Okay..lets talk about how much I hate the mother in this book. She is just a huge bundle of hate and selfishness. Since when are parents the ones that hold their kids back from accomplishing things in their lives. Like what kid actually wants to change diapers all their life and help feed adults through straws. DISGUSTING. I would not want to live at all, rather then living that life.
Anyways, Pedro is a little despicable as well. Just cause your in love, doesn't necessarily mean you have to like do whatever they want, or be whoever they need. I don't know, Pedro doesn't seem to know that about life.
Food is very prominent in this story. Tita constantly related her life to that of food because of the setting in which she grew up. She grew up around a kitchen. Tita is hesitant when asking if Pedro could come see her because Mama Elena is kind of a hard-ass who doesn't put up with much. Mama gets offended by Titas question because in this story, the youngest daughter is expected to obstain from marriage so that the girl can care for her mother; this is a very traditional value that Mama expects to be upheld in her household.
Because the values in this household are so important, Tita walks away from her mother and says she understands why Pedro cannot come see her, but underneath she is very upset because she is in love with him and he mother just doesn't understand. A few days later, Pedro comes to the house anyways, to see Tita. However, he is introduced to the eldest sister and Mama offers up he hand in marriage; Pedro accepts. Titas' heart is broken but she cannot express this. So like, its even heartbreaking when a friend, or a best friend starts dating a boy that you may have been previously involved with. But a sister? I can't imagine the pain that Tita feels. I would forever resent and hate my sister. Tita isn't even allowed to hate her, because she has to settle and pretend a life of taking care of her mother is fulfilling enough.
Friday, June 19, 2015
Common App Essay
6.19.15
A story that has made me who I am today.
Sometimes, a lot of the time actually, I want to escape the thoughts in my head. I react to big events lightly, never accepting the real weight of bad events taking place around me. I actually kind of enjoy this trait. This is a trait that has been essential to my character since day one on this earth. This "essential" trait I speak of changed 2 years ago. This change forced me into a more serious reality then I was living before. This reality knocked me out of whatever alternative, unrealistic world I was living in. My Grandpa died two years ago. This is not a sob story in which I expect sympathy, I went through substantial growth during this period, and I wouldn't take a second of it away. Grandpa Wetzel, a jokester of a man who also was very traditional in his values stayed in a hospice for 6 months, where I visited him. I walked into his room and realized he has gone to the bathroom all over himself, and his bed. I giggled, maybe because I was uncomfortable. My Grandpa goes "honey you shouldn't be laughing, this is humiliating.". Now, understanding what humiliation feels like when someone points out your pants zipper is undone is far different then the kind of anguish my Grandpa was feeling. So, in that moment, I grew up, took a stand, and cleaned him up. From that point on, I tried to stay by his side until one day God took him away in his big, welcoming hands. My grandpa was in a better place now so, how could I be sad?. After his death, my grandma told me a little more about who my grandpa really was. It was all negative bullshit I wish I never heard. He has, throughout their lives together, hit my grandma and treated my dad like he wasn't as good as the man I know him to be. I guess this should've changed my outlook on who my grandpa was, but it didn't. People change. Things change. People move on, so I moved on. His death exemplified, even if this sounds rude, how I don't want to live my life and how I don't want to treat people. So I'm going to take this opportunity to thank my Grandpa Wetzel, for being who he was. Whether it was good or bad, he lived with no regrets and loved his family. I also want to thank him for raising the best dad ever. And I mean ever. I see my grandpa in my father every single day, all the positive attributes that were within my Grandpas heart, are in my fathers. He is a man of kindness, of traditional values, and of love. Without my grandpa, and without his death, I would not today understand what the true meaning of life is. Life is kindness. Life is hard work. Life is jokes. Life is love. Love is family.
A story that has made me who I am today.
