Chapter 17

Habit is habit and not to be flung out of the window by any man,

but coaxed downstairs a step at a time.

~Mark Twain

Ever since my classmate told me about Vegetarian's Paradise on West 4th Street, I haven't stopped going. During my 4th attempt of vegetarianism, I tried this place out and their soy nuggets are to die for.

I haven't returned to being a vegetarian but I'm currently on Day 15 of the Simple Green Smoothies challenge. Everyday I drink some leafy green with fruit concoction so I would be able to get my servings of fruits and vegetables. It actually tastes better than what it sounds. This is something I want to carry over beyond the 30 days because I feel great. I also ran two miles before going to the hospital. The whole day I was euphoric because my energy levels were so high and my soul just felt rejuvenated.

I realized that I've always tried drastic measures to lose weight compromising the foods I love to eat and imposing strict guidelines. It shouldn't be like that. I need to learn how to take small steps in the right direction whether its in my weight loss goals, career goals, savings plan, whatever. It's just more realistic.

Lesson Learned: Slowly changing the direction of a ship over time is safer than changing its direction right before you hit an iceberg. It's better to have gradual results panned out over a long time than drastic changes in which you're susceptible to relapse.

Chapter 16

Love overcomes hate. Love has no color
Love has no orientation. All is love.
~Adam Lambert

I had a very interesting conversation with the resident I'm shadowing: our significant others. She asked "Does your family like him?".

That question often makes me cringe while I go through a number of emotions.

My response: "I guess. It's hard to tell because he's Black." She then asks "But aren't there Black people in Dominican Republic?" The million dollar question.

I come from a culture where a racist dictator brainwashed the people of the country for decades that black is ugly. However, I will not solely blame him for the ignorance because people can choose to surpass that. There's a saying that "everyone has Black behind their ears" which means essentially every Dominican has SOME Black in them. We're a country that began with indigenous natives that were colonized by Spaniards that brought in African slaves. Our people are a color spectrum, which is a beautiful thing.

I've been in my relationship for close to seven years. However, to my family the first two years never existed. Yup, I hid my relationship for two years.

I was afraid of the "consequences" of coming out. No one else in my family had dated a Black person and the Dominicans I know don't hide the fact that they don't like Black people. Forget the fact that he comes from a great family and finished grad school, his skin color was of utmost importance. So I was stuck. It wasn't fair to him that I have him hidden but I didn't want to be the "black sheep".

To me biracial couples are one of the greatest products of living in the U.S. Here you are, in a heterogenous country where you can meet the love of your life whose ancestry is halfway around the globe. You don't need to understand their culture or speak their language, all you need is love. Families should be content that you have found a person that loves you for who you are. Despite all the animosity and racist remarks (i.e. going to have little monkey children, better know how to braid hair, I was such a good daughter until this, etc) Aundrée has stuck it out with me because he believes in our love and I can never be more appreciative.

Lesson Learned: Shatter the blinds of ignorance. Don't be afraid to confront people and stand up for what you believe in. Love goes deeper than a hue.

Chapter 15

In times of great stress or adversity, it's always best to keep busy, 

to plow your anger and your energy into something positive.  

~Lee Iacocca

Something is off and I have no idea what. 

I've been in the ophthalmology clinic for two weeks and it's a pretty relaxed environment. However, I've been feeling this looming stress recently.

So I did what I usually do when I'm stressed: clean. I clean when my anxiety and stress levels are super high. My roommates pointed it out to me some time ago. I would snap at them the day before an exam because they failed to do their chores. Shortly after I take the exam, I would go back to the apartment and got my clean on.

I usually prep myself by playing some bachata and letting the Ajax sit in the bathtub. I scrub every tile and scrutinize every crevice. Once I'm done, I stand at the doorway and admire my work of art. Today, I also wanted to clean my room so I repeated the same procedure. There's something about a clean environment that just feels like a breath of fresh air. 

Speaking of fresh air, yesterday I was really unhappy with how my body felt. I told myself I would go running at 630 am. Let's just say waking up at 730 am felt amazing. However, I wanted to follow through with the promise I made myself. After cleaning my room, I went for a run by the FDR Drive just to clear my mind and get rid of this unknown source of stress.

According to my Nike Run app, today was my longest and farthest run. I also realized I pushed myself to stop as little as possible. Those 2.6 miles went by like nothing and I feel really good (well not entirely because my knees are aching).

