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October 31, 2005

Happy Mexicans (in costumes)

Happy Halloween!

As promised, pictures from the festivities at the Killa Bee’s party.

I called my sister, Lori, while I was at the MAC counter in Nordstrom’s. Her boyfriend, Mikey, answered and said she couldn’t come to the phone because she was doing her hair. I expected something like she usually does, but the curls look great. When I first saw her, she was wearing a long coat, which made her costume look even more stripper-ish. She bought her USO Girl costume at a place called Leg Up, which in her words, “sells clothes for whores.” She’s lucky my dad didn’t see her leave the house.

I suggested to Lori that if she dressed as Captain Hook, Mikey could be Smee, her bumbling sidekick. I also mentioned something about a belly and how Mikey has one. She thought my suggestion was mean, but Adrian couldn’t stop laughing. They could have done the Peter Pan group costume pretty well. I guess Mikey’s dirty mechanic was in honor of the NASCAR mechanics at the pitstops (he’s a big fan). The gloves he’s wearing have neat built in mini-flashlight. He dirtied up his face with makeup from Lori. Everyone knows mechanics are dirty.

My younger brother, Adrian, and his girlfriend Cindy dressed up as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell. My mom made their costumes. I think it turned out great since Adrian is both mischievous and boyish. Cindy is tiny like a fairy (about 4′11″). He had to leave a little after 11 to get Cindy home before her midnight curfew. If there was a costume contest, I think they could have won for cutest couple.

My cousin, Nancy, proves that you can have a low-budget, last-minute costume and still look great. She wore cat ears with a choker, black dress, fishnets, and black flats. There were other women at the party wearing cat ears too, but as Nancy noticed, they were all dressed in regular clothing. She was the cutest cat there, hands down, and could have been one of the girls in the movie Josie and the Pussycats.

On a sad note, Nancy’s costume might have been in memory of her kitten, Muumuu. She told me that a few days ago her 10-year old sister had found Muumuu dead in the neighbor’s yard. The culprit? The neighbor’s Rottweiler. As you would imagine, Valerie is still traumatized.

Rene and Veronica had the best couples costume at the party. It might have not been that great if Rene didn’t add his usual eccentric charm to the costume. He added facial hair, fake teeth, and painted his face. He also had some rather primitive dance moves.

I was a little surprised to know that my cousin Ernie was coming to the party too. It’s been a while since I’ve partied with him. I was glad to see him and even more glad that he was careful with his hook while he danced to rock en español tunes.

Did you think I’d actually forget to post pictures of me in my costume? My mom made my “sunflower princess” costume after I drew a picture for her of what I envisioned. We bought fabric, a headband and several fake sunflowers. I helped to glue “leaves” and sunflowers onto the long blouse. We used the headband and some posterboard to glue fake sunflowers on as a crown of sorts. I ditched the matching green pants my mom made because it was just too much green. When I tried on the costume, Adrian made fun of me too. I wore tights instead so I wouldn’t look like Kermit My sister, Lori, helped with makeup and I was set.

For more pictures, check the Halloween flickr set.

Filed under: Familia | POSTED BY cindylu AT 2:48 am | 14 Comments

October 26, 2005

Roybal finally rests

The trouble with actually being studious, not having a TV, and limiting online time to email and other non-news related sites, is that I miss out on important news like the passing of former Congressman and city Councilman Edward P. Roybal. My main news source right now is blogs and NPR.

From today’s obituary in the LA Times:

In 1993, Roybal told The Times that at his first City Council meeting [in 1949], he was introduced as “our new Mexican councilman who also speaks Mexican.”

“My mission was immediately obvious,” he said later. “I’m not Mexican. I am a Mexican American. And I don’t speak a word of Mexican. I speak Spanish.”

It became his role, he said, to educate his fellow public officials about Latinos and to pay special attention to what he felt were the long-neglected needs of his largely Latino constituencies.

The whole obituary is worth reading and getting a sense of all the work Roybal has did in his many years as a public official and as a public health advocate. It’s amazing to think that many of the issues he worked on as a Councilman in the 1950s and then as a Congressman, such as police brutality and immigration, are still problematic. For anyone from LA who has studied the history of Chicana/o politicians, there is no way to avoid the impact of Ed Roybal on the growing political power of Latinos.

