Closing a Door...

...."it seemed endless, the journey seemed painful, closure had to come..."

It has been said, that what you leave behind not on your own accord can torment you and draw you back. It is as if your body wonders an endless almost dark tunnel of uncertainty and insecurity.  Here's that story, an episode of that moment in the life of a young girl who lost her smile and obtained an insecure form of living.

She left.  Walking out of the only world and life she had ever known.  Her feet walked the trails one last time, her hands caressed the twigs of happiness and her eyes absorbed and captured the images of the eternal picturesque scenes of her future life.

It was the last time she felt the pain of a thorn stab her fingers, it was the last time her nostrils would sneeze the moist scent of the succulent smells of her world, the dirt of the callejones, the pollen of all tiguilote trees, the smell of every mango and fruit's that emerged the nectar of life, the marañones, the jocotes.  She did not realize how much she would miss those in the next life.

Her gaze was lost into the llanos of color and wild adventures of her time there.  One last time she ran her fingers across the Escovilla plants, the ones she used to tie together and make mines for the cousins to fall, the one plant she used to cut to make a broom....that small flower that impregnated her mind with an image of love.

She touched her silk blonde hair, wiped a few tears, took a deep breath and turned....walking into darkness into the new life of darkness, coldness, and empty.

Her thin legs and arms could have hugged on that Guayaba tree, she could've climbed that mango tree, yet they were no fort to protect her.  She had everything to be happy in a world of wonders, fairies, glorious glee, and above all her best friends, her cousins and siblings were there.

Her little golden round eyes were slowly diluting into a small grain of nothingness....

Her world forever changed.....

This is a snap shot of a vision never forgotten, of her departure of a beloved world she had come to love to be taken into a world of unknown.

"...she met her opponent, the giant, the fierce beast of darkness and loneliness...she fought.."

[I should've published something like this way before I started the blog, yet again, as you come to learn about me, I am sporadic and you will find a lot of things that will make you go back and forth.  That is the beauty of putting things in words.] 

Christmas 2013

"The road was eternally long, yet paved with many laughs and tired souls..."

Every christmas we hope to accomplish new things, do things differently.Step aside   from the routine ways. 

Saturday morning, December 21st, we made up our mind to take off. The drive was going to be long, exhausting, and very exciting all at once. 

En route, we made a few pit stops, Maryland and then DC, then NY. While visiting with an amazing aunt, we learned that tragic things can be used as positive reinforcers. I realized that I had not been as involved as I have consumed my existence by work. 

A life threatening decease is hard to overcome, its by far harder to overcome when you are expectant of love, kindness, and the purity of support  yet those closest to you turn their back on you. 

I can honestly say, life can definitely throw you lemons... 

Sunday, we took off from MD to NY. 

Tolls were a killer, we spent over $60 one way. It was ridiculous! In any case, we go to the city, and went to eat at this pizzeria, Uruguayan style. The best. 

Then took off to Long island, going through 34th st. It was amazing the amount of people out on the street, walking, snapping pictures into the nightly sky. 

The lights flickered everywhere, signs illuminated,  the propagandas were incredible. The colors of the buildings, the structure, the people, and then came the horns. 

Taxis everywhere, the cabs blew their horns not because they saw an imminent danger, but because its traditional of NY. 

On we went avoiding getting rear ended, establishing our grounds, down the tunnels and into the new found land of a giant city swallowing the country little lives. 

Long Island, our final destination seemed almost unreachable. Three exhausted individuals rode into the island, wishing to hit a nice warm comfy bed. 

Finally, reached our destination, joy and a sigh of relief of great success were visible. 

Day 1: rained. We hanged out with the family and went shopping. Original plan: to visit the city while the temperature was decent and not freezing. 

Day 2: weather was not working with us. We purchased the train tickets too late. Seems the train would pass by at noon.  So we called it off and pre-planned it for Christmas morning. so as to not waste the day, we made tamales, food, and more food. Visited a few family members, and ate a lot. 

And then, there was snow!! ❄️❄️❄️

As fun as it seemed the best option was to day as far away as possible as to not get sick being out on the cold. 

Nonetheless, we enjoyed the bit that fell.

Day 3: christmas morning. House full of family, cousins, and food! We were ready for the adventure! 

