I'm losing it....

I am running on empty.  No; below empty.  I am averaging 4-5 hours of sleep a night, am battling something (have been achy, coughing, sneezing and feverish for 3 days yet somehow have managed to lift, run, go to a concert, host a party, attend bbq etc, etc-if for some reason I do get N1H1 and btw my friend works for a district that has closed schools because of it and I was oh, so upset because he doesn't have to go to work for a week and I DO but then he told me that the kids don't have to go but teachers do; um, hello, that is so wrong.  I got over my no school envy pretty quickly after finding that out.)  If I bite the bullet, please, please someone make sure that Weight of the World by Editors is played at my funeral.  I looked at my calendar for the next 4 weeks and wanted to cry.  Really.  Everyone is like, "Oh, school is almost over and for you its really over."  News flash amigos; I still have a TON to teach, have to pack up my classroom, come to the realization that I won't be teaching anymore and find a job.  Not to mention help my kids end their year.  I didn't go to a second bbq tonight so that I could do laundry and write lesson plans.  This is my life right now and it's not going to get any better any time soon.

But.  On the other hand, I have an incredibly supportive family and network of friends who I can rely on and aside from this annoying illness that I have, my health.  My kids are healthy, my husband hasn't called the producers of Wife Swap yet and the Women's sale at Nordstroms is going on right now.  And once this craziness is over, an entire new chapter in my life is opening up.  I have a fantastic summer planned.  I just hired Brian to be pretty much control every aspect of my life for 4-6 weeks (those entries should be some good ones-ha.)  I have a lot to look forward to.  I just wish it was sooner.

Just how crazy have things been around here?  I just saw my very good friend Leslie who LIVES 4 DOORS DOWN for the first time in 3 months.  3 months.  Our communication is her usually yelling out of her car window when she drives by, "Thanks a lot for not calling me back you loser!" I totally love her.  We caught up today at a bbq and I had forgotten just how funny  she is and how much I enjoy her company.  Our kids all get along and her hubby and Vic are also good friends.  To my complete surprise, Vic, Mr. Antisocial invited them all up to N.H. for the 4th of July.  I would have jumped him right there if I had had enough energy to jump.  So proud of him for exhibiting extrovert behavior.  She completely agreed but added, "You know I'm going to drink like a fish."  I said, "Better that then fish."  Actually, we have this crazy idea to rent a boat and go water skiing.  Dear readers, if this does happen, I am pretty certain that the pictures that would follow would have BLACKMAIL written all over them.  Today, we had to hike through the woods to get to the beach and she did this in five inch heels.  I'm not sure I was any better in my Prada sunglasses and backpack.   Outdoorsy and nature loving are not exactly our middle names.

I plan on doing a lot of catching up and re-connecting with people this summer.  Have a bunch of concerts lined up too.  Have this massive pile of books, movies and tv that I need to catch up on too.  But there was still this nagging question of, "Where are we going to go on vacation?"  Aquaman really didn't want to go to California like we usually do because we were just there albeit for 3 days this month.  Plus, my little sis will be, I don't know where the heck she's going to be, but she's going to be away.  So the question of where to go began to consume every minute of my day.  We looked at Club Med, Disney World, a dude ranch (I was really into the dude ranch idea; not sure why) and finally decided on Arizona and New Mexico.  Vic's idea; just fly and then figure out what to do when we get there.  I actually am hyperventilating just writing that.  Yeah, if it was just the two of us but not with two kids.  On Saturday we spent 4 hours on the internet.  Still nothing.  He did not understand my sense of urgency.  Of course he wouldn't; he will not be the one home with 2 kids because we couldn't get our act together and choose a place and time.  I had to pick out a couple of filler camps in August and couldn't until we decided on our vacation.  Don't get me wrong; I look forward to spending time with them and have some pretty cool day trips planned.  I'm not one of those parents who believe in filling up every week of their summer.  Kids need a break too.

