Church is the Tool for the Week

I'll admit, I haven't gone to church in about about two months. I didn't go because I felt like the people in church would never accept me. I had some serious self-esteem issues. It's true that you will NEVER find the perfect church. You will NEVER escape from the hypocrisy. Of course, I prayed before I went to bed, but I felt that it wasn't the same. I felt further from God. I told Him that I felt further and asked Him to show me how to be closer to Him. He said I needed to go back to church. It didn't matter what the people thought of me. I have a pastor who understands me and my family. My pastor is like an uncle to me. It's been that way since I was a child. He's seen me grow up to this teenage-looking adult you have today. Even through my punk rock phase, he's never rejected me and told me he loved me. Even when I dropped out of WOLBI, he's never ever held it against me. He prayed for me. I am so thankful to have a pastor like mine. But, most importantly, that God placed him in my life.

Today, I went back to church with a new heart. I don't go to church for the people. I go to church to learn about the Word. There will always be sin in the church, but there will never be anyone to stop me from going. We've got to be children of peace. How else will we do it when we're not on the Word? Gosh, it's only once a week that we get to hear someone preaching.

Then, through that time of my absence from church, it had me wondering why we blame our unfortunates on God. Whenever something bad happens, it's God's fault. Can we please grow up? Humans have the tendency to put the blame on someone else. I am at fault; sometimes, I blame my sister. But, if we blame everything on God, how can we love Him? So, church is an excuse because of the people? We've got to let go of this eye mask, and it isn't cucumbers, it's cement. We've got to break free from this thinking because it's selfish. You've got to like it, love it, need the Word. You've got it want it like babies crying for milk. It's not the people that display God, it's you reading His Word and having faith.

Sure, not everyone is going to like you in this world, but God will always love you no matter what. You can kill someone, and God will still love you and forgive you. No joke. If the Word says anything otherwise, please let me know. If not, then shut up because you're lying! God is everywhere and seeing everything we do. Don't put words in His mouth!

From all this, it swirls me to think about my time at WOLBI. Ever since I've quited, I grew a hatred towards them. I hated their theology and felt that they were a cult. Honestly, I still believe they are a cult, but I feel God telling me that I need to ask for forgiveness. The day I dropped out was one of the worst days of my life. God had me there for a reason, and I chose to do it my way. That's my pastor's catchphrase: I WANT IT MY WAY!!! Just as he sings it with his operatic voice. I can't hate them forever. Maybe God doesn't agree with some of their teachings, but He still loves them. I feel like calling Mrs. Garland or Mrs. Gray and ask for forgiveness for my actions. Today in church, I realized what the authority figure is. Though I felt WOLBI really exaggerated that idea, I realized that wherever we go, we need someone to tell us what to do in order to be knowledgable. I don't know if one day God will say that I need to go back and finish. If He does, He will tell in a humorous way, like He always does.

God is not stuffy; He's funny! He loves to see us smile! Church is a tool because without it, how will we structure our week? What will we reflect our week on? I love what the pastor said today: He said he went to a retreat in Upstate and a pastor there told him that he was thankful to not be a pastor in New York City. My pastor said he was thankful to be a pastor in New York City and not him. He said being a pastor here was a priveledge. How else will the people of NYC learn the truth without a pastor to start a church? Would we all turn Times Square into porn nation again?

You'll be seeing me in church more often. I really should start passing out tracts. I love God and I'm glad He showed me that I should go back. Don't blame your unfortunates on God. You will be blind and depressed forever.

In Christ alone, my hope is found. He is my light, my strength, my song. This cornerstone, this solid ground, burned by the fiercest drought and storm. What heights of love? What depths of peace? When fears are stilled, when strivings cease. My Comforter, my All in All. Jesus commands my destiny!

"For it is better to suffer for doing good, if that should be God's will, than for doing evil"- 1 Peter 3:17 (ESV)

Hispanic Meaning

Hispanic
It means
Someone of Latin origin

Not
Someone who eats cuchifritos

Hispanic
It means
Someone who comes from a Spanish-speaking country

Not
Someone who is ghetto loud

Hispanic
It means
Someone whose background has many colors

Not
Tan people exclusively

Hispanic
It means
Beautiful culture

Not
Discrimination out of ignorance

Why is it that Hispanics straight from their country accept me
More than Hispanic Americans?

Because they don’t know the true meaning of Hispanic.

Mountain Rose Herbs Recipe Contest

Cold cream has been around for thousands of years. All credit goes to Galen, the man who envisioned oil and water mixed together. It was a genius idea. Today, we have shamefully replaced the natural ingredients the people of the past just saw as part of everyday life with mineral oil and fragrance to keep costs down. I'll tell you what keep costs down: doing-it-yourself. What makes it even better is you know what you're using and you can be sure through whichever supplier you buy from, you will be guaranteed excellent quality and know where exactly your ingredients come from. That is the feeling I have with Mountain Rose Herbs. I trust them to deliver truly organic west coast love to my east coast love.

Here is my recipe for Sweet Orange Rose Cold Cream. The secret to this recipe is horsetail extract. Horsetail (Equisetum Arvense) is also known as Shavegrass. It is the only plant with the highest silica content. Silica is also known as cell food. It keeps your skin looking younger! Sweet orange is an anti-depressant, as well as rose. The combination of the two makes you feel like you're on a Caribbean getaway with roses in your hair. I'm from the Dominican Republic and the sweet orange essential oil Mountain Rose Herbs supplies comes from there. Now, they're really spreading the west coast love! So now, let me introduce to you my wonderful recipe that may satisfy your inner light.