Off we went into the giant city, to loose ourselves in the mundane world or earthly enjoyments and indulge in the essence of city inflicted pressures and rush. 

The day began, cold in the 17s degrees. Bundled, yet unprepared for the long day.  The 4 of us began our route, walking non-sensely into blocks of crowded people. From 34th st, the Penn Station to Madison Square Gardens, to the Public Library, to the empire state building.! (Gasping for air) Stoping at random stores to warm up along the way. It was cold! We made a stop at several stands to buy gloves, earmuffs, scarfs, and hot chocolate, hot dogs, and coffee.

Finding a bathroom was like searching for a lost wallet in the city. None anywhere around. The time limits on restaurants for sitting was 30minutes. Walking aroubd and listening was just as amazing as watching a movie in high definition- There were different types of people everywhere, cultures, and languages! Such a melting pot! So diverse, yet so intense and overwhelming. 

We took the train to go to Chinatown, following an older Chinese lady (we actually asked her if she was headed to Chinatown, not that we just tagged along) we were en-route. It was an incredible place, yet not as i imagined it to be. You could see where the "town" began and where it ended. The smell of dumplings, soups, grains, and seafood filled the mixture of sewer ventilators- created a scent of New York at its best. As you crossed the streets onto "butcher shops" you could see the "rostiserie" chickens complete with head and beaks. The ducks hanged lifelessly, all roasted, and fresh- you could appreciate the grease as it rolled down their "naked" golden lifelessly body. There was an old church, speakers were in place where the steeple should have been. The speakers were playing a melody, a chant, unrecognizable to my understanding of the language, yet  so intense and pure were the sounds of the speaker's voice: it was time for Mass. As crazy as the Mass sounded to my ears, the most incredible part was that the speakers faced the Chinatown blocks, and mean while you stood across the street on what had become part of little Italy, the mass was non-interfering with the other's side eloquent and fancy ways.

On the other side behind that church sat the arrogant and most fancy Little Italy. The finest, the smell of the pizzerias, you could almost taste the pasta flavors if you breathed in long enough. It was quaint, yet, seemed so rough around the edges, one thought came to mind "mafia" not to say that there were any, but it almost felt as though I would get to see Al Capone ride by and or hear the Italians speak in that fancy-rough way. Yet the sounds were of many languages and the aromas of cheeses took my mind into a world of lust over food. 

As the four of us walked down the streets, somewhat hungry, yet no restaurant or food called our attention. We opted to seek other adventures and Henry as the instigator, lead the way. We choose to figure out where ground zero was and how we could get there. With no map at hand, but rather a tourist guide, we figured we were close enough. I mean, it was visible. We asked for directions and of course, to a New Yorker, one to five blocks is nothing, as they say it with the intentions that you will take a train.... Yet, as silly as this may sound, we thought we could get there on foot.

2hours later and a few blocks later, we arrived. Found the 9/11 Memorial site. Our faces and bodies were so cold, stoping every so often to stretch and fix our scarves we continued... It felt even colder as the closer we got, the lesser amount of people we saw out on the streets. It seemed so empty, desolate, the buildings and their chaos gave the impression that a widow was still mourning.

Down the Ground Zero site, we made an sporadic decision to walk to 

Wall Street. I mean, we were already there, why not?

As the cold began to take its toll on my feet and back, we choose to go with the adventure. We were all cold.... 

As we made a pit stop at a McDonalds in Broadway st to relieve our bodily necessities, we overheard a gentleman explain the locations of certain tourist attractions: the bull of wall street. It was actually located at the end of Broadway and not wall street. So we went.

 Then as just as you thought the trip was over and we would have to head back, we heard a Colombian lady mention that the Staten Island Ferry was just down the road and then the KEY WORDS, "FREE Ride!" Not hesitsting, we went. As improvised as the trip seemed, we continued to add sightings. Upon arriving to the site, we approached a guard to ask bout the ferry and how we could hop onand return. Such a gentleman he was, he not only did he provide a good tip of which side to sit on, but also told us to be slick and fast to return on the same boat: 25mins one way and 25the other way. 

We greeted the Liberty lady, from afar, but also got to appreciate the magnificient view of the city at night and crossing the waterway.

I was astonished to the sorrounding beauty and glamour of such a huge city.

