.pinche gabacha.

Written from the airport last Wednesday:

                  Oi gente! I hope everyone is doing absolutely magnificent. As mentioned before, I am going to share with you the entire trajectory I have been going through these past couple of days. Yes, the ENTIRE past two days! As I write this, I find myself in a small airport in the city of Burbank surrounded by a bunch of older folks who are no where near my age, which means I do not have anyone to hang out with while I wait for check-in to start because I got here too early… WAHHH! What this also means is that I have created room for one of my favorite, but rare, hobbies in the whole wide world—writing at airports. I can also use this time to practice my patience, while Vegas waits for me.

                  It seems as though airports have a bad reputation. To be honest, I do not understand why this is the case. I actually LOVE airports, even if the only potential new friends I can make rock a head of white hair, or no hair, or too much hair (there is no in-between). As much as I enjoy having company most times, I feel as though I enjoy airports much more when I fly solo.  I get to study people without worrying about Allen yelling in my ear, “MECHE!” 

                  All the non-chismosos out there should stop complaining about airports and think about them as potential meet-and-greet areas, or as is in my case, meet-a-famous-person-like-Jennifer Hudson-or-Amber-Rose-and-get-start-struck-because-you-do-not-hang-out-with-famous-people-too-often areas. I think I am doing better with my SSS (Star-Struck Syndrome). I have managed to go up to some of my favorite artists recently, without completely freezing up in front of them while they give me a what-the-fuck look.              

    Today, Thursday the 24^th of May, 2012, I did something that was long over due. I finally became a U.S. citizen after TWENTY-ONE years! I do not feel any different. I feel as though I have been Americanized so much, that this whole process was just a way to formalize it. It is a bittersweet feeling, as one of my friends mentioned, because you are expected to give up loyalty to whichever country you are originally from. Even though I have no clear memory of what it was like to live in Mexico when I was a baby, my identity is deeply rooted in Jalisco, Mexico chingao!

Do I look like a U.S. Citizen?

The ceremony was not too bad. I wasn't prepared for so much patriotic music though...

Top: Thrifted

Belt: H&M

Sandals: H&M

Purse: H&M

Cardi: H&M