Que descanse en paz.

Filed under: Política, Los Angeles | POSTED BY cindylu AT 11:04 pm | 6 Comments

Mil palabras: humo entre amigos

Walk quietly, don’t make a sound / Believe in what you’re doing / I know we can’t be wrong
“A matter of time” by Los Lobos

Study hall as an undergraduate used to mean going to a crowded and noisy room in the student union. The only reason I went was to pass notes to my friends and flirt with the guy I liked. I’d only get studying done because I had to be there for a few hours and the study hall monitor shushed me for too much whispering. At midnight, hours after the last bus had left the UCLA transit center for Palms, I’d take the study hall van back to my apartment in Palms.

Study hall as a graduate student has taken on a whole different meaning. Yeah, I do get things done, but not without lots of discussion and a fair amount of smoking. Each time I go, I expect to read one fourth of what I’d read if I was at my apartment, yet learn four times more.

Photo: the top of Garu’s hookah, March 1, 2005. I haven’t smoked in months, mainly because I’ve been sick.

Filed under: Amigos, Fotos | POSTED BY cindylu AT 2:17 am | 7 Comments

October 25, 2005

A sobering anniversary

“You know, today is your dad’s sobriety anniversary,” my mom mentioned to me as I glued fake sunflowers onto a brown headband for my costume.

That’s right, I thought. October 23rd just comes and goes now without much fanfare, AA chips, or even a “birthday” cake. My dad doesn’t even mention it anymore. I take for granted the fact that he’s been sober since 1989, but I know it’s something I should be thankful for on a daily basis.

I don’t feel much different about his sobriety than I did when I answered a friend’s questions he has posed after writing about how alcohol had played a role in his life. Jason asked, “Do you share any of the alcohol exposure stories I have mentioned? How has alcohol shaped your relations with any one person/family member? How harshly do you judge the people in your life who have not been taught how to claim a personal victory over their drug of choice?”

I responded at the old blog and in an email to him (I made a few edits).

In the fall of fourth grade, my father finally broke down, admitted that he was powerless over alcohol and checked into a treatment center. For a whole month, he stayed at the rehab center away from family and went through treatment in order to become sober.

While he was gone, it was just my mom and my three siblings at home. We’d visit the sterile hospital on the weekends. I didn’t understand much then what he was going through. I didn’t comprehend how alcohol had affected my father, my family and myself. At 9, terms like sobriety and chemical dependency don’t make much sense.

But I was a curious kid. I’d ask lots of questions during our weekly visits to the rehab center in Costa Mesa, an hour away from our home. When he finally returned, I read everything I could get my hands on that would tell me more about what it was that my father was going through.

I knew my father was going to be different when he left treatment, but I didn’t know how.

Sixteen years later, my father is still sober and I’ve learned much more about alcoholism and how it has shaped me and my family. I interviewed my mother and brother a four years ago on how they coped with my father as an alcoholic. It was then that I truly learned how it had affected my family.

I used to think I was so different from all the other kids I grew up around. I didn’t know anyone else who’s father or mother was an alcoholic. I rarely even talked about it with my siblings. I found out what I knew through my father and his AA magazines. When I got to college, I found that a number of friends had similar experiences. I saw how alcoholism could have vast and profound effects on their lives. Most of their experiences were worse. Their fathers didn’t stop drinking when they were still kids.

I feel lucky. Growing up with an alcoholic father — one who has been in recovery for most of my life — has made me more cautious with alcohol. My faith was strengthened. I found new respect for the father I always admired. I realized that he was one of the few lucky ones to make it past 100 days, 1 year, 10 years or other milestones of sobriety. I learned from him, and he learned from me. From that point on I really started to grow up. I realized that my life wasn’t perfect and neither was my family. I began to learn more about my father as more than just the man I called dad. He opened up to his kids and showed signs of weakness. Everything changed from that point on, and I’m thankful for it.