Finally, finally my idea came to me.  Rent a house on Martha's Vineyard for a week.  The week of my birthday and invite my family up for a couple of nights to celebrate.  3 hours later I found the perfect house in Vineyard Haven, have the lease, ferry reservations and images of days at the beach, grilling lobster, drinking wine on the deck, running on the beach, taking horseback riding lessons, walking into town and just chillin.  We have never done a vacation like this before.  If you had told me a year ago that this would be my idea of a perfect summer vacation, I wouldn't have believed it.  But this, this is exactly what I need after my year.  We went to a bbq at my dad's last night and invited him and my stepmother for a few nights.  They were so thrilled.  Major discussions of meals to cook, cocktails to make, games to play.  OMG, I sound so, so, Nick at Nite but this is what I need right now in my life.  You gotta go with what you need.  Plus, there are major discussions about a huge Holland family trip next year to HAWAII.  Don Ho, here I come.  And, and, I think we may be going, just the two of us to NYC for a weekend to hit some museums, weirdo plays and fantastic meals.  Oh, I wish I were there now.

Today I also caught up with my NEXT DOOR NEIGHBORS.  I live next door to them.  I complimented one of them on their "new" dog.  Laurie told me, "Stephanie, we got him in October."  How could I have not noticed a new dog living right next door to me.  My kids also participated in the town Memorial Day parade.  I made Drew get his hair cut.  Every single person who sees him now says, "Steph, he looks so OLD."  I feel so OLD. But then he yelled "Mom" across the parking lot and some guy looks at me and says, "You're his mom?"  Much better now thank you.

It's funny; I just shared with a friend a product that I couldn't live without.  It's an eye cream and just you wait; I plan on sharing lots of my favorites and not so favorites this summer.  But honestly, you know what keeps me young (other than my increasing immaturity and short bedhead hair cut)-moments like the one below.

You can't bottle TLC.  

"She's like the Octuplet Mom of American Girl"

My mini me turned 8 today.  8 years old.  

As I have written before, she is SO INTO American Girl.  She spends her free time reading the books, navigating the website, dressing or doing her doll's hair and discussing EVERY detail of her upcoming Birthday party at, where else, The American Doll store.  I'm not kidding; I sat next to the kid for 6 hours on the plane and she talked about this party for 90% of the time.   This party costs about as much as my wedding but thats okay.  Amelia, my sweet Amelia, puts up with a lot.  She's the second and quite honestly, the easier of the two.  I can't tell you how excited I am to spend more time with her next year.  I miss doing things like taking her to school.  Its the little things that I look forward to once the school year is over.

I kid you not, the rules for this party are insane.  Much to her brother's and father's dismay, they cannot attend on Sunday.  So to give them a taste, she decided to have her family dinner at the store.  I won't even repeat what her brother said in the car on the way there but it had to do with losing an anatomy part during this experience.  The entire day really was all about American Girl.  Here she is with her first gift this morning, an American Girl sweatshirt.

At the store, your dolls get to dine with you.  Yes, I had to sit there while Marisol and Samantha stared blankly at me while I chewed on my food.

Ooh, they give me the heebijeebies just looking at them.  Amelia "really, really wanted a Just Like Me" doll.  A doll that looks "just like her."  There are 32 to choose from.  She is #2.  After a lot of discussion as to what to name her, Vanessa Hudgens and J Lo were a few options, she decided on Eliza.  I'm not so sold that they look alike.

That's when Aquaman said it.  She had lined up all the dolls; Eliza, Marisol, Samantha, Bitty Baby, Chrissa and Julie (they all come with names and "issues"-I kid you not.  OMG, they should totally market a Steph doll; mine though might have to come as a multiple set because of my various issues.)  He looks at her and says, "She's like the octuplet mom of American Girl."  The cake below (and yes that is a yodling pickle she is holding) came flying out of my mouth.

Speaking of cake; here's a picture of Eric's cake which was finally eaten on Saturday night.  I plan on making a poster of this and selling it on T Nation.

I have my first race tomorrow.  In 90 degree weather.  I have run one 3 miler since the marathon (haven't been slacking; just no running.)  I am pretty certain, I will be destroyed.  Like it matters; I'm running with friends and going for the obligatory post race beer afterwards.  Post race carbs are important you know.

