Sister to Sister

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To my sister:

First, how did it happen? How did you go from putting your bangs in a colita, to using hair straighteners, and MAC Cosmetics? How is it possible to hold on to time so that you can stay this way forever? If I could, I’d stop it. Right now. There are so many things left unsaid each and every day. So here’s my way of summarizing it, before you grow up even more. Continue reading

The Public Library

I really was trying my hardest not to type in WordPress in my URL. I  need to do homework. Especially the 4 essays that are on my prep list that my professor wanted to give us the 2nd week of classes. I need to knuckle down, man. I was trying so hard to not go on WordPress, but being here in the public library, there are just so many things to blog about. Don’t get me wrong, public libraries are awesome when home is too loud to study or when the patio is just too damp to concentrate. In that case, the public library is the best friend.

So I sit here. Trying my best to do my research paper on C. Chavez and the Grape Boycott when this extremely handsome, well suited, nicely shaven, deliciously smelling business man props himself right next to me. Right next to this exact computer. Briefcase and all, he sits and with a beautiful grin on his face he turns his head and grins. AT ME. Agh. 

I cannot help myself but flush and smile this corny little girl smile, like I just heard daddy say he’s taking me to the carnival. I’m helpless. Suddenly I find myself typing at a slower pace than my normal 79 wpm. 

“Can I borrow your pen?” (!!!! :O !!!!) Here I am smiling like a total idiot as I stare at my pen not even believing he’s talking to me. “It writes in purple, ” I say embarrassed. Dammit Danna, you need to start carrying the professional colored pens, my conscience growls“I think my boss will be amused.” I hand it to him and in a not so creepy way, I stare at him as he sways the pen left to right as he writes. He hands me my pen while barely brushing his arm against mine and says, “Thanks, very smooth,” 

Is he talking about my pen or my skin? Definitely not your skin, you weirdo. She says again.

I freeze and stare at my screen and from the corner of my face I see his grin. He licks his lips and releases a chuckle. Instinctively, I look at him; regretting it the minute I do. 

“You’re a fast typer.” 

“‘Typer’ isn’t a word. Thanks…,” Dammit. Why did I just correct this handsome, important looking man? Do I have to ruin everything? He turns as he arches his thick dark eyebrows at me and says, “You see this suit? When a professor says a word, don’t correct him. Especially when its a well-given compliment to a very pretty girl.”

OMG. Someone wake me up! …wait, he’s a professor? WHAT? he’s so young looking and so… so hot. 

I smile and I keep typing slower than ever. He notices, “Please, don’t slow down. You’re pretty fast. I like.” Woah.

People stare and I flush. I can feel my olive skin tone turn red. He winks. 

Oh my. 

I try to ignore him as I dig in my back pack in hopes of escaping from this man who is absorbing my concentration. “Did you find it?” LOL I laugh out of nervousness and I scream to my conscience, KILL ME. “What? Huh? Find what?” I say blankly and not to mention, stupidly. “What ever it is that your desperately in search for, ” he smiles that awfully, incredible grin.

“Where do you teach at?” I have no idea where that came from, but I needed to get him off my back. “I’m an online professor.”

“You have to dress that way to teach kids online?

“No, I have to dress this way if I want to see a very pretty girl like you.”

I die. Right there. I stare at him as he tries to find the words that are trying to escape from my lips. I just smile. And again, I flush. All awkwardly and such. You’re such a dork. “T-th-thank you. i studder. 

“What are you studying?”

“English. Grape Boycott.”

“Oh, very well then. History and English, my favorite.”

“Mhm,” is the only thing that I could muster out. 

“How long until you leave?”

Am I annoying him? “Soon. As soon as I get more info on Cesar Chavez.”

“Oh,” he raises his eye brows again, killing me once more.

I try to block him out as he pulls out his iphone. I continue to type and he interrupts me by clearing his throat.

Staring at him, I grab my water bottle and wait for whatever he about to say with that profound look on his face. 

“I hear the coffee shop across the street has great coffee. Care to join, miss.”

“Please don’t do that. I’m Danna.”

“Danna. Fits you. Would you care to grab coffee? I can help you gather some info on Mr. Chavez’s impacting movement.”