Sweet Orange Rose Cold Cream

2 tablespoons beeswax, pastille or grated
1/4 cup rosewater
1/2 cup olive oil
1/2 teaspoon borax powder
1 teaspoon sweet orange essential oil
1/4 teaspoon horsetail extract

Combine beeswax and olive oil and place in a heatproof glass or ceramic container and place it in a pan of boiling water. Allow beeswax to melt and stir. Dissolve borax in rosewater and heat it in a pan or microwave. Do not let it boil. Once the olive oil and beeswax have combined, combine it with the hot rosewater/borax with a stick blender or hand mixer. Add sweet orange essential oil and stir. Then, add the horsetail extract and stir for the last time. Pour into a cute and clean glass or plastic container. The cold cream should be thick, but it will get thicker once it cools.

To use: Wet face. Scoop some cold cream and massage into the skin. This is a great opportunity to massage your face! Rinse well, then wipe with a tissue to remove excess. You will be left with glowing, moisturized, and healthy skin!

I really hope you enjoy this recipe as much as I did. Remember, never allow anything to come across with nature, because nature will always find you.

Peace, kisses, and amor.

My Gold Medal Prized Art Short Essay (lolz moment)

Okay, I wasn't serious when I said I was going to hang it up on my fridge. It's inside a drawer in the living room where I put all my school notes, exams, and quizzes. My art professor really did read it out loud and awarded me the "gold medal", although it was only a verbal medal. Here it is by request from my favorite cousin Gino and to others who want to read it. It is about a statue made by Antonio Canova called Cupid and Psyche.

Cupid and Psyche was love-at-first sight when I ventured through the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The position of Psyche’s arms reaching to Cupid is pure grace. It shows the femininity of women. When I saw it, it made me feel loved because Cupid is holding Psyche. I felt a feeling that it is only with love that you may forgive someone. It felt as if no matter what happens that Cupid was there for Psyche. Psyche looked like in a troubled state, but now is feeling rescued. I really liked the way the artist positions their bodies; Psyche laying down with her upper portion raised and Cupid on top in a bending down position. Usually it is women that gain control over men. Men have a supernatural feeling of always being indestructible. But, when he lays his heart on a woman, he becomes weak. In this model, it is the woman, mainly Psyche, reaching out to the man, Cupid. She wants his help and his kind heart is there for her. The artist sent me a message saying that both male and female may lay down their armor of superiority and rescue each other of any troubles. It surpasses feminism and macho. Antonio Canova has taught me a lesson on the equality of love.

Loves and kisses and lots of sweet pleasures...

Ignorant Asks and Says People Throw About the Bronx

It is sometimes intimidating when someone asks me if I live in the city. Like, what does that determine? That I have an education and well-off? Go to Pelham Parkway and Throggs Neck, sucker. Sometimes, I lie and say I live in Westchester; that really shuts them up. But, when I say I live in the Bronx, it's like you just opened a packet of instant oatmeal, I'm a criminal. I'm stupid, hopeless, and will forever live the stereotype. Here are the top asks and says people tell me out of transparent ignorance.

1. Q: Are there trees in the Bronx?
A: Yes, idiot, there are. I see them through my window, as well as Pelham Bay Park, the largest park in New York City. Sorry, Central Park doesn't cut it; it's dirty in my opinion. We also have the Bronx Zoo, which is also the largest zoo in New York City and the New York Botanical Garden, where there are trees, flowers, and preserved wildlife, not a toxic dumpsite disguised with a pretty name.

2. Say: I'm going to 86th Street. That's all the way in Uptown Manhattan.
A: No freaking duh. I totally know where 86th Street is, and 42nd Street, and Park Avenue, and Rector Street, and Maiden Lane, and all those streets your overrated island has. Even if you live in the "outer" boroughs, you have to know how to get through Manhattan. If you don't, you need to get out more. At least I get passed 96th Street.

3. Q: Have you seen anyone getting stabbed?
A: No, I've never seen anyone getting stabbed.

4. Q: Have you seen anyone getting raped?
A: No, I've never seen anyone getting raped.

5. Q: Have you ever been mugged?
A: No, I've never been mugged.

6. Q: Have you seen anyone getting killed?
A: Gosh, what is up with these violent questions? No, imbecile, I've never seen a violent action except for fist fighting in the Bronx! No one's robbed my purse, raped me, nor done anything to hurt me.

7. Say: Our local from New York said if we stay past 7:00pm, we would get robbed because we are white.
A: Are you freaking kidding me? What kind of people live in 187th Street and Arthur Avenue? Italians. What about Pelham Bay Park? Albanians, Greeks, and Jewish. Yes, there are still Jewish people here! Throggs Neck, Country Club, Silver Beach, Riverdale, and Pelham Bay Park have what the majority would call the "white" race. You will be fine, geez.

8. Q: Have you seen anyone getting arrested?
A: Yes, I have, and I've also seen it in Manhattan. You can't escape crime.

9. Say: There are more homeless people in the Bronx than Manhattan.
A: Wrong! Go to Union Square, SoHo, and anywhere in the downtown Manhattan area. There are many homeless people asking for food and money. In the Bronx? Not so much. We have shelters and city funded housing called the projects. You won't believe the difference.

And, the most ignorant question of all time...

10. Q: Is the Bronx dangerous?
A: It's not 1977 anymore. It's 2010. Get over it and come here.

Please come and take a visit. Edgar Allen Poe's house is here, as well as what was once the largest movie theatre in the world, along the lines of the street with the most wondrous buildings you'll ever see. This is the beautiful Bronx!