Customer Service

Growing up in Seattle, Nordstroms, my beloved Nordstroms, set the bar for customer service.  I have written volumes on Nordstrom's customer service.  But they aren't the only ones. 

Coach sends me handwritten notes thanking me for my purchases and informing me of private sales.  L&F, a women's boutique in Wellesley sends me personal notes also informing me of private sales.  Just today Nordstroms called me to inform me of the sale beginning this Wednesday and asking if I'd like anything set aside.  Hmm, I could think of a few things.  And my fragrance contact at Saks invited me to a special event; bring in any empty Bond No 5 bottle and they will fill it for free.  For free.  People I have empty bottles of NoHo and Chinatown. They're going to fill it for free.  That's like $400 of free fragrance.  

Seriously, going to tinkle over that one.

I have high standards (okay some of you are totally laughing right now but I do, with some things.)  I have zero tolerance for poor customer service.  Especially when it involves a friend. On his birthday.  Eric has come through for me on multiple times.  From training to appearing with Olympians for my class on a one day notice and to reminding me just how smart I am.  Ha, ha.  I mean this guy was texting me last minute support as I was doing my thing in the porta potty at Athlete's Village.  This the morning after his engagement.  Now that's dedication.  If his fiance brought him a cake (and homemade protein bar) damnit, we were going to eat cake.

This past weekend Eric's finace, Anna, threw him a surprise birthday dinner.  A bunch of us CP people went to Fire and Ice.  I even got a sitter and Aquaman came too!  We have been to Fire and Ice multiple times; we even celebrated Drew's birthday there this year.   But never, never have we experienced what we did this past Saturday.

Reservations were at 6:30.  Didn't get seated until 7:00.  There were 16 of us pretty much blocking the entry way.  Apparently when Anna arrived with a beautiful cake, she was rudely told that cakes were not allowed.  This surprised Anna who had called multiple times to ask if it was okay and was given the green light.  I walk in and am told of the situation and make my famous "Wtf" Steph face and Brian, I'm pretty sure Brian goes, "Steph will take care of it."  Now this completely cracks me up because there were some STRONG arse guys there.  Guys with bulging muscles.  And some pretty tall girls.  People who actually have a physical presence.  But no, the midget gets elected to raise hell.   Well, come to think of it, I do have the biggest mouth.  But come on, wouldn't you be scared of this guy?

That's the face I get like every 5 minutes when training.  Steph stick your butt out, Steph want some cheese with that whine, Steph you're being awfully sassy.  

We had a great time and I enjoyed seeing people eat multiple plates of dead animal flesh and vegetables.   Then came the showdown.  Cheezy bad Western music playing in the background here.  I won't get into the details but I was nice (well Splenda nice) and after told multiple times that it's "a Cambridge thing" I asked specifically for "What Cambridge thing."  Manager stumbled (proud moment there; made her nervous.)  I then asked myself, "What are they going to do if I just pull out a fork and started eating it?  Arrest me.  Can you see it now, "Teacher arrested for eating cake."  

We left defeated but not broken.  Poor Eric had to resort to nibbling on the rubber steak I got him as part of his gift for his birthday.

Tear rolling down cheek after viewing that picture.  We headed down to their apartment to have the cake and that's when another brilliant idea came to me.  Eric agreed it was brilliant so we started calling restaurants in Cambridge to see if this rule was true.  Guess what people?  IT WAS A LIE.  A LIE.  There is no rule about bringing food in.  In fact two of the restaurants offered to let us put the cake in the fridge. 

Let's just say I called them on it that night and now have a phone appointment with the owner. You don't mess with me.  Or my friends.  And you definitely don't mess with cake.

Btw, I think this is the cake Eric should have next year.

I think I finally got it

This is a first.  I have never written an entry the night after a concert.  In fact, I tend to not write it all.  But I had no choice in the matter.  I had to.

Confession time.