By the time we made it back across the wayer onto manhattan,  it was around 7:30ish. On general consensus we took the train back to the original area of reunion. Yet, another idea crossed our heads, we had not seen the Rockefeller center nor the tree. Off we went,took the train to 52nd st.  

We were exhausted!!! Glad to find a seat, we goofed off:

Next stop: Rockefeller center: the temperatures had dropped drastically. What seemed cold began to freeze us even more. We walked about 6blocks from train station to the center. The amount of peopme was overwhelming! I got steped on, a dad carrying his child on his neck accidentally almost knocked me to the ground. 

It was all worth it though! The site of the magnificient, highly iluminated tree gave way to a world of magic and precious imagination. 

As we waited for the "show" we realized that there was no such show, but rather kids and parents who were well qualified financially to get the privileged to skate on the ice infront of thousands of people were the only ones participating.

Considering the extreme temperatures and our lack of preparedness for it, we decided to to call it the night. We had mde the teip worthwhile while improvising on everything. Got to see and walk like dumb idiots all around Manhattan. 

E were tired ... we ran to our train starion- the Penn Station (lierally ran), as the second to last of the late traind was maki ng it last calls. From 52nd to 34th street, it was a goos 20plus minutes of walk. 

My feet and back felt like they would explode. The pain was intense, yet I wanted to get home and rest. 

We rushed and hoped on the first train we could. Fortunately, it was the right train!

And so, as we rode in total laugher and fun, we entertained all those around us. None of us slept, but rather laughed non stop!

It was a great time had by all! Hungry and as cold as we were, we were satisfied of a great teip. If ever a next time, it will be during the spring! 

And as i close this mini vacation dialogue, note that the second version of DC TIME is just a few scrolls away! Tba! 

See you soon NY!!! 

The Living Dead

"...Assuming responsibility by default, not by choice.."

Time and time again we have heard that what we rip is the fruit of our labors.  So in such analogy, if I have chosen the right seeds, planted on fertile soil, then I am bound to have a sprout of new life.  Yet it hardly seems logical, reasonable to assume safely.  The weather changes, the occasions change, the soil looses that composure of nutrients and decays. 

It has been maybe about 2months a half since I took the plunge out into the unknown.  Or one could easily say I was shoved down the cliff all because I turned my back to lend a hand, yet that one person or group tossed me down.

I lost my job, a profession, not a career from the Mass Media outlet.  Lost it no by choice, nor simply by default, but from what one could call force.

As many would know, I am that one person that will always opt to do the right thing whether it is giving up something for myself to help others, I will choose to be on the right path.  As a human being, I am not perfect by any means, I choose to live life with passion, purity, and honesty in all areas and aspects of life.  Yet I was faced by what seemed as demonic, and tormenting, even in adulthood the notion...a close encounter with bullying.  I almost felt like Sinbad when surrounded by all those hyenas laughing and vengefully seeking to torment the soul of that peaceful, yet fierceful king.

And there I sat, after 6 highly dedicated years doing what I loved, it was not because of the money or the "endorsements" as I was not an on-air personality...it was more of the satisfaction (for the lack of better terms), of helping someone.  It was all done out of the passion of my heart that never ceased to find alternatives, ways to find a way or method to connect to the audience through the heart and soul.  For 6 years, I proved theories, I did my work and completed my tasks.  Went above and beyond what was required of my person, yet as the days would end gratitude seemed to be the least of the remarks expressed by those around me.

I met phenomenal people, those who remain part of my life, in a professional and personal way.  So what happened you must ask?  It came as quick as lightning, and as loud as the revolving waters of the Niagara Falls.  With great might, what can only be described as vile, mocking, and bullies, threw their very best shot at me.  I was the target because I was sincere, I was honest, and by far was probably the only one that would stand between their goals and strategies and thus I was a threat. 
Never in my life and as you have probably read on previous postings, have I deceitfully implied taking something that is not intended for me. 

As a child I was blessed to be given hard working parents, hard working siblings, and of course grandparents that also proved to be the key essential conspirators of my highly motivational, independent being that I am today.  They crafted me to perfection to NEVER GIVE UP. Or at least on what is necessary and not in vengeance.