Marijuana is a Christian

Why should marijuana be legalized? Because God says so!


“Take the finest spices: of liquid myrrh 500 shekles, and of sweet-smelling cinnamon half as much, that is 250, and 250 of aromatic cane,”- Exodus 30:23

“Nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense, myrrh and aloes, with all chief spices-”- Song of Solomon 4:14

“You have not bought me sweet cane with money, or satisfied me with the fat of your sacrifices. But you have burdened me with your sins; you have wearied me with your iniquites.”- Isaiah 43:24

“What use to me is frankincense that comes from Sheba, or sweet cane from a distant land? Your burnt offerings are not acceptable, nor your sacrifices pleasing to me.”- Jeremiah 6:20

“And casks of wine from Uzal they exchanged for your wares; wrought iron, cassia, and calamus were bartered for your merchandise.”- Ezekiel 27:19


The Hebrew term “kaneh bosom” translates to “aromatic cane” and “sweet cane”, which gives the translation to the Greek word “cannabis”.

“Calamus” gets mistranslated many times because of translations. The term “kaneh” was then said “cannabbos”, which was taken to mean that it is an unidentifiable plant.


The holy anointing oil used in Exodus 30 had about 30 pounds of marijuana! Does the Bible talk about smoking it? It seems like it is mostly used for sacrificing. Even the three powerful prophets, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel reference marijuana. Christians should stop hiding the secrets of marijuana and pray to make it legal! If we all read and believe the same Bible, then there is nothing to hide.

I Heard Petroleum Baths Are Beneficial

We humans have allowed ourselves to depend on petroleum. It's everywhere, literally. We rub the stuff on our skin, we eat it, we breathe it. Yes, we breathe it! The petroleum distillates we breathe when we walk through a gas station. The lotion we rub on our skin after taking a shower. It's full of petrolatum (Vaseline), PEG, and mineral oil. the BHT and TBHQ the General Mills implanted into our food for "freshness". Yes, America, we have a significant petroleum dependence.

And from there led to the amazing chemical industry. You see, we are very very far from nature. Go tell anyone that by drinking clay, it will get rid of toxins in your body. That's right; they won't believe you. Doctors have administered petrochemicals into our bodies for over a hundred years. This new mindset of medicine is far from what the term "medicine" should define. Doctors are poisoning us every day with this "medicine". It has come to a point that we no longer value what God created and leave behind by what was once known as fact, now a myth, to the twenty-first century's humanistic eye.

When we watch the fabric softener commercials, oh the glory of watching that flawless lady run outside into the fresh open fields and holding that warm blanket. She smells it's lovely fragrance of pure and natural scent. She smells petroleum, ladies. Sorry, it's true. How? Well, there is absolutely nothing natural about those fabric softeners! The chemical companies display free flowing nature commercials about their products to get the idealism that it is natural in some way. When we smell that tube of sunscreen, doesn't that remind us of going to the beach? Beach is natural. Sunscreen, uh, no. It's got the same idea. Yes, we are zillions of miles away from nature.

The lotion advertises that it has aloe and oatmeal as its components to make your skin super soft. Why doesn't it claim that it's the mineral oil? Johnson and Johnson baby oil advertises that it makes your skin super soft. It never tells you why. Petrochemicals are constantly being rubbed into our bodies like it's a ritual. Propylene glycol is anti-freeze. Hello, do you want anti-freeze in your body? It's also in your toothpaste. Don't believe me? Check. Toluene is in nail polish, or I should say, once in American nail polish. Now that the American market finally realized that toluene is toxic, I wondered where they sent all the toxic nail polishes. Well, on my visit to Dominican Republic, in the beauty section at La Sirena, the Dominican Wal-Mart, every single nail polish had toluene and dibutyl phthalate, which is another highly toxic petrochemical that causes birth defects in baby boys. Did you know 95% of perfumes, including designer perfumes, contain petrochemicals? Please do more research on the toxicity of personal care at www.cosmeticsdatabase.com.

Wood varnishes, shoe polish, ink, chewing gum, corn, pantyhose, shampoo, yarn, and so many other products contain petroleum. A while ago, I wondered where plastic came from. I've been told they were synthetic, artificial, and nature can't reproduce it. So, where in the world does this item come from? I read an article about sugar fibers and its use to make plastic. It mentioned that our convential plastic was made of petroleum. I was like, "What? Yuck! How?" From there it planted a seed of knowledge. It slowly grew as I learned what petroleum makes. That now we have depended so much on this "wonder", it will slowly curve to the curiosity of what would happen if there were no more oil.

The funny thing is that people don't want to believe me when I say that petroleum makes everything. We are slowly running out of oil. The damage has been done. If mineral oil shrink wraps our skin, then it's the petrochemicals floating around in the air shrink wrapping it, thus causing global warming. The artificial coloring in our desserts, the color in hair dye, the styrofoam that comes in our package, should lead the American public to ask, "If it's synthetic, where does it come from?" It's common sense. Here is a website that covers partially what petroleum makes: http://www.ranken-energy.com/Products%20from%20Petroleum.htm

Will America ever decide to switch from styrofoam, to sugar based equivilants? Will American women realize they have been poisoning their bodies for many years? Will the government finally stop using petroleum and start looking into the mythological nature derivatives? To be honest, I hope that this will be a lesson. When the Earth runs out of petroleum, it may be the cause of World War III.

My Name is Not Natalia

Natalia is my twin sister. She is older than me by one minute. No, she was not born first because we wrestled and she won, like what ignorant people say. She had an emergency and almost died. So, that's why I'm second.