I actually wrote a marathon blog.  It's long.  It's not so much about the race but about the last 3 minutes.  This kind of out of body experience.  This movie of my life where all of these questions I had became abundantly clear with answers and faces.  Things jut clicked.  And it was all to Snow Patrol's Open Your Eyes, one of my top 5 songs.  I mean, I couldn't make this stuff up.   I'm not sure why tonight made me think of it but it did.  

But I never published it.  I have lots that I never publish.  It's pretty loaded.  I'm just not there yet.

Tonight I had the honor of seeing Lori McKenna.  From the first strum of her guitar, she totally had me in a trance.  That voice, those lyrics.  I mean she made me almost cry.  So I'm sitting here wondering, is she going to sing it?  Is she going to sing my song.  She did not.  But I got my answers. Most songs are about her husbandm of 21 years (she is only 40 and has a 20 year old and 4 more kids the youngest being 5.)  One Man; those lyrics killed me.  Then she says she was reading an article with Glen Stefani (and yes I am going to see No Doubt next month; do I give good birthday gifts or what?  The reporter asked her, "What do you think makes your marriage work?"  Gwen said, "Sticking by each other through everything."  

Now I have always admired Gwen; I consider her a pioneer for so many reasons.  She fronted an all guy band, she has this style that is genuinely her and says, I really could care less what you think of me, now she has her own clothing line.  She took some risks in her solo career (truth be told , I like a lot of her solo stuff better than the No Doubt stuff.)  Then there is the fact that she married a hot British musician.  Amelia is actually really getting into her and she made me promise to buy her a tee shirt when I go see them.  There was nothing sexy about that answer.  She and Gavin have been together for awhile.  They now have two sons.  You never hear about public fights at Nobu or unidentified people in their cars (btw, Kate of John and Kate was on the cover of this week's US; can we say affair with The Bodyguard.  This story just keeps getting uglier.  Cue I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston right now.  You know if those two want to have an open relationship, fine, but stop pretending that you actually like each other and think of what this will do down the road to your EIGHT children. And that fact that your family is on a reality tv show that is a model of "the perfect" family.   As a parent you make multiple mistakes daily, or at least I do.  And I've made some doozies.  But I learned from them. You look at those mistakes and analyze and try to figure out why.  I guess what infuriates me about this entire situation is that they are pretending to be someone they aren't.  Neither of them has come clean.  I would have so much respect if they said, "We are having some major issues, made some mistakes and are now trying to work through it."  Not work it out but work through it.  Whether it's staying together or separating, do something.  But do you really want one of your kids to catch a glimpse of the headline, "Jon and Kate on a date; with other people."  Someone, someone please think of those kids.  If they are staying together for the sole purpose for the show then that is so wrong.  

And that's what I loved about Gwen's answer to the infamous "What makes your marriage work" question.  No stupid, well every third Thursday we head down to Coffee, Bean, Tea and Leaf for date night.  No, we surprise each other with little gifts.  Gwen's answer was actually brilliant the more I think of it (and now totally more psyched to see her.)  She's basically saying, "You've got to be there for each other; through the good, bad and the ugly."   I totally want to give her a hug right now.  Just being there.  Lori then went on to say that this next song was inspired by that answer.  And that's when I finally got it.  Why I love Lori so much, why I was reminded of out of body experience during the marathon at the concert and just who my song, Beautiful Man is about.  Last night Lori would preface every song with a funny story and more than half of them were intended to be about something else but "this song as usual ended up about my husband."  They have been married for 20 years.  Five kids.  Had financial hardships.  Look, just look at her lyrics.  She is the queen of writing about the kind of love and relationships Gwen is talking about.  No, the sun, the moon and the stars aligned when I saw you, the ground shook kind of sh*t going on.  It's about knowing the little things.  The silent connection.  Here is the song the song inspired by Gwen; and seriously, I know I've said seriously a lot this blog, this just makes me even more excited about seeing her next month.  Listen.  I think you'll figure out the answer.

I have got to go to bed.  I've got a huge day tomorrow.  And I cannot wait to blog about this and hopefully post some priceless pictures.