Lesson Learned: Often times we carry this unforeseen load of stress that can be triggered by so many different aspects of our lives. As long as we are be able unload the stress and channel that energy into something productive there's nothing wrong with a little bit of "healthy" stress.

Chapter 14

I like to keep my feet on the sidewalk.

~Joshua Homme

I've been living in the Upper East Side for a mere two weeks and I'm already fed up.

This is presumed to be the neighborhood of the wealthy, educated, well-to-doers and their respective pups.

Well let me tell you something, not even a medical degree can cover the amount of dog poop on the sidewalks. (I'm not sure if that made any sense).

I have the worst luck when it comes to poop. I can date back as far as seventh grade all the terrible accidents I've had stepping on dog poop and having a trailing scent for the rest of the day. What do you do when you're far from home, don't have a hose to apply water pressure to remove the poop or let alone napkins to somehow remove it from the intricate lines on the bottom of your sneaker? Do you go on your merry way and pretend it wasn't you? 

On my walk to work, I enjoy observing my surroundings. However, my observations have been truncated by constantly having to look down on the sidewalk to avoid poop. Literally every 6 inches there's some dog's intestinal residuals. On one of my walks, someone made the poop amusing by putting a little "waving" flag on top of it.

To add more insult to the injury, some blocks smell like dog urine. Not only do I have to focus on the sidewalk but I must also hold my breath because the scent is extremely potent and nauseating.

There are traffic police officers all over the neighborhood giving parking tickets left and right. I'm pretty sure they can multitask and give the dog walkers a summons for not picking up after their pets. I'm not going to lie, I am guilty of leaving my dog's feces on my neighbor's lawn but at least its a lawn and not all over the sidewalk. (That doesn't justify it.) This is not only a visual sore but it's not sanitary issue with plenty of ramifications. I'm sure if the dog crapped on your living room floor you would pick it up. Then why not do the same on the streets? The street cleaning vehicles don't clean the sidewalks so who's expected to clean the crap? The bottom of some innocent person's foot?

Lesson Learned: Wealth doesn't buy you hygiene, cleanliness, or class. The Upper East Side needs to get their shit together. 

Chapter 13

Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.

~Chili Davis

Today we celebrated my cousin's 27th birthday.

It was a bunch of women sitting at a table talking about: babies....for about 5 hours.

Just a year ago we were all sitting at the same table talking about our significant others, plans for the future, and just gossiping.

In just a matter of a year, four babies later, and four more due to arrive, we have all grown up. Our priorities have shifted, our outings are limited and so are our cocktails.

Three (including me) of eight are not pregnant or have children.

Which is a new experience for me.

I don't have much biological family in USA so I never got to meet many of my "blood" cousins's offsprings and now suddenly all these babies creeped up on me. It's seeing beauty in a new light: cuteness in a 1 month old farting, a 1.5 year old always telling me no, or a 2 year old who kindly gives you an item placed on a chair so she can have a seat.

We've grown up.

Which is not a bad thing, I guess but at times I get nostalgic of the good times when time used to go by slower, money was never a problem and laughter was in abundance.

The three of us guesstimated that in next 5-8 years perhaps we'll contemplate having a child. Which then got me thinking, much of our generation obsesses with planning.

We plan trips, education, children, our whole freaking life but sometimes we need to add some spontaneity and break free from the rigidity. Its good to be prepared but not overly prepared. If things always go as planned, we won't know how to respond when they don't go in accordance to our timeline. We're at a stage where even the most natural gift women possess, childbirth, is now planned.

Much of my life has been planned and I must admit it's quite lackluster. The unknown frightens me. Not being able to control an aspect of my life just makes me nervous. If it wasn't for the unforeseen failures or life's pleasant (and not so pleasant) surprises, I wouldn't be able to say with confidence that I can react decently when a curveball gets thrown at me. Although I believe my whole world is crashing when I get thrown off course, I convince myself some good will come out of it.

Lesson Learned: We'll never be ready for the next step if we keep prepping and not move forward from this grand"plan". As much as we find successes in completing tasks according to plan, we should also be willing to accept new, unpremeditated challenges as the process of growing up.

Chapter 12

Wise men don't need advice. Fools won't take it.

~Benjamin Franklin

I love shopping and I'm really observant.

Often times, I just zone out at gatherings and just watch people. There's just something so interesting about observing people in their element.

I was in the jewelry section of Loehmman's when a young girl tripped. She was running around, screaming but as a true New Yorker, I was able to ignore her shrieks. However, once she tripped I snapped out and was concerned. When a child falls, you wait for those longest seconds to see whether the child reacts with laughter or cry of death. This rugrat got up and resumed her running as if nothing happened.