Sometimes, a lot of the time actually, I want to escape the thoughts in my head. I react to big events lightly, never accepting the real weight of bad events taking place around me. I actually kind of enjoy this trait. This is a trait that has been essential to my character since day one on this earth. This "essential" trait I speak of changed 2 years ago. This change forced me into a more serious reality then I was living before. This reality knocked me out of whatever alternative, unrealistic world I was living in. My Grandpa died two years ago. This is not a sob story in which I expect sympathy, I went through substantial growth during this period, and I wouldn't take a second of it away. Grandpa Wetzel, a jokester of a man who also was very traditional in his values stayed in a hospice for 6 months, where I visited him. I walked into his room and realized he has gone to the bathroom all over himself, and his bed. I giggled, maybe because I was uncomfortable. My Grandpa goes "honey you shouldn't be laughing, this is humiliating.". Now, understanding what humiliation feels like when someone points out your pants zipper is undone is far different then the kind of anguish my Grandpa was feeling. So, in that moment, I grew up, took a stand, and cleaned him up. From that point on, I tried to stay by his side until one day God took him away in his big, welcoming hands. My grandpa was in a better place now so, how could I be sad?. After his death, my grandma told me a little more about who my grandpa really was. It was all negative bullshit I wish I never heard. He has, throughout their lives together, hit my grandma and treated my dad like he wasn't as good as the man I know him to be. I guess this should've changed my outlook on who my grandpa was, but it didn't. People change. Things change. People move on, so I moved on. His death exemplified, even if this sounds rude, how I don't want to live my life and how I don't want to treat people. So I'm going to take this opportunity to thank my Grandpa Wetzel, for being who he was. Whether it was good or bad, he lived with no regrets and loved his family. I also want to thank him for raising the best dad ever. And I mean ever. I see my grandpa in my father every single day, all the positive attributes that were within my Grandpas heart, are in my fathers. He is a man of kindness, of traditional values, and of love. Without my grandpa, and without his death, I would not today understand what the true meaning of life is. Life is kindness. Life is hard work. Life is jokes. Life is love. Love is family.
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
Failure
6.4.2015
So...lets talk about failure.
Emotional failure is incredibly different from most failures. You feel drained and disappointed in yourself, rather then physically failing an activity...which is still incredibly disappointing.
When I feel like I've disappointed my parents, that's when I know I did something wrong and failed the expectations they hold so highly in their head/hearts for me.
A month ago or so, my mom left her home in New Paltz to go visit her parents in Florida. Okay... so lets take a quick second to think about this, what parent leaves their 17 year old daughter in an empty house for week and expects them not to do something "mischievous", as mother would say. So going against her word, I had a few friends over. A window got broken, the fire extinguisher was ripped out of the wall, an ice cube tray broke and the thermostat was shattered. Whopps.
Of course I kept this from her, but when she got home it took her a good 10 minutes to realize something was off in the house... even though I fixed all broken items in the house!!!!!! Anyways, she yelled and yelled at me trying to get me to admit to having a party; I did no such thing thought, I stood my ground. She still knew I did it though, she knows me a little too well.
When she started crying, I knew I really f**ked up. I failed the trust that she had held so unconditionally for me, which really wasn't fair to her when I thought about it. She gives me basically everything I need, provides for me even if its not in her best interest and most importantly, she loved me unconditionally.
So like two weeks later I admitted it too her and she didn't even care. I think she lost the will to punish something she had little to no control over. She understood why I did what I did but she still stated "I am incredibly disappointed in you", and hearing that from your favorite person in the world hurts.
I think I learned a lot from this failure..or maybe you can't even call it a failure. But, I learned to just be straight with my mother, even if it means getting punished. I learned punishment and being up front about something is worth the risk rather then loosing the trust of the people that care most for you in the world. Now, I am not saying im never gonna lie to my mom again, but maybe I just shouldn't go behind her back and have a party where I put her in a position to loose trust for me. Or maybe I will, who knows..I take her love for granted a little bit. But what can I say, im 17 years old and im just tryna live a lil.
6.4.2015
So...lets talk about failure.
Emotional failure is incredibly different from most failures. You feel drained and disappointed in yourself, rather then physically failing an activity...which is still incredibly disappointing.
When I feel like I've disappointed my parents, that's when I know I did something wrong and failed the expectations they hold so highly in their head/hearts for me.
A month ago or so, my mom left her home in New Paltz to go visit her parents in Florida. Okay... so lets take a quick second to think about this, what parent leaves their 17 year old daughter in an empty house for week and expects them not to do something "mischievous", as mother would say. So going against her word, I had a few friends over. A window got broken, the fire extinguisher was ripped out of the wall, an ice cube tray broke and the thermostat was shattered. Whopps.
Of course I kept this from her, but when she got home it took her a good 10 minutes to realize something was off in the house... even though I fixed all broken items in the house!!!!!! Anyways, she yelled and yelled at me trying to get me to admit to having a party; I did no such thing thought, I stood my ground. She still knew I did it though, she knows me a little too well.
When she started crying, I knew I really f**ked up. I failed the trust that she had held so unconditionally for me, which really wasn't fair to her when I thought about it. She gives me basically everything I need, provides for me even if its not in her best interest and most importantly, she loved me unconditionally.
So like two weeks later I admitted it too her and she didn't even care. I think she lost the will to punish something she had little to no control over. She understood why I did what I did but she still stated "I am incredibly disappointed in you", and hearing that from your favorite person in the world hurts.