Lori tear my hear out McKenna

 

I'm seeing Lori McKenna tomorrow night.  My third time in less than a year.  There is something about this one that rips my heart apart.  That makes me feel so vulnerable.  I've played her for so many people and not one person has NOT liked her.  The guys at Karma Coffee were all over her cover of Radiohead's Fake Plastic Trees on a cd that I made for them.  Aquaman loves her.  Another friend loved her cover of Peter Gabriel's In Your Eyes.  And Cujo had the same reaction I did when she heard Beautiful Man.  Actually, I've been listening to You Have Been Loved a lot lately.  Whereas Beautiful Man is about reaffirming love and wanting to protect, this song is about loving someone and letting them go because it's the right thing to do.  No hard feelings, no regrets, just love.

So I was going to go into tomorrow armed with questions about Beautiful Man which I have yet to hear live.  And then I remembered this song which hasn't even been recorded.  Listen to it.  But have some tissues ready.  This woman is a genius.  Pure genius.

The Sixteentuplet Couple

The magazines I subscribe to should tell you a little about me.  Living with Rachel Ray (that one's for the hubby; he's got a thing for Rachel), Rolling Stone (one of my new bathroom faves,) ESPN and Sports Illustrated (prefer SI), Vanity Fair (have to get some politics in) and US Weekly and People.  Every Friday there's a knockdown, smackdown fight between the two of us for reading privileges.  We have sunk so low as to barge into the bathroom and snatch it from each other; what's the person going to do?  Run after it with their pants around the legs and tp sticking out of the booty?

So after pouring over both this past week, I got another one of my brilliant ideas (and I would just like to say that today someone told me, "You really are a smart midget.")  Every week there is a story on Jon, the husband/father on John and Kate plus Eight.  And of course no week would be complete without a story on The Octuplet mom, Nadya.  

I have seen only one episode of Jon and Kate but apparently the wife, Kate, is a real ball buster and it seems Johhny Boy has wandered off a little.  Now, I always give people the benefit of the doubt.  He claims his new 23 year old girl "friend" is just that, a friend.  Hey, buddy, totally cool.  I have lots of guy friends.  Totally cool with that.  But upon reading and looking at the pictures I did have some questions.  I've never invited my guy friends over to sunbathe while my spouse is away. But hey, maybe the 23 year old was helping with the kids?  Then there's the gifts he's bought her.  Hey, I buy my guy friends gifts; I even blog about how awesome the gifts are.  In fact, tonight I just ordered gifts for two of them whose bdays are in the next week.  But I've never bought them $200 Cole Haan bags or jewelry.  Think more music, tee shirts and the occasional concert ticket.  Still though, I'm going with John's story.  Then came the confession from 23 year old's brother; Jon comes over with pizza (hey, I've shown up with food before) and doesn't leave until the next morning and he hears animalistic noises coming from her locked bedroom.  Okay, I usually drop the food off, chit chat for a few minutes and then head home to make animalistic noises (meow)  in the comforts of my own home.  I'm just speculating.  I do not judge; I hate that.  None of us except them knows the real story of what is going on.  But if I'm speculating, it's that John here wants to get caught because it takes one viewing of Melrose Place to learn how NOT to get caught.

The other person always in my two favorite magazines is  the Octuplet mom, Nadya. No comment on that speculation.  None.    She is screaming "I want a reality tv show."  Jon is probably going to need a new job unless TLC does "John and Kate Break with Eight." Oh, those poor kids; to have to endure the media (which I guess feed into with my magazine obsession-hmm, have to think about that one.)  So that's when it came to me.  John and Nadya could hook up and have 16 KIDS between them.  16!  Imagine the episodes.  John having his "girl" friends over, eating pizza by the pool and making monkey sounds while Nadya leaves the babies and goes to get her nails done.  

If this indeed becomes a reality show, I am so suing for "creative" privileges!