I look at him. Part of me is so ecstatic and fluttery, and my conscience part is annoyed, trying to just get work done. I grab my pens and notebooks and put them in my bag. 

“I hear the Espresso is great,” I say, even surprising myself. 

“Espresso it is.”

We both get up and I see the faces of the other people. Oh man.

“Wait, who are you? I didn’t even bother asking. I’m so sorry!” I say so embarrassed. 

“it’s the suit, I’m telling you. It’s Luc.”

Luc. Luc the most handsome, well-suited, delicious smelling business man I have ever met in the public library. I follow him out the door to our cars. And I definitely cherish the moment. He holds open the door for me along with the crowd coming in and out. I watch as he moves so delicately yet so impacting. Greeting the strangers that look at him looking at me. We walk in noisy silence and I can’t help but stare at his dark complexion as it glistens with the sun rays. 

“Danna… Danna…” I open my eyes and I see Meredith, the cute little librarian softly touching my shoulder, begging me to wake. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I guess the Grape Boycott wore me out,” I say, turning my head towards the computers in hopes of finding Luc.

“Are you almost finished? You’ve been here since this morning non-stop studying, you need to rest. You work in 2 hours.” I glance at my phone. 14:47. 

“I better go. It’s a good 35 minute drive. Thank you,” I say, still confused.

“Have a great day Danna, get some coffee or something. Take care.” I frown as I wave, “See you tomorrow, Ms. Mer.

Disappointingly I pack up my things and start for the exit.

An espresso sure sounds yummy.

😉

-Danna

 

 

A Few Words

I’m a brand new blogger. I’ve always wanted to do this; write for the public. I was just afraid that my writing would be stolen or something awkward of that nature. So I just kept it to myself in my journals. Thing is, I don’t want to just write for me anymore. I want for others to be able to read my stuff, for them to know that there’s always going to be light after the tunnel, we just have to want it. And really, that’s what my writing is all about: Inspiration.

See, writing has helped me cope with many things. Things I didn’t know I could possibly experience. Writing has been there when humans weren’t and even when they were. Writing is like my drug. It gets me high in the sky when I feel so low that I want to go. And when I say go, I mean go. Writing has saved my life in ways that best friends couldnt. I don’t write because I want to anymore, I write because my feelings demand to lay on paper.

I want to do many things with my writing. One of them is save someone’s life. If I don’t get many readers, then that’s fine, but if I make a difference in at least ONE individual, I have done my job. I just don’t want anyone to give up no matter the struggle.

I’m here to tell you that you are good enough for every damn thing in this life. For every single thing. You have to go get it, that’s not enough though, you have to WANT it too. Fine! Don’t believe in yourself, but I will. I know you’re better than what you say you are. I know for a fact that you have something great up your sleeve, but you’re just afraid. I kow it. I’m the same way…

Look, I’m going to tell you a little story of mine; something that changed my life forever, but you have to hang on until the next time I blog so you can read it.

Hang in there & don’t forget: You’re Scarred with Strength.
-danna

Who I am & What I do

I could say I’m just a chick typing behind a screen, but that’d be the first and only lie you’d have from me. Truth is, I am a female behind a screen typing some words down, I’m the girl at that table across from you with headphones in her ears and a Starbuck’s Venti Mocha Frap right next to her for company. I’m the girl sitting down by the window scribbling away in a gold trimmed journal. I’m the girl wanting to make a difference in the world just like everyone else who claims the same. But that’s what makes me different, I’m going to be the one to make it happen.

I want to be someone’s inspiration, someone’s light at the end of the tunnel. I want to be the reason people decide to check the end of that tunnel for that light. I’ve been through some pretty tough poo, and I’m still here. My reason to blog is for that; to serve as someone’s motivation to never give up.

I hope that by blogging I can make a difference. I hope, pray and wish that my writing will serve as someone’s reason to put down the blade and return the pills back to the cabinet. My only dream is to be there when someone needs me. I know how lonely nights can get and to a point, days can get darker than nights; I know it. Just don’t give up. Ever. 

Read, comment, email me, or whatever. I’m one of those freaks who answers to everybody because I believe everyone deserves a chance at this life. Keep on keeping on. In the end you’re a survivor. We all are.

You’re scarred with strength, and don’t ever be ashamed of that.

-danna