I think I learned a lot from this failure..or maybe you can't even call it a failure. But, I learned to just be straight with my mother, even if it means getting punished. I learned punishment and being up front about something is worth the risk rather then loosing the trust of the people that care most for you in the world. Now, I am not saying im never gonna lie to my mom again, but maybe I just shouldn't go behind her back and have a party where I put her in a position to loose trust for me. Or maybe I will, who knows..I take her love for granted a little bit. But what can I say, im 17 years old and im just tryna live a lil.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Abuse of Power
5.27.15
Hundreds of years ago, we had kings and queens that ruled their nations' with ever growing, uncontrollable power; this often led to an abuse of power by authority which led to unhappy people that started to become uneasy. So today, instead of kings and queens, we have presidents, mayors, senators, etc... and a police force.
I'm so baffled by what is put in the news, how police officers are killing citizens that have done very little wrong. How an individual may be walking down a sidewalk, is spotted by a police officer, and runs in fear of being falsely accused of a crime. This raises the essential question, that everyone thinks about...shouldn't we be trusting our officers? the ones that have the power to throw us in jail or claim we're innocent and guilty.
I have such a fear of authority mainly because I have never been given a reason to trust the ones that hold power of me, I have never been treated fairly or as equal to a police officer which causes me so much frustration. I want to have trust in them, but they give me no reason too. So I decide to ignore them and try and not get caught by them.
When driving down the busy roads of New Paltz, I spot an officers car trying to makes its way into the overwhelming traffic that fills the towns streets. However, when that car is denied entry, I see its sirens start beeping and all the cars pull over and allow the police officer entry onto the road. That is an abuse of power. But who's going to stop them? No one is there to control the ones that hold all this power, and that's what the problem is. An abuse of power is sparked from ego. Police officers have such big egos that their power and authority over all citizens is over used and often, over abused. Please inform me, in a factual sense, why officers should be able to carry guns everyday and everywhere while there are restrictions on citizens even owning a gun, this brings about a whole new issue. I hate guns. Gun laws are weird and don't make much sense to me. How can one state make laws about not owning a gun, but other can..it definitely needs to be a universal law.
I mean I really don't blame officers for letting the power that they have go to their head, it would go to my head to but I mean, its definitely time to address the issue as its pretty pertinent to everyone no matter what society you are apart of.
It just makes me so angry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want to be president just so I can fix this f***ed up system which runs our world. Like the first law I would implement is that police officers carry rubber bullets, which initially do the same amount of damage, but in the end won't take the life of an innocent human....I feel like people would like that and would elect me based pretty much on that premise.
I have so much more to say about this but its kind of hard to have this conversation with myself, so if your interested, come up to me and ask me about it. Ill have some important shit to say.
Hundreds of years ago, we had kings and queens that ruled their nations' with ever growing, uncontrollable power; this often led to an abuse of power by authority which led to unhappy people that started to become uneasy. So today, instead of kings and queens, we have presidents, mayors, senators, etc... and a police force.
I'm so baffled by what is put in the news, how police officers are killing citizens that have done very little wrong. How an individual may be walking down a sidewalk, is spotted by a police officer, and runs in fear of being falsely accused of a crime. This raises the essential question, that everyone thinks about...shouldn't we be trusting our officers? the ones that have the power to throw us in jail or claim we're innocent and guilty.
I have such a fear of authority mainly because I have never been given a reason to trust the ones that hold power of me, I have never been treated fairly or as equal to a police officer which causes me so much frustration. I want to have trust in them, but they give me no reason too. So I decide to ignore them and try and not get caught by them.
When driving down the busy roads of New Paltz, I spot an officers car trying to makes its way into the overwhelming traffic that fills the towns streets. However, when that car is denied entry, I see its sirens start beeping and all the cars pull over and allow the police officer entry onto the road. That is an abuse of power. But who's going to stop them? No one is there to control the ones that hold all this power, and that's what the problem is. An abuse of power is sparked from ego. Police officers have such big egos that their power and authority over all citizens is over used and often, over abused. Please inform me, in a factual sense, why officers should be able to carry guns everyday and everywhere while there are restrictions on citizens even owning a gun, this brings about a whole new issue. I hate guns. Gun laws are weird and don't make much sense to me. How can one state make laws about not owning a gun, but other can..it definitely needs to be a universal law.
I mean I really don't blame officers for letting the power that they have go to their head, it would go to my head to but I mean, its definitely time to address the issue as its pretty pertinent to everyone no matter what society you are apart of.