To this day, I still think of a lot of problems in terms of how my father viewed his alcoholism and AA philosophy. I look at what I can control and what is out of my control. I try to let some things go and just put them in God’s hands. I say the Serenity Prayer, it helps.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Amen.

Filed under: Familia, Cuentos | POSTED BY cindylu AT 1:47 am | 8 Comments

October 23, 2005

20 years of Halloween costumes

From a young age, Halloween was always a big deal in my family. My mom is quite adept with the sewing machine, plus she’s pretty damn creative. To this day, we still have a veliz (suitcase) under her bed full of old costumes. We recycle, let family friends borrow them and so on, so a costume like the scarecrow has a lot of life to it.

A selection of some of my costumes over the years (for a slideshow of other costumes, click here).

1985, kindergarten

At a young age I embraced the indigenous in me, and Danny embraced the mummy in him from our roots in Guanajuato (they have mummies there!). Later, that burlap sack I was wearing was recycled for a few more costumes for Lori.

1986, first grade

I look so miserable as Pippi Longstocking (the first time I made my hair a different color) for a few reasons:

I really wanted to be Rainbow Brite (my friend Karisa did get to go as Rainbow Brite)
In order to make my braids stick straight out, my mom braided wire from coat hangers into my hair. It didn’t really hurt, but later at the crowded Halloween fair at my elementary school, I kept poking kids. All I heard was “ow!”
I didn’t look like Pippi, nor did I know who she was. I would have rather gone as La Chilindrina.

1987, second grade

I got to be a witch, doesn’t everyone? I don’t know where my hat was when I took this picture, but I actually really like it since my hair looks that messy a lot these days, hence my self-imposed nickname, “la greñuda.”

1988, third grade

I also embraced the duality of gender at a young age. I still talk about this costume to this day, not only did it win me the blue ribbon in the annual costume contest (based on grade levels), but it was also extremely creative. The boxer, Pinnochio, and Cleopatra had nothing on me. The dress was recycled from my First Holy Communion dress — which was also my flower girl dress for my Tía Nelly’s wedding — and the suit belonged to my cousin Danny. My mom did all the cutting and sewing. I loved it.

Skipping a whole lot of years…

In those years I was a cat, clown, heart, and lots of other things. I know one year I wore a dress I used in foklórico dancing from the Mexican state of Jalisco and another year I wore the manta shirt and pants peasants wear with the viejito mask.

1996, 11th grade

Bananas, in pajamas are coming down the stairs… My mom made the gloves and headpiece out of yellow feltish material and she made a set of pajamas matching the doll I have pinned to me. I painted an old pair of sneakers yellow and went to school like this. I think some people thought the yellow headpiece resembled the white sheets of the klan too much. Oops.

1997, 12th grade

There I am with Julia as a sweet princess. Once again, I recycled the dress I wore for my quinceañera a couple of years before and made the cone shaped hat. I felt very pretty that day… and I know my crush noticed me at the Halloween fair.

Skipping two years…

Everyone in my family has dressed up as a scarecrow

Mom and Lori as scarecrows, early ’90s

I had to dress up my first year at UCLA (1998) ’cause I was in band and we needed costumes for our half time show at the Homecoming game. I dressed up as a scarecrow and performed at the Rose Bowl to “Thriller.” Oh yeah, the UCLA cheerleaders really liked my costume. They thought I looked cute (this costume is always a crowd pleaser).

2000, 3rd year

Due to lots of procrastination, my costume sucked this year. My friends Victor and Ralph held an ’80s theme Halloween party, so I tried to be Punky Brewster. I just looked like I didn’t match.

2001, 4th year

Someone suggested I go as Appolonia from Purple Rain or as one of the Disney princesses but the idea of dressing in lingerie or doing the cute princess thing again didn’t appeal to me. So, I went as La Adelita, or a soldadera from the Mexican Revolution circa 1910. I borrowed stuff from my mom, Tía Luisa, and bought the cartridges at a local costume shop. The baby I’m carrying was an added bonus thanks to Pato (Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas). That year, all four of us in the apartment drssed up in good costumes for a friend’s party. Ome was a vampiress and Vane was Peter Pan (or was it Robin Hood?).