Something has been bothering me as to why my family does this. For some reason, they always call me Natalia, ALWAYS!!!! Okay, so why am I whining? Because I am an individual, not one person, like what ignorant people say.

Then, you would say, "So stop whining. They're your family and they're trying to be funny."

I would say, "Oh man, you do not want to be in my shoes."

Even when sister isn't around, they call me Natalia. Like, I was on a recent trip to Dominican Republic and my uncle accompanied us. The man could NEVER pronounce my name and said Tatonia. He even called me Natalia. Oh my fuzzles, I was so annoyed. She was not even with us. We were thousands of miles away in an another country and he dares to call me Natalia.

My aunt forever calls me Natalia, no matter how much I say back that I'm Tatiana. Example:

Aunt: "Natalia, can you help me with this?"

Tatiana: "My name is Tatiana."

Aunt: "Oh, I'm sorry, Natalia, Natalia; ay, I always say your name wrong." (transalted from Spanish)

Even my eighty-something year old grandmother still calls me Natalia. Last night, she asked my mom if I were her. A reason why I chose to go on my separate ways in high school was so that people would see me as an individual. And, it worked. I felt like one person.

My mom thinks I'm exaggerating when I complain about this. She says family members do call her by her sisters. Yes, true, but my problem happens ALL THE FREAKIN' TIME! My sister doesn't care to see her relatives. She's always with her friends no matter the occasion. For Christmas, she didn't visit relatives because her friends were with theirs. So, she didn't go out. Natalia is always absent. TATIANA is always there. Then, they say that TATIANA doesn't care about the family because she's never there. Do you know how much TATIANA is there for her family??

Everytime I visit Natalia's Facebook, I see all the seventeen comments people post when she writes how she ate bad sushi and vommited. I cannot believe all the people that pay attention to what she writes. I honestly don't want to be jealous, but this girl says she has low self-esteem. I do agree when someone ignorantly says the reason why she's chunkier than me is because she eats more than me. But, no one replied when I write that I returned from Dominican Republic. Very few people reply to my posts. Maybe one or two and maybe someone will like it. But, that's it. I feel stupid for allowing Facebook to my my life, but it is an internet life that connects people from their homes and when in person, it gives absolute truth. No one really calls to ask if they want to hang around with me. I am making one good friend, which I'm happy for, but it's in a developing process. But for now, I'm not Tatiana. I'm the frame for Natalia so others criticize Tatiana.

How To Make Butter

Step One: Go to the supermarket and buy butter. Wait, but then we might accidentally pick up the dreaded margarine or the tub of "spread" because it looks like butter and it might somehow convince us that it tastes like butter. Margarine and "spread" is NOT real butter, no matter how much you want to argue with me. They're made by hydrogenating polyunsaturated vegetable oils, such as soybean and corn.

You see, polyunsaturated oils are unstable oils and remain liquid at room temperature. If you take a look at coconut oil, it is a solid at room temperature because it is a saturated oil. And yet, in the processed food industry, I ask myself why I see labels featuring hydrogenated coconut oil. Why?! It is already stable at room temperature! It doesn't need any further processing! Yes, I'm looking at you Mentos!

Hydrogenation is when creepy scientists take a genetically Monsanto modified soy or corn or cottonseed oils and add more hydrogen to make it stable, which means solid at room temperature. When you go to the health food store, you will see pure flax seed oil in the fridge? Why? Because it is a polyunsaturated oil and it is not stable even at room temperature! The corn and soy oils are poisonous to eat straight from the supermarket because they're in broad light all day. The solution by the crazy scientists is to hydrogenate the oil to make it stable and won't get rancid easily. But, by doing so, it increases the rate of, let's say, diabetes. Doctors totally want to ignore this, no matter how tough the truth is. Oh yeah, it'll also make you obese just by listening to your doctor.

Talk to your doctor about why you're so fat and can't lose weight. Yes, go ahead, ask. They will never help you! I don't trust doctors anymore, honestly. They're a bunch of quacks who love petroleum.

What is the solution to all this menace? Please, don't rip your precious hair off your head. Make your own butter. Yes, it is possible to make. The entire human race has survived with full fat unpasturized milk, and for some reason, no one has died from heart attacks. Butter is good because it is a natural process nature recognizes; not hydrogenation, which is made by a bunch of scentists doing their sciency things. Since when did scientists determine what we should eat? Just like how they're adding TBHQ and BHT in our foods. Yuck! Sick petroleum. You might as well drink the thing. Go ask a scientist how petroleum tastes like.

Now, here is the beautiful recipe that I myself do. Your best bet is to go to the supermarket and get the ingredients. I get mine raw, unpasturized, and unhomogenized. So far, I didn't have an e. coli poisoning, I didn't suffer major diarrhea, and I didn't vomit. Real milk tastes creamy and sweet. It's delicious! And so is real butter. You can salt it yourself or add garlic. You can do so many! And, you know what is in the butter. No worries of added ingredients that are being kept a secret by the mean food corporations. Let's make butter!

One cup of heavy cream. The heavier, the better.
Salt, optional. Celtic sea salt is best.
Wooden spoon
Large mixing bowl

Step One: Pour heavy cream into bowl.

Step Two: Beat the heavy cream with the spoon. It may take a while. If impatient, use an electric mixer. Warning: It may be very loud and will make your father angry for waking him up while sleeping.

Step Three: Beat, until the mixture separates liquid from solid. At this point, using a wooden spoon is best because the liquid won't splatter everywhere and you get more liquid out.