She only had one shoe on and her older sister stepped on a stocking. Another bystander told the girl to be careful but this wild child wasn't having it. Once this bystander commented to the child, out comes the mom. The bystander, white perhaps American woman, was telling this mother how it's dangerous for the little girl to be running around especially in her stockings. And this is where it gets interesting.

The mother of European descent in a thick accent explains to this American woman that she cannot control her three and a half year old daughter. She states she cannot yell at her or beat her. The American woman was puzzled and replied to the lady "What?! I'm not going to get in to this but you are the parent, she has to listen to you."

This mother goes on to explain that there's nothing she can do for this child, she just allows her to do whatever she wants and if she gets hurts then she'll learn.

As all this is going on, I'm hiding behind the sunglasses eavesdropping thinking what I would've done with this kid.

Everyone has their two cents on how a child should be raised. Do I agree with this nut case of a mom? Absolutely not but I'm not going to give her a lecture on parenting in the middle of Loehmann's. The poor mother looked disheveled, exhausted and defeated. Who knows what she's going through? Do we just fault the child for being in that "difficult stage" or fault the mother for poor parenting? What do we even coin as "good parenting", a relative term?

Lesson Learned: Sometimes it's best to just ignore what's going on around you. As many good intentions you have, we have to learn when is an appropriate time to dish out advice and how receptive the audience is.

Chapter 11

I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. 

It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. 

Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.

~Maya Angelou

My brother is a test question.

On every cardiac exam I've taken, my brother's heart condition doesn't fail to make an appearance.

He was diagnosed with Wolff Parkinson White at a young age. Because he was so delicate and we couldn't agitate him, he was treated differently which led to being spoiled.

My brother has a complex personality. He's a constant tug of war of opposites. He's an intelligent young adult who has this facade of a lazy thug. He's a sweetheart who pretends to be a player. He splurges on high end products when he's a product of middle class.

At one point, my brother and I couldn't stand the sight of one another. We would fight, bash each other against the wall and wish the other would just disappear. Presently, we've reached a happy medium where we enjoy each other's company, vent our emotions and have sporadic conversations about life. He encourages and pushes me to reach my goals. However, when I try to suggest weight loss or not buying Louis Vuitton, he throws the ball right back and tells me to focus on my own goals.

Not everyone understands my brother . Actually, not everyone takes the time to understand my brother. Instead they fixate on his negatives and criticize my mother's parenting skills.

As my brother picked me up today and drove my car, I was just in awe how quickly he grew up. Here I am yelling at Junior about his reckless driving and he's yelling back that I'm just like mami. With him I learned the art of compromise. I can't impose my views much less measure his success against mine. We may have been born from the same parents, grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same school but our life experiences are vastly different. I can't expect him to do things my way, my parent's way or any other person's way. I accepted his way.

Lesson Learned: Teenagers are complicated (duh!). You need to constantly play tug of war until a balance is met. As much as you only wish the best for them, they need to learn from their own mistakes. Let them have some independence but of course with firm guidance. You can only learn to ride a bicycle by taking off the training wheels and being there for them when they fall.

Chapter 10

Time and health are two previous assets that we don't recognize until they have been depleted.

~Denis Waitley

I'm exhausted. Not from working all day but from exercising today. Unintentionally.

It must've been written in the stars for me that today my fitness was to be tested.

I decided to hang my scarf on my bookbag because the day looked warm. Once I stepped outside, walked to the corner, I concluded that it was a little brisk and I should wear my scarf. I go to reach for my scarf and its not there. It must've fallen on the stairs. I proceed to walk back to my building and wished it was on the 1st floor. Now, I live on a 5th floor of a walkup building. Every afternoon, I dread going home because I have to climb those steps. My scarf isn't on the 1st floor or the 2nd or the 3rd or the 4th. It fell right outside my freaking door. I picked it up, shook my head, and chuckled.

After work, I decided to pick up dinner from one of my favorite restaurants. It was just 5 blocks away from my apartment. The hospital is already 15 blocks away from my apartment so 5 blocks is no biggie. On my way there, I received a message that I needed to go back to the hospital for a meeting. By this time, my feet were throbbing and I was pooped so I took a cab back. However, I trekked the walk back home, again. Today I walked 50 blocks. Doesn't seem like a lot but when you're wearing Steve Madden Intyce boots, boy do your feet feel the heat.