2003

I was working at the SRC at this time and the four other directors and I tried to do a theme costume. The only thing we could think of that came in groups of 5 was a basketball team and that wasn’t going to fly. Eventually, we decided we’d dress up and wear fancy coats that we’d never wear to our casual office. It worked out pretty well and we were just “too cool for the SRC.”

Did you hear the one about the witch and lil' red riding hood?

2004, 1st year in PhD program

Little Red Riding Hood. I carried a basket with candy and condoms — something for everyone.

2005, 2nd year in PhD program

My mom and I worked on my sunflower costume today. Adrian, the little brother, made fun of me wearing it, which is pretty understandable because I did look silly. I will post a picture, but for now you can get a picture of me in the boy’s Killa Bee costume, complete with Wu Tang Clan emblem. Fun times.

Filed under: Cuentos | POSTED BY cindylu AT 9:24 pm | 14 Comments

October 21, 2005

Higher education not higher fees

Parece mentira que entre tanta gente en esta ciudad, no tenga a nadie con quien compartir la vista desde mi casa este sábado.
“Mediodía” por Café Tacuba

I stayed home from school today. I missed a meeting with Fabian Nuñez, the speaker of the California Assembly. But it’s okay, because other students went and probably did a good job of urging him to go to the UC Regents meeting next month and vote against yet another fee increase for graduate, professional, and undergraduate students.

I was telling Isa that we did our undergrad education at a good time. When we started, California had a lot of money in revenue and an economy that was doing pretty well. That meant that for the first time in years, the UC Regents not only froze fees (tuition), but they also rolled them back a bit. True, it still cost about $13-14,000 a year to go to school and live on campus, but it looked like a big difference compared to the cost of attending that other school across town where tuition, room & board, supplies and other living expenses were about $30,000. I still took out student loans, but it was the smallest part of my financial aid package, which covered all my costs. I had a Cal Grant pay for my fees — there is no such thing as tuition in California — and a Pell Grant pay for other expenses such as books and housing. My parents actually did not contribute too much because of our family income. By my second year, I started working about 10 hours a week at a workstudy job. I also got a scholarship or two. Education was affordable for me and my family, but I still came out with some debt. Education expenses remained pretty constant for my 4 years as an undergrad, but now they’ve more than doubled.

A first year student living in on-campus housing can expect to pay $22,653. That’s still half of what first years would pay at that other school, $44,582 ($32,008 for tuition alone).

Now, I’m a graduate student, and my fees are even higher. Last year, I had a research assistantship which included fee remission and a salary. This year, I don’t have that but just found out that I will have about $15,500 from my department for year of engagement funding. That may have been cool in 1998 when it would have covered my costs, but when my educational costs are esimated at $27,157 ($9,000 for fees), it still sucks. I’m just glad I’m not a student in one of the professional graduate programs (law, medicine, dentistry, nursing, public policy, public health, and film & television). Their fees were increased even more. So much for the advantage of an affordable… or even free (!) UC education.

Yeah, I know you’re probably thinking what I’m thinking. If costs at two major LA universities have gone from $13,000 to $22,000 and $31,000 to $44,500 in seven years, what’s it going to look like when we we have children?

Filed under: Política, Escuela | POSTED BY cindylu AT 8:48 pm | 11 Comments

October 19, 2005

Miercoles de mil palabras

Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick
“Just Like Heaven” by the Cure

The past few Wednesdays have generally sucked. I have class from 9-11, then a meeting for work from 11-1, class from 1-5 and afterwards some meeting for GSA. Then I go home and try to prepare for the class I dislike the next day. So, since Wednesdays this quarter seem to epitomize the nature of “hump day,” I thought I’d post something that makes me happy.

For the past few days I’ve been sick, it’s been raining, and I’ve felt pretty grumpy. VR always cheers me up. Who wouldn’t be happy to have a dog jumping up and down as soon as he sees you walk in the house? I took this picture of him on September 4th, the day after my birthday.