Step Four: You know when the third step is complete is when the solid naturally forms itself into a ball. It kind of gives you the message that it doesn't owe anything anymore. Ha, ha, ha... By using the sides of the bowl, squish the butter with the wooden spoon until it no longer squirts liquid. Do Not ignore this because the butter will go rancid easily if there is still liquid remaining in.

Step Five: Collect the liquid into the bowl. Congratulations, you have made buttermilk. See, you can make two in one! Now, you can use it to make buttermilk pancakes. Yum!

Step Six: Store the butter into a clean container. Add salt if you would like by adding a dash and mixing it in with a spoon.

Yay! You made butter! It's ultra fresh and tastes way better than supermarket. You will feel one step closer to the earth. Butter is good for you! Of course, don't overdo it, and you will have a beautiful toast to eat. Have fun and make sure to stay away from evil hydrogenated oils!

Please Don't Take Away My Sanity

Chewing gum is something for the life of it, I will NEVER tolerate. One thing is for sure: YOU LOOK LIKE A FREAKIN' COW. I must use capitol letters as this is how I utmost feel. Why must you expose yourself with the most annoying sound? What did I do to you? Do you hate me? WHY???

It all started in the eighth grade. My class was taking a very important history test and I was struggling (I didn't study!). My brain was firing cracker jacks. At that point, anything could annoy and distract me. And, that was when, that boy sitting next to me was slapping his gum. I shuddered. I moaned. I held my hands to my ears. I wish he saw me. I am now ruined.

I cannot walk the streets and hear someone chewing gum loudly. It makes me want to hurt them. Makes me want to punch their mouths and rip their jaws. I want to allow them to feel what I'm feeling deep down inside. When someone chews loudly on the train, I move away. I don't care if they look at me wrong. They're the ones that were rude in the beginning. One time, I had to get off the train because I didn't want that lady to sit next to me with her mouth with that vile product. Of course, she looked at me like I didn't want to sit next to her because she was black. It's always that reason, as they say in their minds. No lady, you were just bothering me with your gum; that's all. I love everyone except for gum.

In high school, it was way worse. I couldn't ask them to close their mouths. They would: a) laugh and continue their slew, b) spit at me, c) smash the gum in my hair, or d) curse me out. I didn't want to go through it, so I buckled up, closed my ears, and "tolerated".

Did you know that chewing gum is made from petroleum. Gasp, very true. It's made from a rubber called butyl rubber, a synthetic rubber. Just when you learned in class that it's made from chicle, well, you're wrong. It's butyl rubber made from fused dinosaur bones, not a tree. Imagine you chewing your despicable gum that's made from the same stuff that makes gasoline. Imagine all the smoke the smoke stacks release into our precious air. Yeah, that's right, you're contributing to global warming. No wonder gum doesn't digest in your system. It's not real!

Please people, for the sake of sanity, close your mouths while chewing gum. It will make everyone happy, including me. You can enjoy your petroleum and I will enjoy my peace of mind. It's really rude to see your mouth wide open; it encourages children to eat with their mouths open. I do not care if it is lemon curd flavored, it's all artificial yuck to me. I will never chew a piece of gum. My dream is to live in Singapore. Gum is illegal. Yes, maybe that's where I will be given my sanity.

Separating Diversity

Commercials of New York tourism will brag about how diverse this city is. True that, true that. But, what they won't ever say is how divided we are. We hold the title as being the most diverse city, and yet we people of New York City feel forced to be with each other. Racism still lives here. It's a powerful parasite infecting us. What is wrong here? Aren't we supposed to love each other? Well, not here, apparently, there are too many stereotypes going on.

Like, why is Manhattan predominately white? What would happen if I get an apartment in the Upper East Side and I tell my neighbors I used to live in the Bronx? They will probably think I will bring down all the hoodlums of the Bronx and make the area not worth living. I have a friend who lives in Brooklyn. She said there is a neighborhood that doesn't accept any black people to live. It's so wrong. Hey, Brooklyn, what's going on??

And it's not just a black racist thing. Where I live is predominately black. I've been living in my neighborhood for ten plus years. There are still familiar faces that greet me, and yet, sadly, there are faces of whom are young to me, but they give it to me like I stole candy from them. They don't like it when I enter the elevator with them. Some look over me and others who look up and down at me. It's as if I want to ask, "Do I smell funny?" and "Do you like my new sweater? It was on sale at JC Penney." If I were racist, I wouldn't tolerate being in an elevator with them.

It all brings me back to my past when I was in middle and high school. The children never liked me and made excuses about my hair, lies upon lies on favoritism between teacher and I, and spread dirty rumours, such as, my house crawled roaches all over and therefore, labeled me dirty and untouchable. My white skin wasn't acceptable to their ignorant faces. It was mostly girls who disrespected affection with me. They never wanted to sit next to me. Then, after high school, I went to a Bible school of which was predominately white. And, just when I though Christians accept everyone, well, I was wrong. White boys wanted white girls. Hispanic boys wanted white girls. Black boys wanted white girls. Asian boys wanted white girls. Hispanic girl wanted... Hispanic girl wanted... Hispanic girl wanted A boy. No. Not acceptable. I was denied of any relationship based on my ethnicity. I didn't have the ideal features. My hair and eye colors are dark brown. I felt both sides of the see saw. Back at home, I'm white. In Bible school, I'm Hispanic. None wanted those options. What was I left to do? Move on with my life.