To be a Hidalgo

Almost 38 years ago, my Grandpa Gus (one of the most treasured people in my life) walked into the hospital and told my mom that I would be a Hidalgo, not a Garcia after the man known as my sperm donor.  It was a gutsy thing to do.  It was only 1971 and the child, whether the biological father, I mean sperm donor, wanted it or not, still took his surname.  It was the greatest gift my Grandpa ever gave me.  He knew I deserved better than to be given the name of a man who pretty much rejected me (gee, I wonder where my abandonment issues and detachment issues come from.  I will not and refuse to use that as an excuse; I'd like to send out a muchas gracias to someone who brought to my attention my tendency to drift away when I get close.  I don't even realize I'm doing it which scares me.  You are a true friend for calling me on it and Sparky (a new nickname for me!) will never do that again.  My mom told me that my Grandpa said, "She's a Hidalgo."  And he was so right.

So just what does it mean to be a Hidalgo?  It means that you are a member of a tres loco but loving family where loyalty runs high as does the humor (and sometimes insults; okay lots of times.)  My kids experienced firsthand what it takes.  They are after all Hidalgos too.

I missed my cousin's Cynthia's wedding because I was terrified of flying.  She got married less than a year after my mom died.  I bought my tickets.  Thought I could do it.  And totally couldn't.  You don't understand, Mexicans don't miss weddings.  Two years later, I made it to my cousin Sandra's wedding but as joyous as the occasion was, it was filled with sorrow too.  Sandra's dad, my Uncle Gordy and godfather, my mom's older brother, was dying.  He died a little over a month after the wedding.  He had been diagnosed with cancer only 4 months earlier.  I said goodbye to him for the last time at her wedding.  To lose my mom and Uncle Gordy in such a short time was devastating.  Nothing made sense.

So when I found out that my cousin Moni, Gordy's youngest daughter, was getting married this May I knew, knew I had to go.  My entire family.  Having my kids know my mom's side of the family, ie their Mexican side, is one of the most important things to me.  It is part of their identity.  Even if it meant flying all night, literally flying out one day and flying back the next, little sleep and some serious jet lag, it did not matter.  Hidalgos show up in times of joy and of despair (7 of them flew out for my mom's memorial service less than a week after 9/11.  They were literally some of the first people allowed to fly.  I can' even begin to tell you how much that meant to me.)

Let me tell you what it means to be a Hidalgo through pictures.

To be a Hidalgo means that like with every generation, the girls always outnumber the boys.  Here's Marley, Rachel, Amelia, Xochitl and Annika.  

To be a Hidalgo means to look out for your sibling's kids.  That's my Uncle Ernie, my mom's youngest brother.  He looks out for all of us and Moni even thanked him and her brother Peter (standing next to him-Grandpa Gus once took just Pete and I to Disneyland when we were little and totally indulged us with everything and Pete got sick and threw up all over my Grandpa's Caddy-oh the memories) for "equaling one Gordy" before dancing with them.  And that's my little sis with the super long hair (yeah, not real people.)

Being a Hidalgo boy means looking out for the limited number of them.  That's Mathew, Sandra's son and Drew.  Mathew was dragging Drew around.  That kid has such spirit.  And some serious dance moves!

To be a Hidalgo mom, you have to have that special touch (or curse) of being able to put a man to sleep!  Here I am with my cousin Cynthia's son Jake.  He was so soft and cuddly and for a mere millisecond thought "Maybe I should have a third."  Bad thoughts Steph, bad thoughts.

To be a Hidalgo mom, you must be overprotective of your baby boy.  Look how big my baby boy is.  To think I used to carry him around like Jake.  For the record, I got carded at the wedding; even with my kids next to me.   The bartender wouldn't let me use one of them as my id.

To be a Hidalgo bride, you have got to be stylish yet comfortable.  Check out Moni's shoes.  And, and, my cousin Cynthia saw my new Yeah Steph ran her third marathon pocketbook and said, "When you don't want that anymore, send it to me."  She then proceeded to tell me a story about "I walked into Nordstroms and I told myself, nothing today and then I saw this blue Kate Spade and it talked to me."  OMG, the speaking to pocketbooks is genetic!

To be a Hidalgo/Holland woman, you have got to love life.  Me, my sis and my mini me.  I really hope my mom can see this picture; she would be so happy that we are so happy.