In my short lifetime, I have gone through so many exercise regimens. I may just be the most fit, chunkiest person you've met. I've tried Bikram Yoga (hot yoga), Capoiera, spin class, kickboxing, Barry's Bootcamp, Bally's and Lucille Roberts. I've paid for a nutritionist (which was successful for a small amount of time), done the Special K diet, drank only water. You name it, I've probably done it.

This year I've committed to an overall healthier lifestyle. So what if I walked a bunch of extra blocks or went up another set of 5 flight of stairs. This can only benefit me. I've also took up the 30 day green smoothie challenge, something I see myself doing beyond the 30 days because I honestly feel better drinking it.

Working in the hospital, I've witnessed so many regretful faces when they are diagnosed with malignancies or chronic illnesses due to disregard of overall health. We pollute our lungs with smoke, abuse our liver with alcohol, dirty our veins with drug use, clog our arteries with fast food, and never do we think about the consequences. Yea, we shoulda, woulda coulda, but we didn't. It's time we get serious about this borrowed body we have and do good to it because once health is gone, it's gone forever.

Lesson Learned: Don't push back what you can do now. Create small, tangible goals that works towards one large one. Our bodies can only handle but so much abuse until our luck runs out.

Chapter 9

A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person.

-Mignon McLaughlin

My parents are old school in every aspect you can imagine.

Boyfriend can't stay past 11 pm unless its a Friday or Saturday, can't invite guests unannounced because the fridge has to be stocked, or you have to say "con permiso" if you'd like to talk to them while they're on the phone.

Their marriage is pretty old school too or maybe my dad is inattentive. If and when my dad has a craving for calamari, he'll invite my mom to his favorite restaurant and that's the extent to quality, alone time I've seen my parents spend. I can't blame them entirely because this economy has my dad slaving at his own bodega. However, that is no excuse as to why I've been purchasing gifts for my mother from my father since elementary school.

Today I received an email for the presale of the Marc Anthony concert. My dad wants to see a Nets game at the Barclays and my mother wanted to go to a Marco Antonio Solis so I decided why not modify the two wishes and have them go to a Marc Anthony concert at the Barclay's! I bought them two floor seat tickets (just FYI, if you don't want to tumble like ragweed, I'd suggest not sitting in the nosebleeds at the Barclay's) for the day after Valentine's and I'm sure my dad will take the credit as this being his idea. It'll be a romantic concert with an amazing singer that'll give them the opportunity to not only share their love of music but share quality time together. 

I've noticed that in order for things to happen at my house I have to impose them. Both my parents get caught up with their jobs that at times I think they forget they're humans and not only do we have to allow our bodies to rest but we need to nourish our relationships, create hobbies and interests to allow our minds to decompress. Habits can be easily created but difficult to break so if we're constantly in this vicious cycle of all work no play, we tend to forget the things that matter most. It's not the house, the car, the money. It's the underlying love, the fruit of the marriage, that made it possible for all that to happen. 

Lesson Learned: If in a relationship or marriage, make sure to dedicate some time to your spouse/significant other. Go on dates, it can be as simple as walking in the park and just communicating. Remind yourselves why you fell in love with the person in the first place. During your time together, forget the worries and focus on fortifying your love. 

Chapter 8

Everyone is like a butterfly, they start out ugly and awkward and then morph into beautiful graceful butterflies that everyone loves.

~Drew Barrymore

I'm awkward. Super awkward. Especially around strangers I'm forced to meet.

The beginning of every rotation is like the first day of class ALL over again.

Because I'm a transfer student, many of my colleagues give me puzzled looks when they see me at orientation. To make it even more uncomfortable, I'm not socially outgoing. In order to make up for this flaw, I default to my cellphone. I somehow manage to have so many emails and texts to respond to which forces me to have my head down for some time. This stint can only hold up for but so long until I approach borderline antisocial.

So I switch to staring into space which in my head makes it easier for me to introduce myself. I look up, to the sides, to one person's face but only long enough before they notice and then quickly go back to looking up. This continues until someone breaks the ice and asks "Are you a Sophie Davis student?".

Sigh. Finally. Once that happens, I loosen up and become friendly.

I wish I possessed the networking skill in which I can gracefully walk into a room, introduce myself and instantly spark a conversation. I've gone to so many seminars, lectures, workshops on how to network that I can give a lecture my damn self but I can't even begin to put it in practice.

