A Change in Heart.

So this year instead of Mexico I have decided to travel.

Travel somewhere new, bold and exciting.

I have it all planned out.

And while sure, I might be doing something out of the ordinary but who ever said that wasn’t a good thing? I am in search for something and I plan to find it. Can’t I just reach my pursuit of happiness? And if so, what is going to happen to me afterwards? I feel like as complex species we spend our life trying to satisfy ourselves and everyone that we do not just think about what really makes us happy.

I just want to find a little escape for a while, forget about life back home, be someone new and bold, confident and beautiful, I mean don’t we all?. Or is that all just cliche?

I think it is one of those characters that is a must to have. Especially to the place I plan on going to.

So fingers crossed and my lips are locked, it is up up and away I go. And by god is it going to be spectacular.


A Change in Heart.

Summer Checklist Update.

So I never really had a summer checklist to begin with and I suppose it was just kept in my head, I had many things in my mind going on, and all these things that I wanted to accomplish. I was in such a crap mood for about a month and now things have really been starting to feel fantastic. I am exploring life as it goes and taking it in slowly. To me that seems like the best way right now. I don’t have any intentions to be going crazy or having those insane summer tales to gossip with friends. So far it has been great.

So here are things I just wanted to share that has been making my summer perhaps one of the best of all my years.

I have aquired the rights to the road! Finally recieved my licsence, although I have to admit it kind of sucks that I will be leaving soon, so really taking in the pleasure of roaming around on my own is not happening.

I am traveling! who doesn’t love to travel during summer? To where? Why Mexico of course! I am excited to be with my family and friends again and now as I am seen as an adult, I am hoping things will be better.

I am meeting many new people! It is always important to remain social and active!

Speaking of Active! I am now back to my goal weight again and feeling more confident than ever!

New Style, New Marz! what is there not to like?

I am trying this new thing here, where I just focus on my life and try to figure things out that will benefit me the most.
I am staritng I suppose with a new state of mind, and taking a break from here.

So here is to a random rant, I felt like sharing to all you fellow readers about my new life that I have been enjoying so effortlessly and never felt better.


Cheers Summer 2012!!


Summer Checklist Update.


I could just be ranting about my thoughts, my day at school, my highschool drama, boyfriend, and whatever else posses a teenager like myself to write. Although lets step around that for a moment. Most people would just sit around and could spend hours just non nonchalantly talking about oh the wonders of the world and all their adventures. Leaving us all with perplexed emotions. would sound cool though right? So where am I going with this? You could be wondering, well no where to be honest. Living it self is already a wonderous adventure, finding it’s meaning and purpose. A very vauge meaning life itself has. So i decided to look it up:




the condition that distinguishes organisms from inorganic objects and dead organisms, being manifested by growth through metabolism, reproduction, and the power of adaptation to environment through changes originating internally.
            How scientific, well of course what can you expect from Dictionary.com? Certainly not a famous quote from Socrates or any of those grand philosophers.
You can travel the whole world and visit any country you want to, but if you never just keep that open mind you won’t learn anything, many can live but never appreciate life.
          Instead of going to a massive tourist attraction, why not visit a small town where culture goes right through the roots of the earth and when you leave, profound thoughts will be retained deep into your cranium.
Of track as usual.
My thoughts were interrupted by absurd noise in the background.
– Mariana
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“Home” Sick.

I get sick too, of living here, I miss Mexico, to me that is my home, I miss my aunts and uncles, my cousins, watching them grow up. I miss the talks we had and the poker nights the laughs, the smells of fruits and clay. Those rainy days and you can just smell the minerals of the dirt. My grandmothers sweet voice and the smell of her cooking. Bruises and scabs from playing soccer outside and wrestling. The market filled with people everyday and the smiles. I miss my own family. The love and warmth that was shed off from them.  My god-mother, I miss her so much, she always helped me out in my time of needs and always talked me through things. I miss the parties and dancing and music everything. I am so tired of being here every day. I just want to leave sometimes, jump on a plane and leave. My family is my home to me, and when you can’t see them everyday, it makes you think what are you missing? I missed my little cousins grow up, change completely. I lost my bond with my older cousins as they moved on with their lives. I grew up, they grew up. That is what life is, and sometimes I am scared I will never see some of them ever again. I miss those moments, when we are all just sitting around candles lit, singing, laughing, talking, playing. Everything to me just freezes, slows down, and I stare and I engulf in every moment of it, because in my mind I want that to last forever. Every face lit up, not by light or anything, just lit with emotions. I think to myself, what a family I have, I couldn’t be anymore grateful. To sum up my rant, I just miss Mexico and my family, my mom does, my dad does, everyone does. And sometimes it kills you a little inside to be apart from something that you can love so much.

“Home” Sick.

Without papers.

