Birthday Activity Page by Rio Yañez

I think Rio could have found cooler people for that trivia section. I share a birthday with with tía Luisa, Sara Ramirez, Hideo Nomo, Eldridge Cleaver and Queen Rania of Jordan.

Also, on this day in 1985, Richard Ramirez, the Night Stalker, was captured by residents in Boyle Heights as he tried to steal a car. Yeah, it’s creepy, but it’s East LA and Chicano centric.

I love looking at my site statistics. That’s how I find out someone linked to me (WordPress isn’t always updated) or that someone in Arizona spent an inordinate amount of time going through the archives.

The best part of stats is the search words. I’m surprised at the words or combination of words that most people type in to a search engine. While most people get here through something expected like funny Chicana/o t-shirts or costumes, there are some words that just make me scratch my head.

This week I got: super hot Chicana p*** (rhymes with corn)

Really now? I mean, I may be super. I’ve been called hot once or twice. I’m definitely a Chicana, no doubt there. But p***? Dude must have been disappointed (yeah, I know my gender bias is showing). All he got here was a question of the week post on telenovelas (see the comments).

La Pregunta: Do you get puzzling searches?

I hate the pressure of birthdays.

Everyone asks, “what are you doing?” as if you’re supposed to have an elaborate, day, evening, weekend, week or even month planned. (Side note: August has been pretty awesome so far.)

I always give in to the pressure, even if it’s tough to plan a big party over Labor Day weekend. I can’t just let the day pass like it’s any other Sunday. It’s the 31st! I have to celebrate it if only for that reason.

I decided on Wednesday to hold a BBQ/tardeada at my parent’s house. Maybe I’ll pass out last year’s birthday activity sheet made by Rio. Sadly, I won’t have a bouncy castle. Sorry kids.

Invitation by DB. He’s a [patient] Photoshop pro.

I went to the DMV today to renew my driver’s license. I could have avoided the trip, but I wanted to take a new picture. Along with a new picture, I also changed my address. My driver’s license has always listed my address as [redacted] Street in Hacienda Heights. I never got around to changing it because I assumed I’d move back after college.

Six years after college, I’m still in the same apartment I moved to eight years ago. Even though I’ve been on my own for a little while, I still had to check with my dad about changing my address. See, I’ve never had my my own car insurance. My dad does that, and I pay him every month for my share of the premium. I wanted to know if changing my address would increase my insurance rates. I figured driving in LA would riskier than driving in the suburbs.

“Probably,” he said. He didn’t tell me what to do, but he seemed to lean toward not changing my address.

I made up my mind hastily.

“I’m going to change it,” I told him. “I’m never going to live there again.”

Partly inspired by this exchange between Andrew Largeman and Sam in Garden State:
Largeman: You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn’t really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone.
Sam: I still feel at home in my house.
Largeman: You’ll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day and it’s just gone. And you can never get it back. It’s like you get homesick for a place that doesn’t exist. I mean it’s like this rite of passage, you know. You won’t have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it’s like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that’s all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.

Summer concert season continued last week with the much-anticipated Café Tacuba show at the Greek Theater. As soon as I heard about the show, I purchased pre-sale pit tickets. I’ve been to the Greek Theatre twice before. And although it’s a nice venue for a summer night, I know I prefer to see los Tacubos in a smaller, more intimate setting.

More photos and short review, highlights, lowlights, and setlist after the jump.
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Teacups at Disneyland

I had some technical difficulties this time around, but still was able to keep the one picture per day thing going thanks to DB and PhotoBooth.

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I’ve been craving chocolate cake (with or without flan on top, fine by me) or cupcakes. And yes, that might be a hint.

La Pregunta: Do you have a sweet tooth? What’s your weakness?

¡Vamos, Henry!

I was in Mexico during the 2004 Athens Olympics. It was strange. Rather than have several athletes considered favored in marquee sports, Mexico only had a few. I was so used to seeing the US on top of the podium and in the medal standings. But Mexico, not so much.

In 2004, the hype was all about Ana Guevara, a sprinter favored to win the 400 meter dash. While out dancing one Friday night, everyone in the club stopped to watch one of the preliminary heats. Everyone cheered loudly and ordered celebratory shots when Ana won that heat. On the day of the final in 400 meter, my cousin woke me up cheers of “¡Vamos, Ana!” Almost all Olympics commercials featured Ana. It was pretty exciting. But Ana didn’t win gold, she won the silver. Belem Guerrero, from Ciudad Neza south of Mexico City, surprised everyone with a silver in cycling’s point’s race. Finally, the last two silver and bronze medals were won by siblings Oscar Salazar and Iridia Salazar in taekwondo.

I wondered if Mexicans watched athletes like Oscar de la Hoya (aka the Golden Boy) and if they claimed them. I wonder if Mexicans will claim Henry Cejudo, the son of undocumented immigrants from Mexico City. He was born in LA and moved around with his mother and siblings.

Henry just won the gold medal in the 121-pound freestyle wrestling event. He reminds me a little of Oscar de la Hoya, especially posing with the US flag draped around his shoulders.

Will he be the new Golden Boy?

Photo credit: Elizabeth Dalziel/AP

You see all this family and community energy, time, money, resources mobilized around the young girl for this party. It should not be about just one night, but about the girl and what happens afterward in her life.
– Bisli in Once Upon a Quinceañera: Coming of Age in the USA by Julia Alvarez

When I think about my quinceañera now, I don’t think too much about the party or the Mass. Sure those things were nice, but without seeing the video or flipping through a photo album, I forget a lot of the details and how I felt. Naturally, the more vivid memories come from all the time preparing for the big day with the help of lots of family and friends (a do-it-yourself quinceañera, if you will).

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Let’s see how long I can continue the photo a day project.

August 1: Alfred and I had finally had the chance to resume our Friday evening outings. This time around we caught the end of Manny Ramirez’s debut with the Dodgers at a local Mexican/Salvadorean restaurant, Gloria’s. Afterwards, we caught up at the recently opened Father’s Office location near my apartment. They have tons of beers on tap. It was tough to choose, so I let Alfred pick an Alaskan White Ale for me.
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