I was just introduced to this artist. Simple lyrics, guitar but the voice does something to me. I could sit in the dark and listen to this with a glass of wine and go to lovely places.
Countdown to thirty, seven days. I had one of those dreaded conversations this last weekend with a relative. I was warned. Men get harder to find the older I get. I was counseled not to be too picky. Yeah. . . Because I forgot the part where I attach my self-worth to whether or not I am in a relationship or spawning. Settling for something is better than being alone. I avoid family gatherings to a certain extent because of those conversations. I know a big part of it cultural, Latinos are about family and the old-school relatives just don't get how a woman can be happy without a man at her side and a womb full of limbs. My dad looks at me with something akin to pity or fear at my content solitude. His whole life has been about family and he wants grandchildren. My babies are my my poems and stories. My love goes there first. If anything else comes along, cool. If not, cool. There is a big family gathering this weekend, my birthday party. The first child of this generation blazing her way, alone, into another decade. There will be raised eyebrows and pity. Whatever. I'll eat the food but I certainly won't drink the kool-aid.