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.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
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!
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!
Saturday, December 5, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, December 4, 2009
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?
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?
Monday, November 16, 2009
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...
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...
Monday, November 2, 2009
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!
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!
Thursday, October 29, 2009
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
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
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