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.
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