I never took an admiration to my parents always thought they just nagged and nagged at me.  Well I have but not in this point of view.
I come from a Mexican decent. And I have always been proud of it, but unlike some families in the state with a Hispanic decent, I was brought up in a house, with the basic luxuries,  cars, a green lawn, toys, warmth, clothing, food,education, my parents put me in many extra activities and hobbies, I guess that whole dream with the white picket fence (except ours is brown).
I never looked before those years though, the struggles my parents endured to move forward, to Americanize and become one with society. Learn another language with not much of an education, leave their families behind, and attempt to make it on their own. It is America, you either make it or you don’t.
I hear so many jokes around my generation, and so many stereo types. It is frustrating and gets me so worked up. They don’t know my past, my parents past my families past. Don’t know what other parents had to go through to get here. People look down upon us sometimes, think that we are just here to steal and take everything. Girls getting pregnant at such young ages, men are just worthless alcoholics.
I know for one thing, neither of my parents came with their papers, didn’t have them. Came here as they would say “perros mojados” (wet dogs) a slang term used for illegal immigrants, of course after time they got their passports and papers.

Dad: “Do you know how I came here? No? Well, I was just about your age maybe a littler older 18 or 19, I told my parents I was going to come here to the states to make more money to send back, to help my other siblings. (now here is where I asked how did you come here) I met with a group near the boarder of Mexico, Coyotes we call them, they are guides That help you cross at night, very dangerous if you are not careful because if you get lost that is it, it is every man for themselves. So they brought us all to another person, we traveled always at night and hid in bushes, holes, anything to cover us up in the day time. Cold nights and very dry. ( here is where I asked, so did you get there?) We got caught near the boarder and we were all just sent back, security wasn’t as heavy as it is today. I was tempted to try again though, so I did, exactly the say way as I had done before, and I made it over. To california it was, and you know how I lived there for a couple months? Down in the valleys, with other immigrants from Mexico, Living in tents and in unbearable weather conditions, cold frosted nights and mornings, living in the fear that we will get caught or maybe killed by others. I guess I am not that great at hiding out *chuckle* I ended up being caught again and this time I wasn’t just sent back. They sent me to jail for three days and then on my way again back to Mexico. ( I know it is not very nice, but I had a bit of a laugh at hearing that my father went to jail, one of the most loving, respectable, well mannered, easy temper men you could ever meet! He doesn’t even look Mexican because where he is from in (the northern part of Mexico) people have fair skin and colored eyes.)
After sending me back, like they say Third time is the charm, I went to New York and found a room up for rent, I roomed with your uncle, that is how your mother and I met actually. I started off taking classes of english at community school, worked shifts at restaurants as bus boy, waiter and eventually staff at cooking. Slowly moved my way up. And whatever money I made I kept a little of it and sent the rest to your Ma Pillita (that is what we call my grandmother). Later on when the building was shut down, I moved into construction, and I have been there ever since, working. That is the only way you can move forward, Education and working hard.

Dad and Duffin

Now the only reason we had gotten into this topic about his whole early life was because he was giving me one of his “school is very important” lecture and how “working hard is the only way you can survive”, while driving home from my music class. I always remembered it, probably one of the greatest stories I ever heard and I wish I had gotten more details.
My mother on the other hand is a bit vague, I never heard her tell me herself but when I went to Mexico I discovered so many things about my mother’s past from family and relatives that I never even knew about. I suppose that is the great thing when you travel. Learn not only what is around you but about the people that have shaped you into who you are.

Mom: She was only 16 years old when she flew over, no papers, nothing. She used a fake passport that a family friend had made for her, who also agreed to fly over with her to meet up with her brother, who later on returned to Mexico, due to the lack of jobs. She went to California and took care of children as a nanny and assisted in the kitchen with cooking. (my mom now has her own catering business, and let me tell you she is one great cook). Later after she moved to New York and worked as a cleaning maid and a care-taker.
My grandmother was so upset and worried for my mother, hoping well

1. That she would not be deported back.
2. Not marrying a gringo hahaha

Mom 🙂

She was very thrilled with my father though, called her a lucky woman to have a man like him in her life. 🙂

That is all I got from my grandmother before she was off to feed her birds and tend her garden.

In other words, my parents stories made me realize that I am lucky to have such history and culture behind me. That everything they have done is for the best of my future, they didn’t want my sister and I to go through the same things they did. They came here with nothing and slowly they were able to grow and turn that nothing into a home and a loving family.
So thank you mom and dad, for everything you guys have done for me.

Without papers.

Suffering = happy highschool?

I have heard people say that “the meaning of life is suffering”

okay sure I suppose that can make sense if you want to go all Marcel Proust.

Though here is another thing I have heard

“High school are the best years of your life you will come to live.”

So, if that is the case with high school and its connection to life, would that mean that you suffer through highschool?

That high school are your prime suffering years?

It’s just one of those “1 am” thoughts you get.

– Marz

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Suffering = happy highschool?