Snapshot of us at the Austin airport before taking off!
I’m baaaaaaack!!! Please excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors, as I am way too excited to write this post!
We had an AMAZING time on our trip to Colombia!
Getting to Colombia was easy. We flew out of Austin, TX to Houston, TX. Then from Houston, TX to Bogota, Colombia. When we left Austin, the heat was unbearable so, naturally, we were wearing shorts and lightweight shirts. When we arrived at the airport in Bogota we were freezing! If you plan on going into Bogota during the US summer months, pack a sweater and jeans! Everyone at the terminal was prepared and wearing jeans, boots, and sweaters. We had to wait 4 hours in Bogota for our flight to Armenia, Colombia. Continue reading
Dear Donald Trump,
You have reminded me of how blessed and lucky I am.
My grandparents on my father’s side came to the United States after they applied to be residents and were accepted. This amazing country reviewed an application and granted them resident status. This country accepted my grandparents even though, according to you, they were most likely involved in drugs, crime, and rape. That didn’t seem to impact the decision to let them reside in this country. Continue reading
When I was 15, I told my dad I hated him. I told all my friends and peers at school I hated him. By the end of the month the whole town knew that I hated him.
See when you’re 15 and your dad tells you that you can’t have a boyfriend, can’t go to the movies with your friends, and takes your phone away at 9 PM when “free” minutes start…you can start to develop these types of feelings towards him.
We used to fight ALL THE TIME. I got into the habit of just being in a bad mood any time he was around. I never REALLY listened to anything he told me and realize now that in all those years that I was ignoring him, I could have learned so much from him.
He would wake my brother and I up really early during on our days off in the summer so that we could go and work for him. I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I “grew up”, but I swore at that age that I would never be anything like my father.
I used to sneak out and go to Mexico. I started going when I was 14 after I made friends with some upperclassmen. I would sneak through my window at first, as the years went on I stopped caring and started just going out the front door as quietly as I could. This was my system for a good year and a half. So far, so good. Continue reading
I met him in the middle of my 8th grade year. All my friends would talk about him. How amazing he was and how great he made them feel. He was the boy next door; an all-Mexican-American boy. The boy all our parents wanted us to end up with. I fell in love with him 4 years later. Country Music, my second love, my first TRUE love.
At the time, I was at my rebellious stage. I was into NOFX, the Misfits, Blink 182, and Motion City Soundtrack (to name a few). I would wear skinny jeans, Spitfire logo shirts, and DC’s. All my jewelry had some sort of spike on it. I was convinced my parents knew nothing and that they didn’t really care about me. At school, I would get made fun of or talked bad about. I was weird, I was a “slut” (fun fact: actually lost my V card in college), I was too smart, I wasn’t smart enough, I was too dark, I wasn’t dark enough, I was too “white”, I was too Mexican, and many many more things people didn’t like me for or didn’t give me the time of day because of. Continue reading