And so, I sat at my desk doing my daily's task.  And I was approached by two conspirators of most evil deception, poisonous of beings - they came like voltures into my bubble of peace and tranquility, interrupting most suddenly that momentum of hard work only to spit the poison of "self-righteousness, most arrogant, and most self indulged deception of decay."  They stood there gazing down at me while shouting with fierce words as if raping my soul and consuming the inner spirit of life.  "You are nothing, you are trash, you do not own anything around here, you are not the hierarchy that signs off my paycheck to tell us to leave your so called office..." doumbfounded I sat there imagining everything was a joke, a foul joke that somehow missed April's fool and landed in June-fool.  "YOU ARE A Thief came the words, you have stolen so much money from clients they said..."

I giggled, yet I shook my head from disgust to hear these words spoken so inaccurately and so stupidly.  My stomach turned and all I wanted to do that very instant was to slap someone for being so stupid yet so ignorant.  I thought, "Really? Is this seriously happening?" My questions immediately came: Please name the client, name the amount, dates, and tell me where it came from that I have stolen money and at what occasion.  To which no answer was provided. 

The one verbal aggression that hurt the most was being accused of stealing money from the funds raised for the St. Jude's Children Research Hospital marathons and tournaments of hope, aka soccer tournaments. The soccer tournaments that so kindly were hosted as well by the owner of the facility who received but the mere limits of few commercials in return - barter. Yes, while I did have the creativity of organizing these events, and yes, while I do have that blessing to expanding my abilities to be creative and diverse, this came as a big stab directly into my heart.  If anyone where to take the time to know where my heart stands in reference to charitable donations and especially with children, would've had to think twice before making this type of remark or assumption. It would be like pulling the plug on a child who is depending on this support to continue to breathe among us.

I was brutally accussed of stealing money from these funds.  Not only did it hurt profoundly but it tore my heart apart.  It was the lowest of things anyone could say of me.  While I have never stolen a single thing in my life, or at least have never taken anything "permanently" borrowed....I felt so humiliated, destroyed, and never so bullied in my life.  Perhaps you might think I was just weak and should've defended myself, but sometimes even when told to turn the other cheeck enough is enough.  Seeing that my superior, my boss and the one person that I thought would be certain of what was in front of him that was real, trust worthy, mature, and overall brought income to the actual business...he let everyone take on their anger and frustration of not being set free to do as they will....so he allowed things happen. His silence and lack of leadership created by the lack of discipline and self involvement opened the door to this tragic episode of most humiliating nature.  Although many times over and over it was pointed out that things were wrong, he opted to not get involved.  I feel as though he choose to turn a blind eye even when right there in his face, people are taking out of his wallet... and so, I threw the towel, raised my white flag and walked out.

fair? no it was not fair.  Not only did I loose a lot of $$, time, and dignity from being humiliated and all I expected was a simple phone call from him assuming all responsibility, yet it never happened.  So I sit here writing this and perhaps this will never get published nor seen, yet as much I would live to vengefully take back what was stolen from me, I feel dormant.  Spent a life time of sincerity, honesty, and dedication of hard work to only get bullied, harassed, and pressured to the point of resignation...

I have chosen to let things go, because to fight would be to open the doors for other unnecessary heart burdens.  This does not mean that anyone else will get the best of me and most certainly there will not be a second time. 

Like it is said, Karma can be a B*&^%! And although I do not wish anyone any wrongs, they will bring their castle down.  I have learned a lot and perhaps this situation was a way to bring me back to reality and seek better opportunities.

Insane, yes, you would never think that this could happen in small companies or big companies the like.  However, truth is, there are bullies everywhere and "THEY" seek to harm those that are most quiet, humble, and weak. It is a tough lesson, never again though.  Never again.

"...the eyes of the vultures, seeks to destroy, find the weak spot...you become the prey, and when least expected, they attack without any sign of mercy..."

ONE FOR THE MONEY - "Food Criticism"

"The way to the heart is through the stomach?"

This is a brief synopsis of one of my favorite places to eat Mexican-American food.  Note, there are TONS of so called Tex-Mex, Mexican Restaurant and consider their menu, "authentic."  In reality, it does not do its justice to present a plate of "authentic" Mexican food when it does not come nearly close to what real Mexican dining can be.