New York City is truly a unique city. I can sit next to a millionaire on the train and not even know it. You could be living in an expensive SoHo loft, but through your windows, you will see a homeless man sleeping on your block. We have all colors of social statuses. The phrase keeps reoccurring in my mind: "It doesn't matter what race. We should keep loving each other." Oh yeah, what about starting where you live, prophet holder? I always see white people talking with white people and asians talking with asians, blacks with blacks, blah, blah, (racism) blah. Stop separating yourselves and start moving into areas that aren't your "people" and love. I will believe this city is diverse and love each other's diversity when this happens. Other than that, New York City is another racist city in the United Racist States of Ameracism.

Long live KKK or Black Power?

A Baby at 20??

Yes, teen pregnancy is rampant in this generation, but they became pregnant unintentionally. If you get married at 19, and expect to have a baby when you're 20 years old, you must be on crack. These days, being 25 to 30 is a time to settle down and start a family. It's not that you're getting old, it's that your party days are over, to put it bluntly. A 28 year-old in Juicy Couture is eye-squinting. I myself am 20 years old and is loving my childless youth because I NEED A LIFE!

I grew up the conservative Christian way. Yes, the people who see sex before marriage more evil than domestic violence. In the fall of 2007, I went to Word of Life Bible Institute in hopes to learn about the Bible. Instead, I was used for free labor and treated like an imbecile for nine months before I dropped out. It's people like those who get brainwashed and join the Word of Life cult that makes others not want to be Christian.

At Word of Life, they encouraged early marriages. If you weren't married, you were seen as a person in need of high discipline. Don't ask me why; they are a cult. I myself am aware that I am too young to make such choice. Yes, I don't need sex to be in love! I love my boyfriend and we have a healthy relationship without the need of marriage to complete it. I still don't know if he is the one for me. You know why, I HAVE A LIFE!! I was sick of all this "turn to your left, turn to your right. That person could be your next husband or wife. Hahaha" and " We are known as Word of Life Bridle Institute because everyone finds their future spouse here. hAhAha". I don't need a husband now. Funny thing, I never met my future husband nor any potential boyfriend until a month after dropping out of Word of Life when I met my current boyfriend. Ironic? No. I HAVE A LIFE!!

Because of this early marriage, you're going to get pregnant at some point... at 20 years old! Woah, it almost felt like someone sprayed pepper spray in my eyes. You see, the difference between teen pregnancy and early marriage pregnancy is that when a teen gets pregnant, they weren't expecting to have a baby. Being married so young intentionally and having a baby with great anticipation knowing you will be having a baby is ear tearing. If you're too young to have a beer legally, you're too young to have a baby!

Again, I will stress this: I HAVE A LIFE!! My youth is short and I don't want to give up my life to take care of a baby that will come through my VAGINA. Yes, Word of Life, I said VAGINA. Sue me, please. The painful procedure will keep me in rememberance that I traded my life to the baby. I do want a child of my own, SOMEDAY, NOT NOW. Audience, enjoy your youth now because you will never have it back. All your friends will have lots of fun living the single life and you will be stuck at home taking care of the baby...

Badge of... Honor?

December 2006- I was at a rehearsal for an upcoming live theatre performance produced by viBe Theater and starring us brilliant high school girls. That day, we had a young lady observing us and maybe "possibly" joining us, which in the future she never did. Anyway, our vibrant leaders introduced us to her. I don't remember her name; I just remember she was blond, tall, and a bit chunky. When they said she lives in New York City, she held two fingers (index and middle) and claimed her Upper East Side existence. It was like she had to make a reference to her location or else it would've been unrealistic of her living in Manhattan. Whatever. No one praised her for it. It's not like she lived next to Gossip Girl or something.

May 2008- I visited a church on 55th Street and was conversating with the people around me. I told a girl (woman, lady) where I live and again, I saw that same position of fingers. She held it high and said she lived in Sixty-Something Street and Whatever Avenue. I guess she had to prove to me that she lived in a more refined area than me, thus pushing the forever (hopefully ending) stereotype.

Do those fingers prove something? It's like a badge or a pledge of honor to symbolize their social status and just by displaying them, it'll make me inferior. Well, I'm from the Bronx. The Bronx has a stereotype of being a dangerous place. Does this mean my badge is sticking my middle finger? That'll prove my location.

"Hey, where do you live, Tatiana?"

I quickly point my middle finger in her face and say, "The Bronx. Booyah!"

It may dissolve those Manhattan fingers. What have they got to prove? Nothing. Most of the badge promoting pushers aren't from this city. I'll probably one day move out of this city and live somewhere peaceful, like the Adirondacks. I want to escape the conflict of this terrible stereotype and have people finally see me as a gentle spirit and not allow it to corrupt based on my hometown. Please, people, the Bronx is a beautiful place!

Words Tickle Me

It's words like cake, snack, and pea protein that giggles my insides. Cake sounds like a dense and moist word. Like, if there weren't a silent e, then it would be cak, and that sounds weird. What is cak? Cake is so smooth, like spreading frosting on cake. It's comforting. With adjectives, like "sponge" cake makes me want to bake a huge one and jump on it. Or, use it like a sponge to see how absorbant it really is. Yum, I'd like a piece of moist chocolate cake. So many flavors, so many names, can't I just have one piece of cake?! Please!

Now, snack is definetely the opposite of cake. Snack sounds quick and stops abruptly. It's much easier to scream SNACK because snack raises your voice. It's like climbing a hill. "I need a snack." It's short, simple, sweet, and salty. Pretzels, baby carrots, and fruit gummies all make a snack. Because everyone needs a short, quick way to satisfy our (mental) hunger pains.

