to me, coming from you, friend is a 4-letter word…

(clock that reference?)

I think maybe I don’t understand what it means to be a friend. You see, Reader, no one ever told me what friendship was about. I remember being a little bear and hearing my parents say to me, “never have close friends. Letting someone in is giving them the ammunition to shoot you down later.” So I learned early on that revealing your true self, especially any level of vulnerabilities, was simply put: wrong. I learned that to trust another person besides your family or spouse, was to ask to be betrayed; literally akin to sending betrayal a formal invitation. I was also raised to believe that emotional attachment to friends was for the weak. I was taught this at an early age but, more importantly, I believed it. I felt it to my core; and combined with some less that favorable experiences – it became a core element of my belief system as I reached the age of young adult.

...End is the only part the word that I heard…”

Now, as an adult, I find myself struggling to release that belief which has now been so ingrained in my heart and soul; so much so that I catch myself subconsciously setting up emotional and mental safeguards from my friends. If I think we have been friends for too long and an expiration date is impending, I begin pushing people away; before they leave me. I don’t know how to express emotional care for others; so I give them gifts or do things for them because verbal emotional expressions are a weakness that can be used against you. Sounds crazy, huh? Except it isn’t. Think about all the different ways you protect yourself from hurt. Think about all the ways you approach others for approval and emotional connection. It may be similar thoughts and actions, or vastly different; But we all have our thing. I’m just the asshole out here blogging about it.

As much as I am aware of my behavior, I am also often validated in my beliefs. Of course, you’re thinking, ‘you choose to consider certain experiences as validation!’ You are correct! But don’t we all? For example, I had a friend who I thought I connected with on a level deep enough to consider him my brother from another mother. And then one day, he ghosted me. I couldn’t even tell you the exact day because my dumb ass spent weeks texting and calling him thinking there was something wrong or there had been a misunderstanding. And the worst part? I didn’t think he would be the type of person to do such a thing. Which led me to believe if he was capable of ghosting me, then so are any of you.

Then there’s the gay part of it all…

Another terrifying aspect of friendship is the gayness of it all. If you are (like myself) LGBTQIA+ this means that you have at least once been accused of being in love with your friend simply because of your sexual orientation. I came out of the closet at a young age, long before you kids thought it was cool or acceptable, and besides the many black eyes and name-calling experiences, there was an even more painful element; people using your sexual orientation against you. I could never understand why my sexual orientation meant I wanted to sleep with everyone I knew – but many made that assumption.

the N word (no, not that one)…


That’s right, nipples. For some reason they are vulgar if we are discussing nipples on breasts (versus pecs). You know, the nipples that provide many babies (something we all were at the beginning of our lives) sustenance, nutrients, and nourishment. The things that help get us through that first year of our lives – are TABOO. Inappropriate. Vulgar. Distasteful.

Men can walk around with their nipples out but we can’t even acknowledge that women have nipples; And if we have them out we can get arrested! What kind of patriarchy hypocritical bullshit is that??

Well, today, I will be talking to you about my nipples. (Sorry not sorry.) But part of embarking on this journey into motherhood includes a lot of situations involving my nipples. More than I expected…

Ever since I had Peanut my nipples have a life of their own with lots of changes, stresses, and adventures. No one ever told me about the sweat and tears involved in caring for your nipples postpartum. At first there was no problem; as my body failed to realize that Peanut was out into the world and it was time to make nature’s horchata (breast milk). But once we began production it was full steam ahead – comfort be damned!

Let me tell you what happens to a Lady when she is a full 24/7 nature’s horchata factory: your nipples fill up, the swell, they hurt, they itch, the skin gets dry, they feel like they could explode at any minute, they look lumpy, you can get a blocked duct which creates a whole new list of problems – including possible infection, they LEAK – like A LOT. And then when your baby decides she no longer wants to latch and breast feed, you are left with used, confused, and abused nipples; with all these problems because there is no OFF switch to the horchata factory. You can’t just shut down production because the boss decides there’s no more demand. So what do you do?