In any case, the vast majority can tell you that the style of dining here in the USA is more Americanized to meet the needs and feed the hungry crowds of the standard, fast-paced society in which we live in here in the USA.... we are a country of consumers and the faster the food gets to us, the faster we move on with our day to have yet another meal to look forward to... pretty monotone if you ask me.  We are the U.S.of A where the new standards of being normal is being a few pounds overweight.  It is either one extreme or the other...there is no medium.

Below is my two cents worth for a fantastic place to dine with your spouse, family, or co-workers.  The environment is welcoming to whatever the occassion.

*****
Rio Grande in West Ashley SC , is one of my favorite Mexican-American Restaurants.  The reason:  The food!  You can immediately recognize when the cook prioritizes the flavor in the food on your first bite.  The food is well prepared to meet the consumer's visual, taste, and satisfaction.  Not bad for a super quick meal with your co-workers, family, or friends.  It is simply a place that will captivate your taste buds and you will be sure to come back and enjoy a meal or drinks with your guests!  Another aspect of the restaurant is their friendly staff, the environment as a whole, and the fact that the owner/operator is always around to greet you and make sure you are well taken care off.

My husband and I went in for a quick bite for lunch and ended our meal with a suprise gift of CHURROS with ice-cream! Of course we had to eat them! ;-) See images below.

I am neither a Chef, nor a food critic, however, am a lover of the culinary arts! Love to paint with the strokes of spices, sprinkling the flavors of a dinamic meal...I love to be transported to a world of comfort on that original bite.

Food, I love FOOD and LOVE to get creative, thus RIO GRANDE has obtained a faithful client with me! They know what I like!

Enjoy peeps!

*****

Chimichanga - THE BEST

Mojarra Frita

CHURROS!!!!

Domenic Marte's New Single "NO SE PORQUE"

The below is a piece of writting that came to mind in a spam of 20minutes.  Upon receiving a call and a series of text messages from Maria Laura, my sister In-law, we sat down to chat about what she had been requested. 

Domenic Marte is an excellent singer, he felt he could trust us to write a small paragraph to define his new single. We did just that.  Allowing the song to transport my soul into the notes of every sound, my mind traveled miles and miles into the depth of it's music...thus the result below:

NEW BACHATA FROM DOMENIC MARTE 2013 Domenic Marte’s courage to inject the Music Industry with a new single using his outmost creativity to unite both Classical Pop music and Bachata of which is known to be fully Tropical, has demonstrated h...is talent, abilities, and creativity as an artist who is willing to add an extra bit of spice into the “traditional.” It is a great risk, yet as he has previously proven with his previous success songs in the pas...t “Ven Tu,” “Deseos De Amarte”, “Eres Asi” & “Muero De Celos” that Domenic has more to offer to the higher demand of a new and revolving culture of Bachata Pop worldwide. Domenic Marte using his passion and dedication has pursued this new “twist” to further state that he is “El Gitano de la Bachata.” Why do we refer to him as the “Gipsy of Bachata?” It is because of his transparency and passion for the music that he is fearless of failure, but demonstrates his daringness to be innovative and willingness to accept the requests of his fans globally. We present to you “No Se Porque”

Domenic Marte, el compositor y bachatero une lo clasico de la musica pop con lo tropical de la Bachata. Utilizando su creatividad, mezclo dos generos para crear la nueva sensacion en la Bachata. Sin temor a fracasar, Domenic Marte asume el riesgo de lanzarse al mundo de la Bachata con su Nuevo sencillo “No Se Porque.” El Bachatero mejor conocido como el “Gitano de la Bachata” encuentra su identidad en separarse de lo tradicional al mesclar ritmos que cautivan a los fans y a quienes se identifican con el romanticismo creado en la musica. Una vez mas, Domenic Marte da de que hablar al utilizar un ritmo diferente en la Bachata tradicional al igual con la cancion “Ven Tu” donde utilizo el Flamengo como parte de su identidad en la Bachata y la cual demostro ser un exito total en la industria. Domenic Marte, compositor y cauntantor en su nuevo sencillo transporta al oyente a un mundo de suspenso en el cual el Corazon es el gran protagonista de una escena en busca de el significado de el amor a traves de la soledad en completo silencio con tan solo el latido de su Corazon.
Written by - Maria F. Viera

http://soundcloud.com/ebjentertainment/domenic-marte-no-se-porque-new