Now, why pea protein? Well, peas have been used for tens of years for professional bullying purposes. Such as, "pea brain". Peas are not a very superior vegetable. But, to the nutritionally unaware, peas may be smarter than your brains. It's packed with protein, which build your mitochondria with fuel to make more cells. In the long run, eating your peas gives you healthy cells, including your brain cells. When sold in protein alone, such as in powder form, you would think it wouldn't compete with the other protein buffs, such as soy protein and whey protein. You think pea protein wouldn't stand a chance. Well, bird brains, by which have lots of protein because they eat lots of nuts, pea protein gives you as much energy as your super soy because peas are not heavily genetically modified and processed. You wouldn't think peas would compare, well tough, it does. Great for vegans who need extra protein when working out. Try pea protein! And, if someone calls you a pea brain, remember to say thanks for the complement because you've got the power.

Tune in next time for another Words Tickle Me by Tatiana Vargas-Caba

Books are Fun

Winter 1996: There was an event at my church. While the adults were in the service room, us kids were on the other side being watched by caring mothers who chose to watch over us roudy children. My sister and I being very gullible seven-year olds, we were asked by the older kids what we do for fun. We pulled out books we borrowed from the library and said our dad told us to bring books so we wouldn't get bored. They told us to put it away because it was stupid. We sadly listened.

When my sister worked at Pac Sun, there were these very young girls walking in with very heavy makeup on. She asked how old they were and they said, "Thirteen, no wait, twelve."

Kids these days think reading is boring and following "adult" like figures are way awesome. Okay, what's wrong with reading? It wasn't until now at my young adult age where I saw reading is so cool and I want to write a book but don't know where to start. My father just finished a book after writing it for thirty years. BEAR: Flight to Liberty.

These days, there are so many books and thousans of topics, how can it be easy to choose what you want to read? Stories, how to's, non-fiction, facts, information, gosh there's so much more. It's like when someone asks you what are your interests and your mind goes blank. And, there are books for teens that talk about real life instead of what stupid thing your favorite celebrity did. I've read the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and the other three books following.

Lately, I've been reading those Harlequin novels. I know, it's a dirty book. I haven't picked one up in a month. Lost interest, I guess. It was always the same topic: A common woman gets encountered with a foreign man who's a prince and they've been captured for some reason and couldn't be released. So, during that time, they fall in love and once the spell was broken, they get married and have children. The end. Yay.

Kids are being sucked into begging their parents to buy them Wii, Twinkies, and the latest gadget available at your local Toys R Us, only because they bring happiness to your child's eyes. If you tell them we're taking a family trip to Barnes and Noble, they'll cry and scream and hide in their video game hut. When I was ten, going to Barnes and Noble was a picnic.

So why not head over to your local libray or bookstore? Books are an entertainment for your mind. You get to dream how the characters you want them to look like instead of watching a movie like Dark Knight and say the character for his girlfriend was too old. The more you read, the more you know. Documentaries can totally inform you, but you can't carry it with you. Grab a good book and read it outside in the warm sun. A slight of encouragement doesn't hurt.

I can't write anymore. I need to grab a book.

Love is Life

For those who know me, I recently graduated from beauty school and am a NY licensed esthetician. An esthetician is someone who performs facials, waxing, body treatments, and sometimes makeup. They occupy jobs at spas. Well, I became one so I can get a much better job than working at a store, such as Mandee. Please, don't remind me. I honestly think for all you Mandee shoppers that they are doing illegal stuff, such as a New York State law broken: If working during a five hour period, you may have breaks ten minutes in each hour or have a full thirty minutes for your term. At Mandee, every seven hours you get thirty minutes... and that's it. I shouldn't complain because at Pretty Girl, you only get thirty minutes lunch for your work period and if the new shipment comes, you just lost your lunch and have to get up and organize the clothes. That really sucks. Slavery. It's upsetting how these people have no love for others. Love is the only thing that makes your life better.

I have a hard time loving people. Like the people from middle school and high school who have dumped a heaping dose of racism on my shoulders, to the people from Word of Life how they would screw with my mind about God, sex, and living life, and finally to my time at beauty school when there were days I wanted to quit because of extreme favoritism, constant blames, and feeling like I wouldn't succeed in life. I felt like crap.

Like, how can people do that? Where is the love? Why do people make a big deal about attitudes? Why must I be forbidden from sex? These questions pop up in my mind so many times. I have a really hard time letting go from my bad times. I talk a lot about how I felt hurt by my teacher or constant story time to my boyfriend about what happened to me at Word of Life. And honestly, everytime I talk about that, I don't have love. I have hate. I want to hurt them. I want to eat them for dinner. I want to say they don't deserve to live. But, being the way I am, I don't. It's fear mixed with compassion. I'm afraid to hurt them because after I whack them, I would feel like a monster. A hatred monster. A continuous carry on of hatred.

Love is what gets me by through life. God's love, my mother's love, my sister's deep hidden love, my family's love, my boyfriend's love, all for me. I do love them, but honestly, if I don't love other people, then I don't love my loved ones, and myself. God tells me to love my enemies. Without love, people wouldn't survive. I know I wouldn't.

I don't get it, how can you love and hate someone at the same time? It's a horrible feeling. I want to love, love, love. I need to stop asking questions. I need solutions. I need to love others more. That would be my choice of path. I love you, whoever you are. Maybe we'll never meet, but I want to let you know that I love you and God takes you to a good walk. Yes, maybe that would make my life easier.

Stereotypes

I am a fruit. An exotic nut that can only be found in the Carribean. To an American's mind, Carribean is a getaway to another world of tropical paradise. I am of Dominican descent and I do love where my ancestors are from. I am a Dominican York, someone who is of Dominican descent, but was born in New York.