Well, most of the mommy blogs and doctors tell you to ice your breasts. That will eventually stop production of breast milk. Then there are all these wacky “natural alternatives” all over the internet. Rub your breasts with cabbage, sage, random oils, etc. Reader, I’m not going to lie to you, I am not going to try any of that nonsense. Now, if you do, please message me and share the end results! But I just don’t have the energy, desire, or faith that anything outside of ice and time will work. With that being said, I have been icing for a week now and am still struggling with engorged painful nipples. And I don’t mind most of it. Even the pain. But the leaking. The fucking leaking. It gets EVERYWHERE. I hate it.

The point being, I WANT MY NIPPLES BACK! Without the leaking and the hurting and the bumpiness. So pray with me this will end soon. It is a literal nagging pain on my chest that exhausts and annoys me to the point of anxiety/panic attacks. So if you are going through this too, you are not alone. I feel your pain. Literally.

a letter to my daughter on our first mother’s day.

Dear Peanut,

Where to begin? I guess… in the beginning… When I was a little girl, all the other little girls wanted to play barbie and ken dolls together. I never did. On the rare occasion that I played the game of the domestic life, all I wanted was babies and puppies. I never knew what I wanted to be, or even who I wanted to be, I just knew one thing for sure – I knew I wanted you.

I’m not going to lie to you – Life has been more cruel than kind. And love… Love has always been a four-letter-word in my life. It has more often than not been used as a weapon. To tell me what I don’t have. To tell me what I am not worthy of. To tell me what I will never have. Love always seemed like a secret language that everyone around me knew how to speak, but I was not worthy of learning.

Even so, I set out to find love. I thought the love of my life would some how show up in the form of a significant other. With each new relationship I filled my heart with hope; and was crushed with each heart break. I began to believe I could never find love. I began to believe I would never be able to have a family; to have you.

After a lot of self-reflection, a lot of soul searching, I set out to make you. I was determined; working harder than ever to figure out what I needed to do. I spent half a decade trying to make you. Trial and error, pain and persistence, blood sweat and tears, resistance and resignation, hope and heartache. Everything in me was tested; my mind, my heart, my body, my soul. And it took every part of me to get to you.

And yes, life has been more cruel than kind… but somewhere in between are these extraordinarily amazing moments that somehow make all the cruel things disappear. And having you has already given me more of these extraordinary moments than I’ve ever had in my entire life. Having you has made me forget so many of the cruel and hurtful moments that I hung onto so deep in my heart for so long. Having you has made me a better person.

I don’t think I am special. I don’t think I deserve or am better than anyone else. I’m not the smartest or strongest. I have been a hero, but I have sure as hell also been a villain. I don’t pretend to know everything. And I don’t know what challenges lie ahead of us. Truth be told, I don’t know that I’m going to be good at this.

But what I do know is You are the best parts of me. And from the very first moment I saw you, I knew it was all worth it. I knew you were worth it. The very first time I held you in my arms, I knew you were the one I had been waiting for my whole life. And the very first thing I said to you was, “what took you so long to get here?” And, “I love you more than I even knew was possible.”

So today on our first mother’s day together I am writing you this letter to tell you that I promise you I will always try my best. I promise you I will always love you. I will always be someone who will be there for you; who will try to catch you when you fall; and help you get back up. I will laugh with you, celebrate with you, and cry with you. I will always fight for you. I mean, after all I have been fighting for you long before you were even born. You are special, you are a miracle, and you are wanted – you have been wanted for decades before you were ever a little peanut in my belly.

I never understood people and their grandiose life dreams. Because I didn’t have the same ones I heard people proclaim. Some people dreamed of a husband or wife, of a farm, or of being a doctor; I dreamed of you. You are my dream – my dream come true. So thank you for giving me the best mother’s day gift I could ever ask for – the gift of being your mom.

