
Honestly, who the hell still talks like this:
HAHA LOL LMAO LMFAO, I GOT HIT UP TODAY AT EASTERN AND BONANZA BY SOME SUPPOSLY CHOLOS JAJAJAJAJA, THEN THEIR LEADER SAW WAT WAS GOING ON, AT THE END, ALL THEM FOOS ENDED UP APOLOGIZING JAJAJAJA, LIL FOOS IF ONLY THEY KNEW AT THE BEGGININ' WHO THEY WAS FUCKIN' WITH ESE LMFAO, REAL SUREÑO RIGHT HERE ESE, BIG FUCKING CUATRO FLATS KNIGHT OWLS CLIKA HOLMES VEGAS CHAPTER ISLAS 13 CLICK!!!!
???
....
I have a college degree... in BIOLOGY.... why the FUCK do I still attract cholos?
When I'm on vacation, I get calls/emails from them about twice a day.
Irresponsible adults.
Anyway, I've been very nostalgic for Mexico this week. Knowing my folks are out there--not exactly in Hometown, but still, just being in the actual country-- makes me frown with envy.
I've never been in the country this late into the month of July (well, in the last ten years, to be correct)... and so, being here is so fucking foreign.
It's not helping that my neighbors have horses, cows, and chickens.
Last night, I was so nostalgic, I started to cry as I sat outside, watching Tyson eat.
The accumulation of three Hometown memories made me cry:
1. The humidity and slight warmth.
Last night the weather was... unusually pleasant for Vegas.
The weather in Hometown is BY FAR the thing I miss most. It's the most pleasant combination of warmth and humidity... it makes me consider moving to Hometown for life (then I hear of more decapitations and whatnot, and that thought quickly vanishes). Once I think of the weather, I think of the night sky in Hometown. That TOO is phenomenal in Hometown. Whether it's a clear night, where every single star in the sky is visible (and I end up laying in the bed of a truck, staring up at the stars... until the bats start getting a little more fearless and fly closer to me), or if it's a dark night with the most incredible lightning storms (I'll never forget last year's storm... I sat in complete darkness, staring out the door, enjoying the show. Moments like those help me appreciate being alive)... the Mexico sky is my favorite sky on Earth.
Every inch of my being misses it.
2. Food prep.
I thought of Hometown as I prepared Tyson's food.
Since the vet gave us some medication to help heal Tyson's paw, I have to sneak the three different pills in his food.
Jesus... if you only knew, Tyson... if you only knew!
This made me think of Hometown because back in the day Mom's Dad used to accuse Grandma of trying to poison him. This little "joke" of his would be a joke more often than not, but sometimes, he was so fucking serious. He'd make my grandma try the food off his plate-- and not try a single bite until she did-- on his really bad days.
War veterans... such a trip.
He'd inspect the dish and all that shit. He thought this would entertain us, and granted, it sure did the first couple of times... you know, when I was seven and I thought What are you doing, silly? You're not supposed to play with your food! But as I entered my teen years, it got tired and old, and it started to irritate me to think he would suspect my poor grandma of such a heinous crime.
Grandma: Trust me, if I were trying to kill you, I would have done it YEARS ago... and not as easily as slipping some poison in your food, asshole.
Esa grandma!! :) ... :(
3. Rooster singing (is that the correct term? I ask this every. single. time)
As I sat down, outside, to make sure Tyson finished his food, I heard my neighbor's rooster singing (cock-a-doodle-doo-ing?). Roosters ABOUND in Hometown. When I think of waking up in Hometown, two things come to mind: the smell of fresh tortillas and the sunshine gently sneaking into my room as roosters... do their thing.
Glorious, glorious memories.
These three things bunched together in one moment finally made me crack.
No, there was no sobbing involved... but I did sit there, quietly staring at the bright Vegas sky, desperately searching for stars... and a couple of tears streamed down my face.
It's just not the same.
My heart and soul definitely belong to Mexico.
On a funny note:
Honestly, who the hell still talks like this:
HAHA LOL LMAO LMFAO, I GOT HIT UP TODAY AT EASTERN AND BONANZA BY SOME SUPPOSLY CHOLOS JAJAJAJAJA, THEN THEIR LEADER SAW WAT WAS GOING ON, AT THE END, ALL THEM FOOS ENDED UP APOLOGIZING JAJAJAJA, LIL FOOS IF ONLY THEY KNEW AT THE BEGGININ' WHO THEY WAS FUCKIN' WITH ESE LMFAO, REAL SUREÑO RIGHT HERE ESE, BIG FUCKING CUATRO FLATS KNIGHT OWLS CLIKA HOLMES VEGAS CHAPTER ISLAS 13 CLICK!!!!
???
....
I have a college degree... in BIOLOGY.... why the FUCK do I still attract cholos?
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