To be a Hidalgo man, you must watch the dancing on the sidelines while drinking a beer.  Here my Uncle Ernie, Cousin Carlos and hopefully soon to be cousin Daniel (gee Daniel, Moni "presented" the bouquet to Sarah; hint, hint) have this down to perfection.

To be a Hidalgo wife, you must be persuasive and at least drag the hubby out on the dance floor for one slow dance.  

But the true test of being a Hidalgo?  The men in my family went up to Drew and told him this; "To be a real Hidalgo Drew you must be able to dance and hold a drink at the same time and not spill."  The kid ran to the bar, got a root beer and demonstrated.  I am proud to say that my boy passed the test!  And I know I'm his mom and everything, but this picture of him?  Total tween.  And totally cute.

To think that one day my son may get married.  And as much as I love you sweetie, you are not living in my basement with your wife.

The Mexification of Mexican Spice

I know, I know, I haven't written the marathon blog yet and honestly I think flashbacks of that day will sneak their way into other entries.  I mean, do I really want to relive my knee not bending for 3 miles?

Let me tell you,  writing Mexican Spice on my jersey; sheer brilliancy.  I got so many comments; "Hey you're looking spicy, Come spice me up, I want some Mexican Spice in my life."  On and on.  I really feel the need to connect with my Mexican side (actually, I'm pretty sure all sides of me are Mexi.)  Maybe because my mom was my biggest link.  Can I just tell you how much progress I have made?  Saturday my mom would have turned 60.  60.  I had been dreading it all week but, when I woke up on Saturday, I didn't realize that was the dreaded day until 2 hours after I was up.  That is huge for me.  I owe this to the fact that I am surrounded by so many fantastic people who make living JOYFUL.

It's really hard being a Mexican in suburban Boston.  Most people mistake me for the cleaning people or the nanny.  Damn, my cleaning crew is Brazilian and my nanny is German.  What was I thinking?  I really don't have that many resources to enrich and educate me in all things mexican.  So I have taken it upon myself to Mexify me.  I've been watching some of Amelia's old Dora The Explorer videos.  Pretty much have "Backpack, backpack" down.  Reruns of The George Lopez show are good for the Spanglish.  I try to hit Chipolte once a week.  I've been trying to learn the Cuchi Cuchi dance by Charo.  Oh, just you wait, that chick Charo is getting a full blog totally dedicated to her.  I have one Mexican friend but truth be told he didn't even know what the chupacabra was (and he calls himself mexican) so now I have appointed myself as his Mexican mentor.  Being the motivated and dedicated learner that he is, sent me a text in spanish and I could only understand half of it.  Some teacher I am.  

There has been a restlessness in me for a few days.  An excitement.  A jolt.  My body can sense that tomorrow is CINCO DE MAYO!!  I got started early with The V Club Fiesta at Rudy's on Friday night.  We had a great turn out and us ladies of CP talked, laughed, drank margaritas and ate.  I love these women for so many reasons, but I love that they embrace the salsa.  Look how good we look all showered and not in wicking clothing.

So just how will Mexican Spice be spending the most important day of her ethnicity?  By attending The Kills (British alt/punk duo) at The Paradise with my new friend Carrie.  That's her at the very end in the black shirt up there.  I think she was thinking the same thing as me, "Should I order another one?"  Editorial note; some of us continued the night at Highland Kitchen where more drinks were indeed ordered.  Michelle and Carrie; you two need to take me back for some pickles.  

I know, I know, The Kills?  Not very Mexican.  Like I care!  Cheap and Cheerful?  Well, I got half of that down.  A part of that song was at the beginning of my greeting on my iPhone.  "I'm bored of cheap and cheerful, I want expensive sadness."  I think some people were annoyed by its length but LISTEN.  I wouldn't just put any old song on there.  I put songs that are good muchas gracias.  I have changed it though.  Get ready to rock to a little Kasabian when it's time to leave a message.  We're going to start our night at The Cantina and the make our way over.  Heres  a little taste of what will be going down in exactly one day.

Adios!