When I was a Colin Powell Fellow, the administrators thought it was a good idea for me to go a fundraiser hosted by Mayor Bloomberg and Gen. Colin Powell. It took place at Gracie Mansion and there were potential donors who wanted to hear from the fellows themselves. Boy was the pressure on. I stood in a corner and watched my colleagues work the floors. I honestly tried to initiate a conversation but upon reading the name tags and their positions, I blushed and just smiled.

Breakfast was to be served so I sat at the table in the back corner. A friendly gentleman, whose name tag I couldn't see, began talking to me. We made small talk until I struck a cord bringing up Dominican Republic. Here I was talking to the ambassador of South Korea about the beaches of Dominican Republic. I wasn't nervous, my face wasn't flushed, I didn't stutter. This conversation went so smoothly.

Similar situation occurred when I went to a summit for Hispanic Scholarship Fund. Again, I sat at the back table in the corner. A gentleman sat next to me and again Dominican Republic struck another cord. He spent some time abroad in the countryside of Dominican Republic. For the rest of the night, the conversation went smoothly. He was called on stage and he happened to be some head honcho at Wells Fargo that donated $1 million dollars that night.

If its one thing that I learned about myself is that I'm at ease if I can speak to people not knowing their titles, who they work for, or what they do for a living. All I need to know is their name. Plain and simple.

Lesson Learned: If all else fails, talk about Dominican Republic. Just Kidding. At times we get entangled with the accolades of a person which can be intimidating and in my case paralyzes you. However for many of these people their work is what they do and not who they are. There is so much more to a person than their position of their job. When meeting people for a first time, try to get to know the person for who they are and you'll notice how much easier it is to start a conversation.

Chapter 7

The way most doctors practice medicine right now is not working.

~ Mark Hyman

6 am - 6pm.

That is my schedule Mon- Thursday. The weekend is even worse. 

Besides fearing the rumored (and often true) arrogance that surgeons are known for, I can't even begin to fathom how I'm going to get through this surgical rotation in the midst of winter.

You see, doctors are the epitome of irony. Who knows best the physiology and limits of the human body but yet find themselves constantly abusing the body and depriving it of sleep? What field constantly promotes humanism yet as our healthcare becomes more capitalistic we're missing clear signs because all we're looking for are dollar signs? 

Medicine is a highly regarded field which is becoming more and more glorified. However, the road to becoming to physician is a treacherous one. Today the clerkship director called us test taking machines and that's precisely what medical school is about. Unfortunately, much of a doctor's success is measured on their test taking abilities. Forget compassion, humanism, and communication skills.

If you haven't noticed yet, I'm jaded and I have been having doubts about my career choice. Spending time on the hospital floors hasn't reinvigorated this inner fire I once possessed. Instead of being in a place of healing, I was in a shark tank. I understand working in a city hospital can be demanding and MANY of the patients aren't the most pleasant ones but we mustn't forget our core human values. 

I'll never forget the day I interviewed a patient who was said to have early signs of dementia because she "acted out". Before I even began asking my questions the patient quickly stated "You're not gonna want to hear my story." Yes, she was a long winded talker but after sitting and talking to her, she was FAR from demented, reacted as a normal human being should when your property has been stolen and you've been lied to. I can't imagine what this poor lady has been through in order for her to believe no one would lend an ear.

I have this genuine fear that when I become a physician, I might inadvertently submit to this culture of apathy and get lost in the sea of supply and demand. Until then I must continue to remind myself why I'm here.

Lesson Learned: My friend's father reminded me to have fun and as a student I forget to do just that. Fear is a powerful motivator but can also serve as a road block. Go into experiences with the hopes of making a difference and brush aside preconceived notions.

Chapter 5

 Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength,

while loving someone deeply gives you courage.

~Lao Tzu

Love. I don't get enough of it.

Actually, I do.

Today I was blessed to realize all the extensions of love that surround me.

I attended my cousin's babyshower of which his mother is my godmother and great aunt.

Standing at about 4'9" and 105 pounds, I have no idea where my godmother fits all this joy, love and the spirit of Jesus Christ. My great aunt, Tia Melliza, is an embodiment of relentless faith and selfless love. Should you ever feel defeated, depressed or doubtful, just ring Tia Melliza and in no time she will help you overcome your darkest hour.