It just makes me so angry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want to be president just so I can fix this f***ed up system which runs our world. Like the first law I would implement is that police officers carry rubber bullets, which initially do the same amount of damage, but in the end won't take the life of an innocent human....I feel like people would like that and would elect me based pretty much on that premise.
I have so much more to say about this but its kind of hard to have this conversation with myself, so if your interested, come up to me and ask me about it. Ill have some important shit to say.
Monday, May 18, 2015
Happy Place
5.27.15
I have two sisters; one that's only 3 years older then myself, and one that's 6.
or about 2 hours yesterday, Sophie, myself and my other sister, Avery sat in my room, watch a show called "Archer" and died my sisters hair. This is my happy place. Nothing can beat laughing, talking and joking around with my two favorite people in the comfort of my room. The smell of my sister smoking a cigarette overwhelms me with a remembrance of when she lived full time in New Paltz; although an unhealthy habit, I love the memories the smell grants me, not that I've ever smoked a cigarette or know the taste. I know its not a specific place, but being in my sisters presence allows me unconditional happiness. Maybe because we're so similar in the things we do, the way we act, or our sense of humor, but I can't relate to anyone better then her.
Sophia, my eldest sister, recently moved to North Carolina and it put me into a sort of shock. Its kinda like when people say "you don't know what you got til its gone,", I didn't really appreciate or understand how important Sophia's influence was in my life. When I visited her at her new house, we found a place where we were both emotionally and physically content, and made it our happy place. So we started going there everyday and just talking, even if we didn't have much too say. We had our coffees and some food and that's all we really needed or wanted, as long as we had each other by our sides. She'll tell me about the new job she acquired, teaching young kids how to play the viola, I find myself feeling incredibly happy and proud of her, as I always am when talking with Sophie. Its nice to be unbiased to someone's happiness, because there is no jealousy or resentment involved, just bliss. That's how I know I really, really love someone. I can just listen to them, without any beneficial factor to myself.
As we speak, my sisters is home in New Paltz, sleeping. So I guess my happy place is always changing as it doesn't much have to do with where I am but who I am with.
When I was younger, I would steal her stuff like everyday, it got a little excessive; she despised me... to say the least. It made me feel like a shitty person but what can I say, I was trying to be more like her.
My happiness, a lot of the time is dependent on the people I'm spending my time with, so when I think about the place im happiest, it always comes back to my family, especially Sophie. I know its kinda unhealthy to depend on someone else for your happiness, which I don't do completely, however without even knowing it, Sophie makes me 1000x happier when she grants me her presence.
Its kinda funny because when she goes back to the Carolinas, to join her boyfriend, we don't call each other and we barely text. But we're always there...in some sort of spiritual and weird sense. We got a good thing going on.
She left New Paltz again, and is now in North Carolina. Even so, the friendship we share never falters or changes with the distance, Ill always have her and will always be proud of her, no matter what path she follows.
I have two sisters; one that's only 3 years older then myself, and one that's 6.
or about 2 hours yesterday, Sophie, myself and my other sister, Avery sat in my room, watch a show called "Archer" and died my sisters hair. This is my happy place. Nothing can beat laughing, talking and joking around with my two favorite people in the comfort of my room. The smell of my sister smoking a cigarette overwhelms me with a remembrance of when she lived full time in New Paltz; although an unhealthy habit, I love the memories the smell grants me, not that I've ever smoked a cigarette or know the taste. I know its not a specific place, but being in my sisters presence allows me unconditional happiness. Maybe because we're so similar in the things we do, the way we act, or our sense of humor, but I can't relate to anyone better then her.
Sophia, my eldest sister, recently moved to North Carolina and it put me into a sort of shock. Its kinda like when people say "you don't know what you got til its gone,", I didn't really appreciate or understand how important Sophia's influence was in my life. When I visited her at her new house, we found a place where we were both emotionally and physically content, and made it our happy place. So we started going there everyday and just talking, even if we didn't have much too say. We had our coffees and some food and that's all we really needed or wanted, as long as we had each other by our sides. She'll tell me about the new job she acquired, teaching young kids how to play the viola, I find myself feeling incredibly happy and proud of her, as I always am when talking with Sophie. Its nice to be unbiased to someone's happiness, because there is no jealousy or resentment involved, just bliss. That's how I know I really, really love someone. I can just listen to them, without any beneficial factor to myself.
As we speak, my sisters is home in New Paltz, sleeping. So I guess my happy place is always changing as it doesn't much have to do with where I am but who I am with.
