Denver, CO

What can I say about Denver besides the fact I entered the city with a predisposed sentiment of hostility? The true American Midwest frightened me; the weather was on the cusp of its arid fall season, thanks to its pivotal location between the High Plaines and Rocky Mountains; the food was urbanized by everything having an egg thrown in it or some Mexican dish containing an unnecessary amount of black beans; the Downtown area was quiet, maybe just a little too quiet for my liking and the people were friendly, maybe just a little too friendly.

Denver, in all of its autumn colors of pine greens and maple leafs’ yellows, was at its best. The air was crisp and the sun shone from the mountain tops so brightly, teasing of its last few hours before the storm. Snow hugged buildings like fleece on a winter coat but  transformed into a blanket of ice the next day, covering every inch and crevice of the city.

I moved through LoDo like a token on a game board, stopping at each block and questioning the Coloradian lifestyle. Each step was another battle between myself and the snowflakes bombarding my face. I couldn’t move any longer, my four layers of clothing was defenseless and I was succumbing to defeat of my first snowfall. My company was frolicking in the middle of the streets while I was pressed against the sidewalk, desperately looking for coverage from the snow.

It was obvious that I was out of my element.

To further embarrass myself, I was the obnoxious L.A. fan in Bronco Country. It was me against the entire population of Denver. Those who were not hiking or skiing were at Mile High stadium, those who were not cheering for the Rams, were trying to be smart with me. Although I was instigating every time Todd Gurley rushed into end zone, to my defense I shouldn’t be taken anywhere in public because si ya saben como mi pongo pa que mi invitan.

Denver, Colorado; a place I would probably have never visited if it wasn’t the home to my boyfriend’s and his mom’s NFL team. It was cold and country but in its corners I found bits and pieces that suited my likings.

My few days in the Midwest was as to be expected; In Denver’s 20 degree weather I danced on the bar top of Coyote Ugly (and kicked a drink in a guy’s face), fell asleep to a Jazz band performing outside of the Denver Performing arts complex across from our hotel, met Eric Dickerson during the game’s tailgate, and patronized the mother-son duo for being fans of the losing team.

The city was a mile high, and so was I.

 

Eurovision

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Petit Palace Boqueria Hotel Barcelona

Six months after I left Spain I was on the next 12 hour flight to Barcelona. I was so homesick for Europe, for countries that spoke different languages, for a time zone that I was never quite able to adjust to. So there I was again, March 2017, my second Euro trip but this time with another.

I planned the majority of my vacation as a solo traveler but three weeks prior to my departure date my ex-boyfriend joined the ride. At an incredibly awkward time in my life where I wasn’t ready for literally anything and where this was the first time we had spoken to each other in months, we spent 24 days together traveling throughout Europe.

The trip was planned around specific dates; Las Fallas in Valencia, Real Madrid fútbol game at the Santiago Bernabéu, Drake concert at the Mercedes-Benz Arena in Berlin and whatever museums, monuments, and structures I could fit in between.

The whole trip in itself was actually a lot of drama considering you could have cut the tension between my ex and I with a baby’s spoon. Anyways, back to traveling.

Continue reading “Eurovision”

The Summer Abroad

IMG_1726.jpgIn 2016 I spent seven weeks in Valencia, Spain for an internship I found through a travel website. It was my first time in Europe, first time traveling alone, and first of many other things.

That summer was more than a storybook movie. It was my fantasy, a dream turned into a reality. During the week I interned at a Spanish tourism blog translating articles to English and created new content for its sister website. But on the weekends I found myself chasing after Spanish men and whirl-winding through the callejones of Spain’s third largest city.

I fell in love with the country. My Spanish love affair betrayed my Mexican heritage but I couldn’t resist the castellano lisp, the jamón serrano or the never ending days at the Playa Maravillosa.

In my subpar Spanish I flirted with the common Spaniard; fair skin, light eyes, combover haircut, and of course my favorite, bearded. I admit, I played my role as La Latina/ La Morena, but it only made things more exciting. A 5’7″ curvaceous woman with long, thick brown hair and brown eyes was different to their European beauty standard. Hailing from Los Angeles was also a plus.

Since I didn’t have friends in Spain I began using the locals to show me around. In my adventures I found myself meeting a group of five madrileños in their mid-20’s visiting Valencia for the weekend. We met at the port and they included me in their botellón at the beach where we exchanged drinks for information about our countries. Our night began after midnight at the club High Cube and I danced in the tropic heat to Celia Cruz’s La Vida Es Un Carnival. The nightlife was a creature in itself; mystic, nocturnal, and sensuous. In the eight stops it took returning to my apartment in Benimaclet, I saw the sun rise on the horizon.

That weekend they invited me to the rest of their activities. I judged a competition on who had the best English (none of them did), I watched them race in the sand and saw half of them fall flat on their faces, I listened to them speak about their lives back in Madrid, and I shared an afternoon ice cream with them at the beach.

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When they left, I felt like I had lost the closest friends I made on the trip.

That summer was a true summer to remember. I left pieces of my heart transiting through Valencia and Madrid to Barcelona and Paris. I was face to face with Diego Velázquez’s ‘Las Meninas’ one weekend then witnessing the most beautiful landscape at Park Güell the next. I lost myself inside The Louvre and was found again in the middle tier of the Eiffel Tower. I dove into the Mediterranean Ocean during the Noche de San Juan and walked passed by the Estadio Mestalla everyday back home from work. The Gran Fira de Valencia marked the end of my summer in Spain, but it was just the beginning of my worldwide travels.

Hill St & Broadway

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After spending the holidays with my lover, I decided to spend some time with my lover of 12 years. So, my best friend Stephanie and I left the suburbs and trekked to the city where my heart longs to be, Los Angeles.

I spent the day daydreaming about a fabulous life in downtown, walking in my 6 inch Timberland Glancy boots, repping my giant gold hoop earrings, eating at the Grand Central Market during the lunch rush hour.

While enjoying my seafood paella I realized that three weeks into 2018 my personal goals have never been more adamant. Stephanie and I made a list of resolutions for us to have and to meet for the new year: to loyal friendships and relationships, to career growth, to new travels, and to a bigger wallet.

Already, I feel something inside me changing. I feel celestial but also earthly, like the moon guiding the current of the ocean and the waves creeping back and forth onto the shore. Like I’m finding the happy medium with the person I’m becoming.

I found solace in Amy Winehouse’s lyrics and admiration in Frida Kahlo’s photography. I also have a regeneration in self help using cooking and exercise as my therapy sessions. 

I worry less about what my significant other does on social media and have little to no worry at all about his past relationships. I’ve advanced in not jumping the gun when it comes to dating. Taking things slow and at my own pace. In return, I’ve found my heart growing in all different directions.

If 2016 was the “Year of Yes” and 2017 was the “Year of Uncertainty,” then 2018 is the “Year of Self.”

Making lists and writing things down help organize my thoughts so here are just some things I’ve jotted down for 2018.

-Plan a trip to NYC (Xmas time or earlier, watch a game at MSG or Yankee Stadium, drink a Manhattan in Manhattan)

-Buy a Nikon camera for blog

-Plan a trip to Vegas for Cinco de Mayo or go to Miami for my birthday

-Write about makeup and politics and how they’re intertwined; write a piece for Los Angeles Affairs

-Learn how to make paella and attempt to make it once

-Stop saying “lol” in texts

Fin!