Tia Melliza (which translates to twin) has an identical twin sister so imagine everything I mentioned times two! They both share the same nicknames, so we call them Tia Melliza New York and Tia Melliza Dominican Republic. They also share their first and middle names but in alternating order (great grandma wasn't too creative) and that's how my middle name came about: Mercedes, our Lady of Mercy. They would share stories of how they intentionally fooled people into thinking they were the other twin and by the end they would burst out in synchronized laughter.

The beauty of my family size is that I was given the opportunity to really bond with my grandmother's sisters. I never got to meet my grandmother but boy did this Earth miss out on a woman who came from a strong line of resilient women. They don't make them like this anymore.

After leaving the baby shower, I had to go buy a couple of things that I still needed for my new room. My boyfriend, Aundrée, drove from work to assist me with the shopping. He drove 45 minutes after a long day of work in addition to feeling under the weather. Although this may seem as a minute favor, I saw this as a portrayal of love. At times we get caught up in the commercialized depiction of love in which we automatize "I Love You" or make a big celebration of anniversaries but what about all the days in between those anniversaries? What about the hugs that are a little longer than usual, the random phone call to see how they're doing or the day you look deeply into their eyes and just smile? Of course it's nice to utter "I Love You" as vocal reminder of how much a person means to you but it's the gestures that portray that strong sentiment.

Lesson Learned: The beauty about love is it has no clear definition. It comes in all shapes, sizes and forms and sometimes unanticipated. Just remember to embrace it and pay it forward. There's always someone who can use some reminding of how much you care for them.

Chapter 6

For every good reason there is to lie, there is a better reason to tell the truth.

~Bo Bennett

When I was about seven years old, my mother was having a conversation with my aunt about something my godmother did. I intently listened to the conversation not skipping a beat. Once the conversation was over, I quickly ran over to my godmother and divulged everything my mother said. Definitely got a beating at the end of the day although I didn't understand why I was getting beat. You said you didn't like something about someone then go tell them. As a child, I always questioned this terrible practice of gossiping. Well if you don't like it that much, why not tell them directly?

Growing up, I thought there was this age cut off where we would become wiser and telling the truth would become easier. But as children we've been primed to avoid the truth. If you did something wrong there was this gut-churning fear of the consequence and in order to avoid facing them, well, you create a lie. Same thing in the adult world except there are no consequences per se, just a whole lotta hypocrisy and falling out.

Common lie: "Is everything okay?" "Yea, I'm good" and then proceed to act uncomfortably awkward. Not to mention that lies have even been overly commercialized. Wife asks husband how does she look, husband replies "Fine honey" when to all of America watching the commercial, she looks terrible.

I've grown to really appreciate honesty because it's become a rare commodity. I'm at a stage in my life where I'm tired of the sugar coating, the beating around the bush, or the conversations behind my back. Instead we've grown so dependent on these spurs of honesty: inbox me a number and I'll tell you what I think about you or for an ENTIRE day, I will be completely honest, ready set, go! Is this what we've come down to? Why not be honest EVERY day?

On the other hand, let's say you are one of those brutally honest people, how many people are actually receptive of "criticism"? We've been bred to be defensive when someone points out a flaw as if it were embarrassing. Instead what we should've been taught is to develop a deep appreciation for that person and say thank you, the same way you'll say thank you if someone pointed out you had spinach stuck in your teeth.

There's also a certain way to tell the truth. The tone of voice can't be too judgmental but it also can't sound too sensitive or it will be misinterpreted as a joke. By this time, telling the truth is a complicated process. Not only do you have to carefully choose your words but also your tone of voice? 

If you deeply care for the person, blood or not, there should be a level of comfort in which you can blatantly share your honest opinions or remarks otherwise we'll continue to live in this world full of beguiling friendship.

Lesson learned: Keep it real.

 

Chapter 4

We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes to remedy this kind of poverty.

~Mother Teresa 

What does a 40 oz Coors Light, two bottles of Red Stripe, two bags of chips and a bacon, egg and cheese have in common?

In addition to being purchased at my father's bodega, each of these served as breakfast for four different people.

My dad didn't escape the stereotype of a Dominican owning bodegas. 

On a side note, I find it amusing that in New York we call them bodegas because in DR we actually call them colmados. Bodegas literally translates to wineries.  

Back to the point.

Today, I had to hold the fort down at the bodega as my father was taking his oath of allegiance in becoming a U.S. Citizen and my brother was sleeping comfortably in his bed. Many of the customers were surprised and asked if I was Carlos' daughter. They can only tell because I bear a striking resemblance to my brother who regularly works there. They probably can also tell because I don't know the prices to any of the items, was painstakingly slow at the Lotto machine and have a terrible ear for accents. I have a fascination for accents (and culture in general) and have many failed attempts trying to speak in one. However, there's something about my auditory sense that can't translate the patua. So my day consisted of plenty of "Pardon?' and "No, Junior looks like me. I'm the older one."