When I was younger, I would steal her stuff like everyday, it got a little excessive; she despised me... to say the least. It made me feel like a shitty person but what can I say, I was trying to be more like her.
My happiness, a lot of the time is dependent on the people I'm spending my time with, so when I think about the place im happiest, it always comes back to my family, especially Sophie. I know its kinda unhealthy to depend on someone else for your happiness, which I don't do completely, however without even knowing it, Sophie makes me 1000x happier when she grants me her presence.
Its kinda funny because when she goes back to the Carolinas, to join her boyfriend, we don't call each other and we barely text. But we're always there...in some sort of spiritual and weird sense. We got a good thing going on.
She left New Paltz again, and is now in North Carolina. Even so, the friendship we share never falters or changes with the distance, Ill always have her and will always be proud of her, no matter what path she follows.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
One Memory
May 14 2014-8:30am
A little memory
My father has always been a "do it yourself" kind of guy; so he decided to build his family a house. About a year into it, with the help of about 100 friends, myself, my two sisters, and my mom, we were making incredible progress.
I always looked up to my father more then I did with my mother, at least at this point in my life. I wanted to figure things out for myself and be independent from the advice of others, although I still listened.
One day, my cousins, my two sisters and I were playing around with big logs that were meant to be put in the roof my new house. The logs were bigger then me...at least twice my size. But my sisters and cousins, all of whom are at least 3 years older then myself were picking them up...so why wouldn't I be able too?
Well the log fell on me and I nearly broke my leg in two. I cried and cried, screamed, and cried some more. I think it affected me knowing my strength was not equal to that of my sisters, or any of my cousins. I still tried to push myself, even after I initially hurt myself, why I did that I don't know but I do know and understand that im someone who has trouble excepting failure...I just wanna keep going. I hate that an object or a person actually has the power to restrain you from moving forward in life. It drives me absolutely insane and makes my stomach uneasy. But I guess I got no control over it, so maybe I should just let it go.
This experience kind of shot me into a weird, and uncomfortable epiphany that made me a little uneasy, or maybe it was just a long awaited realization. Either way, I learned something valuable about myself, even if I didn't wanna learn it, because when I dropped that log on my leg, after my father told me "I just wouldn't be able to do it...like the other kids" I realized it was okay to not be able to do what others can. I know, its a small and boring memory, and it kind of seems cliché that I'm relating it to this big life realization, but that's how things seem to go for me. I go through life thinking one thing, and then bam!! one day, my minds shifts and my beliefs, not only about others, but about myself are changed. I learned that I am okay with being myself, and not others...that sounds strange but I believe that a lot of people are uncomfortable with who they really are, and it makes me very happy that this seemingly insignificant memory changed the way I thought about others and most importantly, who I was and who I wanted to become.
A little memory
My father has always been a "do it yourself" kind of guy; so he decided to build his family a house. About a year into it, with the help of about 100 friends, myself, my two sisters, and my mom, we were making incredible progress.
I always looked up to my father more then I did with my mother, at least at this point in my life. I wanted to figure things out for myself and be independent from the advice of others, although I still listened.
One day, my cousins, my two sisters and I were playing around with big logs that were meant to be put in the roof my new house. The logs were bigger then me...at least twice my size. But my sisters and cousins, all of whom are at least 3 years older then myself were picking them up...so why wouldn't I be able too?
Well the log fell on me and I nearly broke my leg in two. I cried and cried, screamed, and cried some more. I think it affected me knowing my strength was not equal to that of my sisters, or any of my cousins. I still tried to push myself, even after I initially hurt myself, why I did that I don't know but I do know and understand that im someone who has trouble excepting failure...I just wanna keep going. I hate that an object or a person actually has the power to restrain you from moving forward in life. It drives me absolutely insane and makes my stomach uneasy. But I guess I got no control over it, so maybe I should just let it go.
This experience kind of shot me into a weird, and uncomfortable epiphany that made me a little uneasy, or maybe it was just a long awaited realization. Either way, I learned something valuable about myself, even if I didn't wanna learn it, because when I dropped that log on my leg, after my father told me "I just wouldn't be able to do it...like the other kids" I realized it was okay to not be able to do what others can. I know, its a small and boring memory, and it kind of seems cliché that I'm relating it to this big life realization, but that's how things seem to go for me. I go through life thinking one thing, and then bam!! one day, my minds shifts and my beliefs, not only about others, but about myself are changed. I learned that I am okay with being myself, and not others...that sounds strange but I believe that a lot of people are uncomfortable with who they really are, and it makes me very happy that this seemingly insignificant memory changed the way I thought about others and most importantly, who I was and who I wanted to become.
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