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Veterans Day Salute

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Veterans Day Salute


I’ve never even considered enlisting, not because I don’t think it’s noble, nor because I don’t feel that this country is worth fighting for, it’s simply that I have a deep distaste for the abuse of power.

Today though, and not just today, but in general, I would like to thank all the young men and women who have served over the years. I cannot imagine what it would feel like to give purge comforts of your home to put your life in harms way on a daily basis. This was the case in World War II and in Vietnam, back when being a soldier meant nothing or was looked down on by us civilians.

Now that’s something that must even be worse than war, coming home to no job, to being judged by others who in many cases haven’t ever even left their neighborhood and cannot imagine what you’ve experienced. Having the pressure of acting “normal” when your life has been anything but. I’m glad the service people of today have some resources to help them acclimate back to civilian life, but we have so far to go. Veterans’ services are still lacking, and I love this post about 7 things that would help Veterans more than a holiday , you should check it out, because as I heard someone say, if there was still a draft system in the US, people would be in an uproar over the lack of services Veterans receive, and I whole heartedly believe that.

So, thank you to everyone who has ever served, including my husband who as you can see was like many, just a kid, and let’s make some noise throughout the year because these kids deserve better!


This is nuts!

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I’ve put off my post today, all day, because I’ve got nuthin’, and it’s only the 1st week?? This is nuts!


#WordlessWednesday / #MiercolesMudo

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#WordlessWednesday / #MiercolesMudo



Why the half-life of a Pinterest pin is thousands of times longer than a tweet or Facebook post

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Businesses & blogger, just in case you were wondering whether or not you should use Pinterest…

11 years of… LIFE!!

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Tomorrow, my husband and I celebrate 11 years together.  A milestone that frankly I never thought I would see.  I grew up in a household of domestic hell and as soon as I learned what a divorce was I wished that my parents would divorce everyday.  I know I voiced my opinion to my mother aloud more than once.  From watching my parents, there was nothing about marriage that made me want to participate in that type of hell.  

My plan? To be single forever!!  I had no plants, no pets, I was always on the move, I traveled, I worked every hour of the day.  There was no one that I wanted to be with and no one that was going to change my mind.  

Then… I thought I fell in love.  It wasn’t. It was a joke, and I was the butt of that joke.  After guarding myself for so long, I had my heart broken, but as I believe, and I have been shown again and again, life prepares us for the next phase, and when I was literally swept of my feet (really, it’s hokey I know, but it did happen) I was ready.

Life, love, marriage is what you make of it. There are ups and downs. As much as I love my husband, sometimes I cannot stand him.  And I’m sure that he has moments where he feels the same way.  We have enjoyed traveling together, have fought, have cried, have laughed our asses off, have two kids and some days just want to say “fuck it!”, but at the end of the day, we have shared 11 years together. The good, the bad and the ugly.  We sit comfortably together in silence, we share frustrations, aspirations and tequila.  

Is it perfect?  HELL NO!  But then again nothing in nature is. So I accept and love him as he is.  Passionate, good -hearted, an idealist, an excellent father, a beautiful soul, my pain in the butt, a person that challenges me, that loves me, that drives me crazy and with whom I share my life and soul.

So, 11 years later, we joke about the fact that it feels like a lifetime. We shudder in amazement that we haven’t killed each other, and I thank God for him every day.


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I was recently speaking to a lovely, smart, high raking executive, who’s also a latina, mom, and an immigrant.  She was telling me that due to her particular circumstances her family’s expectations of her were for her to be an unwed, teenage mom.  

For some reason that really struck home.  It was something that I’ve never thought of, that I’ve never reflected back on and yet, WOW…  

Let’s start off with the fact that my parents really have no idea what it is that I do professionally.  My mom knows that I’m smart and wonderful and all of those fabulous adjectives created to be generally supportive.  My dad is happy that I married a good man and that I have a good life and whether or not I actually “do” anything is neither here nor there.  My best guess is that this blissful ignorance is cultural.  

Growing up, I had my own views on things, and one of them was image.  I often told my mom “who cares what I look like now?!  I’m in school, I’m a teen, now is the time to take advantage of my freedom” and I did.  


Then I found myself on a wonderful journey of life, and learning that had nothing to do with a traditional education, but again to my family my path has always been misunderstood.  To the point that I wonder if I’m crazy, or if they’re not listening.  What’s even more hilarious, frustrating, ironic is that they gave me the foundation for my career.  When I was born my father already owned his own business, so I was typing and taking messages at a VERY early age to the point of being able to run an office by 14.  Yet at one point in my life my father suggested that I was a secretary, which left me a little stunned as I looked at him and said, “Papi, I HAVE a secretary”.  

I gave up on trying to explain to my parents what it is that I do eons ago.  They see that I’m happy (and in my dad’s case he sees that I’m married and happy) and this makes them happy, y ya.  Until I told them about going to the White House with the LATISM Top Bloguera retreat.  