Despite of my background, I dream of escaping from trains and icky smelling petroleum that this city spews and venture through basically, paradise. I do believe tropical countries are paradise. The beaches have such white sand that gleams like a diamond and water that is so clear, stress doesn't exist. Something a day spa can't fix for a whole day.

Though I love where I'm from, it seems as though people in this country don't appreciate it. Dominicans have a stereotype of having a certain attitude and having dark skin. I am quite the opposite. I have very light skin and said I behave like a white girl. I've been confused for Jewish, Italian, White American, Puerto Rican, South American, Japanese, and Middle Eastern. I don't know where these people come up with these things, but I guess they refuse to believe I'm Dominican just by the way I am.

I can be shy or I can be a monkey. I decide on my mood and surroundings. I am a very random person. My skin color is light, and the African American and other Hispanics that went to middle and high school with me will totally agree with you, but the people in Upstate New York would disgress, because they would convince themselves first and then me that I am darker than them. Let's get this straight: WHO CARES?!?!?! God made me this way, so why can't we love what God has done? Don't you love God? If you love your friend and she made you a lovely bracelet, wouldn't you love it? It hurts when your own Dominicans refuse to believe your heritage all because you don't hail the stereotype.

The media has taken Hispanics as these people with weird accents, tan skin, and common names, like Juan and Maria. Well, my name is Tatiana, it's Russian, but, I'm not Russian, I'm Dominican, but my father speaks Russian like we speak English, but, he's still Dominican. But, but, but, silly word keeps coming into my way and making others believe that I'm making this stuff up. Would you like to stop by my house for a day? I'll make you a cup of tea. Maybe you'll see if you believe me. The media refuses to believe my side of the story because they're making crap loads of money off of this stereotype. They show us as dirty dancing people, and not that movie Dirty Dancing, the other side of dirty dancing. Where I break it down and drop it like it's hot. And that I'm a slut and have unprotected sex and end up pregnant. My high school has a day care, and the babies are the students, not the teachers.

This past Mother's Day, I was walking around the cards section to look for a lovely card to my dear Mamí. I had to get it in Spanish because she wouldn't understand it in English. Obviously. Mostly, the Spanish cards had all this Catholic crap as if every Hispanic mother believes Mary will get her to heaven. Only one card just talked about God without Catholic stuff and it was the one I got for her. She loved it. Hello, not all Hispanics are Catholic. I don't go to mass. I don't need to. I am saved through the blood of Jesus Christ and therefore, I can read the true Holy Bible and don't need a superior other than God to translate it for me.

All this rounds out to the fact that why doesn't everyone just love each other? Not caring about color, race, or anything that can separate. Though I went through racism and prejudice, I don't hate any culture. I love everyone. Love is the only thing that can take the hate away. Jesus loves everyone. God loves everyone. Let's all love. All we need is love. Take it away, Beatles...

Reality

Haven't you ever heard how the Bronx is so bad and your friends that live in the East Village who are actually from nowhere town USA suddenly move to the fake NYC to attend NYU paid by their rich parents, say that they can never enter the Bronx and they don't do "borough" based on what they've heard? Well, how ignorant of them to know that once upon a time, living in the East Village was for the poor and the Bronx was for the very wealthy. A major street in the Bronx, The Grand Boulevard and Concourse, or officially known as Grand Concourse, has the most majestic buildings in all boroughs. I'm sorry, but Brooklyn is the ugliest borough, no matter what the money eating hipsters say. Living on the Grand Concourse was like living in Park Avenue today. If you've walked there, don't you notice the fantastic details on the buildings only the rich could afford? Don't you notice in the East Village, SoHo, and TriBeCa, how all the buildings look the same, except for the newly constructed ones based on gentrification?

Yes, Upper East and West Sides have always been for the rich. Washington Heights was also for the rich, and so was Inwood. When you cross the George Washington Bridge coming in to New York, haven't you noticed the buildings that occupy Washington Heights are more beautiful than your squished building Downtown? Basically, the rich have always taken opposite sides to stay as far away from the poor as possible. Just like how the rich went from being the most pale faced mummies, to the darkest burnt corpses by frying their skin from tanning. It was said that since the poor was always outside working, they developed darker skin. The rich was always inside because they were too rich to work and because of that, they developed pale skin. But, when the Industrial Revolution came about and the poor were locked into giant dark factories, their skin turned very pale and the sign of richness was doomed. After Coco Chanel came back from a Mediterranian getaway, the tan became a craze based on sexiness and value of wealth. You were rich enough to relax outside on a beach and soak in some sun, while your dad's company hired a vast majority at a sweatshop. One small change can revolutionize the social class.

My life has always been opposite. I never understood it. Like, when a family member of mine doesn't want to take a picture with us, our aunt would blame my sister and I (we are twins). They call us odiosa, which I don't have a translation in English but it isn't a nice word to call someone. Or whenever I think about the worst of something, the outcome is excellent. If someone tells me to think the best of something, the result is bad. But, if I think it's going to be incredibly boring or it will be a bad time, the end is the best day. It might be Murphy's Law soaked into my soul.

My name is Tatiana and I'm from the Bronx. I love the history of New York City, especially the Bronx and Downtown Manhattan. I frequently write about everything and anything I want. I have notebooks filled with pages of my fresh mind. I read and read and read. I love to read. I love theater, ballet, filmmaking, and anything related to the arts. I is a selfish word. It brags about me, which doesn't want me to talk about you. You makes me feel equal. This is a little introduction about myself based on reality. Call it journaling, blogging, it's just writing to me. This is how I view my world. How about yours?