My dad has his regular customers borderline employees: Jason, Taliban 1 and 2, Colombia, and Belize. 

Jason is the handyman that does many favors for my dad and is Jamaican. Taliban 1 is a Rastafarian, Trinidadian mechanic that schools my brother with his own philosophies of life and loves my mother's arepas. Taliban 2 is unrelated to Taliban 1 but they are close friends. He's also a Rastafarian but is Guyanese. (I'm going to go ahead and assume these nicknames came about due to their long dreads nestled in a turban. Disclaimer: the whole neighborhood calls them these nicknames. Pardon ahead of time should I offend anyone). Colombia is a rambunctious, obese man from whom my dad buys his sneakers from and I think you can guess where he's from. Belize, my favorite, is an older gentleman with flawless mocha skin, snow white hair and pearly whites. He's always well dressed with a matching Kangol hat. When you talk to Belize, within seconds you feel relaxed because he's so soft spoken, always beaming with joy and shows the utmost respect to everyone and anyone that enters my dad's bodega. 

Oh and I forgot to mention my dad's employee, Shabba who happens to be Puerto Rican.

I don't think anyone knows their real names but what I do know is that all of Latin America and Caribbean shops at my pop's bodega.

Day in and day out, these group of men show my dad such strong loyalty as if they grew up together. When they're not doing odd jobs they're with my dad, joking around, drinking beer and everything is just irie. Every major holiday my father makes my mother cook feasts so he can feed his friends and customers: his 2nd family. If you calculate all the days and hours my father works, he actually spends more time with them than with his own family.  Of course it upsets me but then today I realized these are such good-hearted, wholesome individuals that only want the best for my father and brother. They would fight for them if they had to. 

Funny side story: while on vacation my father had left his huge van parked across the street from my home. When it came time to turn on the van, the van wasn't functioning. So Taliban 2 and Jason came to fix my dad's car. The homeowner, from which my dad was parked in front of, was complaining to Taliban 2 and Jason that the van should've been parked several inches forward so he can have more space to go into his driveway. Today Taliban 2 was furiously retelling the story, how he was so upset because a house could've fit in that space and how he was ready to rough up this man. 

My dad's bodega serves as an important place of gathering. From the little kid who gives his pocket change full of lint for a Hershey's cookies and cream, to the miserable man who doesn't want to pay $0.50 for a plain roll. From drug dealers to the old Haitian lady who religiously plays her lotto numbers swearing this time will be her big break. My dad's customers may be impoverished economically but they're rich of experiences, personality, love and most importantly respect. Everyone tells me how much they admire Carlos and how my pops helped them out when they didn't have money or food. I guess all that time away from home was worth it and all I could do is embrace my extended family.

Lesson Learned: You may never know how much you can learn from someone or the effect they may have on you. I'm a true believer that everything happens for a reason. If you subtract from somewhere, it must be added elsewhere. 

Chapter 3

To witness the birth of a child is our best opportunity 

to experience the meaning of the word miracle.

~ Paul Carvel

I'm not one to watch the news but this happened to be featured as a viral picture of little Nevaeh Atkins, the polite newborn that shook the hands of her delivering physician.

Take some time and appreciate the purity and beauty of this picture.

I couldn't help but smile and feel a warm, fuzzy feeling when I saw this. I witnessed my first childbirth back in March. I can't say I felt the same way. Instead I was going through the medical process, thinking about how this slimy baby looks like an alien and how intimate I became with my cousin. Not only because I saw her vagina but I was sharing one of the most important moments of her life.

Before they even know their importance, babies are influential and powerful beings. They can change an adult's outlook of life, soften a bitter heart, and provide a new dimension to love. I myself am not a mother but it seems that my family and friends have caught a serious case of baby fever. Watching these babies grow so quickly, develop their nuances of facial expressions, do the darnest things, and in the end all you can do is laugh and enjoy the moment, something as an adult we forget to do.

Sometimes we're wrapped up in our everyday routines with this large load of stress in a high paced world that we forget to stop and admire the beauty of simplicity and random moments. For just a slither of second, press pause, tilt your head and just process what's happening. This is what I find myself doing when I'm around the babies. Now I'm not telling you go steal a baby in order to have this experience but give yourself an opportunity to be innocent and see the world as a new palette.