I love you with all of my heart and soul,

Your Mother.

sometimes you just have to stop traffic…


I am not the type of person that would ever throw red paint on a fur coat. That’s not me. That’s not how I get down. And not only do I eat meat, I LOVE meat. My motto about food still stands: it is not a real meal if meat is not involved. So before I tell what happened today, I am prefacing it with this because I already know what you are going to say: what a hypocrite! Look, I don’t claim to be some hippy animal rights activist. And I actually think duck on pizza is delicious. I am self aware enough to know I am a hypocrite, but I also know you are one too. We all are. It would be short sighted to say with absolute certainty there is nothing you are a hypocrite about! I know we shouldn’t make generalizations but I am willing to bet there isn’t a single person out there who isn’t a hypocrite about something. Now, whether it’s something big or small is a whole other conversation. My point is that I know I am a hypocrite, so read about my hypocrisy knowing that I am aware of it, and I accept it.

Today I stopped traffic on an extremely busy street. There were angry drivers for sure. I would estimate about 15 cars. On a hectic crazy street right before the freeway entrance. But I had to. There were BABY DUCKS in the middle of one of the lanes trying to get to their momma!

So I did what I hope any animal loving person would do, I turned on my safety/hazard lights, came to a crawling slow speed, and waited for the baby ducks to get to their momma. But then, after I drove past them, I began to panic that maybe they got back on the road. Naturally, I made the next U-turn and returned to the scene of the duck drama to ensure their safety. While on my way back to them, I began to tear up thinking they were dead in the road. It took two circles around the area to get visual verification that the ducks had crossed the road and were in fact back in the safety of their momma’s wings.

Why? You ask? Because that’s the least I can do! I live in an area where there are patches of environmentally protected land. Patches. This was all theirs, and all we left them with a few patches that are disrupted by our businesses, houses, traffic, and all the fuckery! So it was the least I could do. Also, not the first time I’ve stopped traffic for a duck. Am I crazy? I guess maybe. But what makes us any better? Why does their safety matter less?

puras pendejadas…

Puras pendejadas. A phrase I never thought I would be using so often. Even my shit job didn’t call for my motherland tongue profanity.

The thing that surprises me the most about people is how predictable they are. I truly wish I would be proven wrong, but as a careful spectator of the sport of human interaction and nature, people prove to be painfully predictable even during unpredictable times. So my new response to people when they come at me out of pocket? Puras pendejadas. That’s all I have to give anymore.

The truth is, Reader, I’m tired. I’m sure you are too. But that is why I haven’t posted anything lately. I refuse to put more negativity out into the world so I don’t want to talk about politics and pandemics. I want to give you a distraction from those things. I want to give you a reason to smile, to laugh, to momentarily forget all the bad things in your life. But I cannot do that when my brain is soaking in the noise; drowning in the pendejadas, if you will.

Praise Peanut for providing a presence of purity and putting my place at peace. That peace in my heart, even for a moment, is what I want to give you when you are here with me. So I’m sorry I haven’t written, Reader. But I’m here now. So let’s talk fluff and fluffy!

What to watch: Okay, so, don’t hate me but I’m still on my CBS All Access kick and am catching up on The Good Fight. This is the web only series exclusive spin off from the hit show The Good Wife. This spin off stars Christine Baranski and starts off at an epic moment in history – the 2016 Presidential Election. It follows the professional life if a senior partner, lawyer Diane Lockhart. You may be saying, ‘I don’t like lawyer shows,’ but give it a shot. It is clever and fast paced packed with fully formed characters whose personalities and banter provide witty entertainment.

Tech specs: there was so much hype around the video game Animal Crossing: New Horizons so I gave in and purchased it. I haven’t gotten very far into the game but thus far I am unclear as to what the hype is about? Perhaps as I get further into the weeds I will see the appeal, but so far in the beginning processes, I’m growing a bit bored. Thoughts? Suggestions?

Doggy pics: have been replaced this week with GOAT PICS!! Every year goats are brought into my neighborhood to cut down the grass in the environmentally protected areas and I have been taking Peanut to see them.