Yes, they were excited, but what struck me was the phone call I received from my mom after sharing pictures with her, “mija, es que para mi ir a la Casa Blanca y a l a luna es lo mismo“, in other words, going to the White House is as attainable as a trip to the moon.  Which I appreciate.  It is a pretty big deal, depending on what circle you’re in.  For me it was an honor, one for which I am very grateful for, and  but it’s a little overshadowed by my wondering, is it that my parents had no expectations from me or that the world is so amazing that they did not want to achicar las posibilidades (limit my possibilities)?

Either way, I tell you what… it’s given me the desire to aim for the moon!! #SiSePuede #YesYouCan


Y padres (parents) let’s give our little ones something to aim for.  Perhaps giving them concrete ideas (astronaut, doctor, inventor, teacher, mother, race car driver, all of the above) and positive role models (within the community, not just on TV).  Let’s have our little ones shoot for the moon!  Even if they miss they will land among the stars. 

There’s no hospitality in hospitals

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I don’t get headaches. I’m 42 years old and thankfully I’ve never suffered of headaches. Yes, I’ve gotten a couple of sinus headaches, but otherwise nothing, nada, zilch. Usually I don’t blog about health topics, but the reality is that gratefully, I have nothing to talk about. Until now… *queue suspenseful music*

The other day I was running around, as usual, and I started getting a headache. Which on its own stands out because I don’t get headaches. An hour passed. A couple of hours. I took a couple of ibuprofen’s and nothing. More time passed and his headache just got worse. It felt like there was a piano sitting on my head. It was horrible. Nothing I did helped, it just got worse. Now it’s midnight. I’m dead tired. Its been hours and I’m feeling nauseous. I can’t sleep. I can’t work. All I can do is sit in pain and hope my head did not explode.

So, I sought out help. I went to the emergency room as most doctors will tell you is proper protocol when you have “the worst headache of your life” which I did.  Even with the ridiculously high threshold for pain that I have, the pain was so severe I was nauseous.  I’ll skip to the part where yes, it was a migraine, my first one and it was fierce!!  This evil thing wanted its presence to be known and was not going to be ignored… I on the other hand was.

I sauntered in with my PPO to an empty emergency room and thought great! I will be seen quickly! I was triaged within moments and promptly placed in a room and in a lovely hospital gown.  The nurse asked me a couple of questions and told me that the doctor would be in momentarily.  Meanwhile I continued to work because distraction was the only thing keeping me sane, and I was keeping my husband updated via text.  And I sat there in my gown, relived that I was going to receive help.

Ah, but what I didn’t know was that Northwest Community Hospital did not read from the same protocol book that I, and many doctors did.  Apparently the course of action for someone that comes into this hospital with the worst headache of their life is to stick them in a room, and leave them there to rot indefinitely.

After sitting in the room for an hour and fifteen minutes and literally NO ONE coming in to see me, check on me, see if I was breathing, had passed out from an aneurysm or to even tell me that they were too busy laughing and gossiping to tend to me, I got dressed and walked out.  Thankfully my headache had subsided.  As this was my first experience with a migraine I don’t know if it’s because it was time for my headache to subside, or if it was the OUTRAGE of being put in a room and ignored.  I mean really.  IT’S THE WORST HEADACHE OF MY LIFE!

As I was leaving I told registration and the triage nurse that I was leaving because no one would see me, but I wanted to be sure that neither my insurance nor I would be charged, and that I wanted something in writing.  They offered me a “Refusal of Service” form, which I explained was not the case.  I was not refusing service, they were not offering me any service so I was leaving.  AT NO TIME did anyone ask me how I was, if my headache had corrected, if I wanted to see someone right away, nor did they even offer to rty to fin someone to see me.  Even now, as I’m typing this I am furious by the irresponsibility of this hospital.

What if I had died?  Or had a stroke?  What then?  And this was not because I am uninsured, I have a PPO!!! So why did I spend an hour in the room without any medical attention?  Apparntly I will never know.  After speaking to the Director of the Emergency Room the following day, I was told “all the right things”. every phrase you would want to hear after an experience like that, “so sorry”, “I can’t imagine what happened”, “I will investigate”, blah, blah, blah.  Meanwhile the patient advocate wasn’t really advocating for me at all.  Apparently she wasn’t interested in my being a patient there either, or I don’t know the meaning of advocate, because she was rude and couldn’t care less about my complaint.  I also called the state to file a complaint, but they didn’t care either.  It’s a wait time and they don’t get involved with that.  But here’s my question… if I (American, speak perfect English, well insured) was ignored and essentially denied service at an emergency room – albeit through omission – what happens to someone that is uninsured? Or that doesn’t speak English?  Who’s to say that if I have a real emergency they wouldn’t just let me die?


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