Lots of butter

While the lakers were losing, I was eating some divine cake. Wow, that cake was good. It was so good that my stomach is pushing its way outta my jeans yearning for more. On the way home, some foolio in a big white mercedes tried to kill me by swerving outta the left lane to make a right turn in front of me and I saw my kid's life flash before her eyes. Griffith park was real nice tonight - and we played hide and seek for a few minutes after watching the one family who was not watching the laker game fly a kite. And now, Sunday night, I have to write a poem, dedicated to a girl who knows who she is. k?

Ode to my homegirl:

there's this girl that i like to talk to

cuz she has a voice of a fine cholita

she likes to talk about all the boys

and no her name ain't juanita

she likes the boys some old some young

and makes the shy ones stutter

she even makes the hearts of the ugly ones

flitter fly and flutter

i can't wait to hear that cholita voice soon

to hear all that she has to say

cuz without this lady (and her homegirl too)

how boring would be my day

Tired

If you know me at all, you know why I'm tired. Even though the day and the whole past week of preparations for today are over, I'm still exhausted just thinking about what goes into making a party possible.

What happened today though, needed to happen, and by God my Mother better be real happy, cuz I am. 

Effie finally got the chamuco outta her. (Chamuco=devil)

The priest rubbed the oil on her forehead, and rinsed the pink lemonade lollipop stickiness out of her hair while he washed out her original sin. It was really beautiful, and I'm glad she's now one of us. We accept her we accept her  - one of us! one of us!

In all seriousness - it was a great day, for God, Effie, my mom, me, and if you were with us eating garlic rolls and drinking beer, thank you.