Lesson Learned: Let the child lead you to experiences from a different perspective as they remind the adult of the beauty in life. 

Chapter 2

The power we exert over the future behavior of our children is enormous. Even after they have left home, even after we have left the world, there will always be part of us that will remain with them forever.  

-Neil Kurshan

The parentals arrived today after spending the holidays in the Dominican Republic.

Thought I missed them.

I was wrong.

Well not completely wrong.

Within the first half hour of our reunion, my driving was criticized, I was called an ungrateful child along with a slew of other insults. However, I couldn't help but laugh. These past 8 days have been so silent without my mother's bickering or my father's commands to pay the house bills. It almost just felt right to be heavily criticized, listen to my mom tell the same story to 5 different people, and smell the aroma of her chicken.

I find it funny that when I was growing up, I wanted to be so radically different from my mom. She was this overprotective, obnoxiously loud, overly voluptuous Dominican immigrant that refused to adapt to the American culture. She was an agricultural engineer in Dominican Republic and once she came to this land of opportunity, she was a factory worker for Coach assembling wallets. Talk about adapting. How could you come to a country to begin a new life and just opt to forget to learn the American rules of how to raise a teenager? I decided to take it upon myself to teach her what a curfew was, my social responsibility to partake in parties, and why it was crucial I get the latest Jordans. My mom was a terrible student though or maybe she got lost in translation.

Call me a typical, unappreciative teen but living under my mother's roof was not an option for college but what I failed to realize that my home was a safe haven. When things got rough, my bank account was overdrawn, my refrigerator was empty, my mother was there for my rescue. Now that I'm back home after 5 years, not only have I started to look more like her but I've been acting like her and to add more insult to the injury, I was told that I am just like her.

Lesson Learned: Because we are the authors of our futures, we find ourselves wanting to rewrite our destiny, changing what was naturally meant to be. There are just some inherent characteristics that we must embrace but not necessarily let it define us.

Chapter 1

Don't be fooled by the calendar.  

There are only as many days in the year as you make use of.  

~Charles Richards

 

1.1

New Years Day. 

The day we all anticipate to unrepentantly start anew. A new chapter. A new life. A new you.

We feed into great marketing strategies in which overtly suggest what our new year's resolution should be.

Exactly a year ago from today, I made contracts with my family members to see who would lose the most weight. We each pledged how much we would pay per pound lost. Well, lets just say I owe my family money. 

Have my goals changed? No. I do intend to eventually lose weight (as I reach for an Oreo). However, there's something about this pressure about creating and keeping resolutions. 

Think about it. A resolution is a firm decision to do or not do something. So we iterate this idea of wanting to do something (or not?) so that's the firm part. But do we really think it through? A plan of sustainability,budgeting, reinforcement? Ehhhh. Not really.

Let's say you beg to differ, you're convinced that THIS is the year in which you're REALLY going to stick to your resolutions because last year was just so awful. By this time your credibility is on the floor. At least mine is. Not only do you have to prove to yourself that you can do it but you have to prove to others that all the other years of noncompliance will not repeat itself this year. 

This year, I didn't make any resolutions. I'm tired of disappointing myself. I'm already a day behind writing this blog so you can only imagine whats that to say of any other firm decisions. What I do know is that my anthem for the year will be Beyonce's "I Was Here."

I propose to learn a lesson everyday. As bad or as good the day is, there must be a disguised moral of my day.

Going into the year, I was pretty miserable. I bought a $200 flashy dress that I envisioned to be worn at a club full of strangers, blasting main stream music and drinking an overpriced Malibu Bay Breeze. Instead I was in my sweatpants with bleach stains, my dog Scott and tuned into Carson Daly. I was by MYSELF on New Years Eve and this loneliness just settled in whilst the tears streamed down my face. However, just a few hours ago I was having dinner at a restaurant alone and texted someone that we should be able to enjoy our own company.

I was being selfish and stereotypical. Who is to say we HAVE to spend New Years surrounded by all the people we love or be in our best garments to welcome the NEW YEAR. What makes the other 364 days less important? Why can't I enjoy my own company without being quickly coined as a loser or stubborn? Or I can be creating a clever way of justifying my plans falling through.

My lesson learned: love thyself and the beauty of spending time with yourself. Face it, you're going to spend more time with yourself than with anyone else in your life (Alex Sanchez said it). Why not dedicate some time to yourself and self reflect?