My mom, dad, grandparents and I ate leftover cake and icecream beneath the shady mulberry tree (la mora) in the front yard. Of course, VR came out to join us and got what ever icecream or cake crumbs fell from our plates. He rolled over on his back to have his belly scratched, but rather than comply, I took a picture.

I miss VR, summer, and just relaxing under la mora con mis abuelitos.

Filed under: Fotos | POSTED BY cindylu AT 1:41 am | 13 Comments

The inquisition

Words are flowing out / Like endless rain into a papercup
They slither while they pass / They slip away across the universe
“Across the Universe” by the Beatles

How do you get rid of a cold — not just any cold, the kind that makes your whole body ache and makes you sneeze 4 times in a row?

When someone tells you, “wow, you look nice today!” does that mean that every other day you look like crap?

Why does asking for help make me feel like I’m inadequate?

Should I start writing the daily haiku again?

Filed under: Randomness | POSTED BY cindylu AT 1:15 am | 2 Comments

October 17, 2005

Disgruntled

Sleeping is giving in, so lift those heavy eyelids.
“Rebellion (Lies)” by the Arcade Fire

Last night after getting back sick, tired and a little nauseous from SF I realized I had forgotten my toothbrush in Chispa’s bathroom. Now, I do have extra toothbrushes, but neither one is at my apartment. So, when I went to the store to pick up a few necessities, I also headed over to my friend Garu’s house to catch up.

Outside it was raining — and actual rain, now just a few drops falling from the sky — with lightning flashes and noisy thunder. Inside, we were talking about how we’re unhappy in our programs, how we don’t think a career in academia is what we want to devote our lives to, and and just catching up. I told Garu that I didn’t want to have a 15-page long impressive CV full of publications and key roles in professional associations. Sure that’s great, but when I look at my advisor, I also see a successful middle-aged woman who comes home to a great dog, a nice home and not much else.

“I just want to pop out babies” I blurted out.

Garu laughed and said, “you’re cute.” He wasn’t just being fascetious, he understood me — he usually does. “I want to have kids too,” he said. “I want a family… a happy family.”

We’re going through this mid 20s slump. We both feel uncomfortable in academia. He dislikes it even more than he did last year, and I’m struggling to keep up my motivation after I found out that my funding situation this year sucks. We decided that we need a support group. Last year, he was one of my main sources of support. Later, I got to know and trust a few others in the department, but Garu has been one of the most consistent friends.

I stayed at his apartment for a bit. Outside the rain kept falling and flashes from lightning lit up the sky for an instant. I drank mint tea and avoided the hookah since it’s probably not a good thing when I’m sick. When I left I felt better, even if we didn’t come to solutions. It’s odd, but knowing someone else is as unhappy or more in Moore makes me feel better.

Filed under: Randomness, Escuela, Amigos | POSTED BY cindylu AT 4:57 pm | 10 Comments

San Francisco treats

On Thursday night while I was packing and watching Mean Girls I smiled. It wasn’t because I find the movie hilarious or because packing is that pleasurable. I simply smiled because the thought that crossed my mind at that moment was, ‘I’m going to San Francisco.’

San Francisco has been my happy place for the last four years. As a kid, I had no love for the city. After a camping trip to Lake Tahoe, my family spent the night at a motel in SF. When we awoke in the morning, we found the doors to our red van wide open. While we slept, thieves stole credit cards, my dad’s guitar, and other items we had taken camping. As a 7 year old kid, I wasn’t concerned about the missing credit cards. I secretly hoped that the thieves didn’t take my toys.

I didn’t return to SF until fall 2001. And that was when I fell in love with the city… and a little more. I was hooked on the city and a boy. Even though he was almost 500 miles away, I didn’t mind making the trip to see him. The city just made me happy, and it was more than just the guy. I know, because even after we broke up, the city still made me feel different. And it was a good different. All the drama from LA was out of my mind and the air felt cleaner. I like that there is so much in the city I still need to explore, but also enough that is familiar to me.

I tend to romanticize the city, but it’s still a nice place to be, too bad it was only for the weekend and for UCSA business.

Filed under: Randomness | POSTED BY cindylu AT 1:53 am | 7 Comments

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