Oct 05

Since this is the last installment of this part of the project, i’ll give you guys a subject that my mother constantly scrutinizes us for. Having a job. Now both me and my sister go to school and have jobs. Though my brother doesnt attend school he does have a job as well. Are you wondering why then does my mother hound us on this topic. Let me tell you. She’s happy that we go to school. She’s happy that we work. She’d be happier if we had an additional job than the one’s we already have.

All three of us actually work the weekdays and have the weekends off. I go to school very early in the morning. When that’s over i have maybe a hour or two to rest and then go straight to work. I work with 30+ kids helping them do their homework, tutoring, reading, watching them. I don’t get home till usually 7 or 8 which then i have to start work if i actually have the energy. My brother and sister come home around the same time as well and, just as i am, are exhausted. The only break we have is the weekend.

Now my mother is not happy. Nope, she is not. She believes we could still do more. Instead of hanging out with friends, watching tv, playing video games on the 2 days that we have to relax. My mother wants us to get weekend jobs as well. She believes we are being lazy and unproductive with our free time.
“Ustedes no hacen nada en la casa. Might as well go find another job. If yu want i could some of my friends if they know of any openings. I’m sure i can find each one you guys something.” you guys don’t do anything in the house.

If you consider it being lazy that i would like to have some me time, to do whatever i wanna do then go ahead. I go to school, go to work, do my homework, do whatever errand she wants me to do. I think thats’s deserving of some time off.

Although we have talked about this topic many times before, my mother continues to initiate the argument over and over again. Though we love her and we know she just wants the best for us, we try  to avoid her as much as possible. -__-

Oct 05

It’s 3am and my Dad calls me. “Someone took the van!”
Typical day/night at the Rosari house.

“Pa are you sure? You didn’t just park it some place new and forgot?”
Normally i would give anyone that would wake me up before i had to the BITCHIEST attitude in the world….butttt that’s not happening in this case. He is my father so yea.
“No Mo, did your nrother take it…is he sleeping?”
“He’s been at home with us the whole day and yea he’s sleeping. You think mayb Ma took it?”
“I just talked to her, she didn’t take it. i guess i have to report it stolen.”
“Do what you gotta do Pa.”
I end the call, close my eyes and BAM i’m out.

Morning

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP 8:15 am
Damn alarm! I thought i turned it off. Freaking Saturday and i’m u this early. Might as well take a shower before everyone else takes all the hot water.

1 hour later

           “Oh yea. So fresh and so clean, clean!”
I come out the shower, walk into the room and see Cachi awake.
“So who do you think took Papi’s car?”
I stop dead in my tracks.
“Wait, what?! That really happened, i thought it was a dream. Papi’s car really got stolen?”
“Yea. I just finished talking to him and he told me he already spoke to the police. So now we just have to wait.”
Completely swore that that was a dream. This really shouldn’t surprise me. Something’s always going on in this family. Jerry walks into the room with his eyes barely opened. Cachi tells him what happened. He stares at us and shruggs, takes Cachi’s headphones and walks right back into his room. Jay never really cared about Pa. To get some sympathy out of him for Pa would be a miracle.

“Imma call Mami to tell her what happened.” i tell Cachi while i creep into my bed. I go under my pillow and get my phone. While laying down, I call her and she picks up.
“Buenas Dias. Quien habla?” Good morning. Who’s talking?
“Hola Ma, guess what?”
“Que?”
“Someone stole Papi’s car.”
“Noooo, i have it.”
“WHAT?!”
“Yo lo tengo.” I have it.
“Papi said you told him you didn’t have it.”
“No. He asked me if Jerry took the car and i said no, He didn’t ask me if i had it.”
“MA, are you serious?! Do you think that matters? He asked about the van because he thinks it was stolen and you don’t tell him because he technically didn’t ask you. He already reported the car stolen!”
“El sabia que yo lo tenia.” He knew i had it.
“OH MY GOD! Are you listening to yourself? How is he suppose to know if you didn’t tell him!!”
“He knew”
“ARE YOU CRAZY!!? HE REPORED IT STOLEN!!! Why would he do that if he knew you had the car?”
“Because he wants to be evil.”
“Oh my god, whatever Ma, are you gonna bring it back?”
“No. It’s my car and I’m not giving it back.”
“MAMI!”
“Ya Monica, dejame en paz. Tengo que trabajar. Adios.” Leave me in peace. I have to work. Bye.

I cannot believe this woman. Cachi stares at me and shruggs. “That’s their problem now. I’m not getting involved.”

“YOUR Mother is LOCA!”

Oct 05

“Oh God..here she goes again.” I say to myself while my mother continues to bang out er speech on how we waste everything and that we’re spoiled and how we could never survive living in her country for long (although we did for two years). I look at my brother, Jerry. He looks at me and then we both turn our attention to our sister, Cassandra (aka Cachi), who is looking at us. My mother, Mabel, is in the center of us continuing on her escapade. Jerry gives us the nod to head out of the room. I look at him and give him my evil eye. Me shaking my head and raising my left eyebrow. We know our little signals and meanings. Mine basically meant “She’s talking. We leave, she’s just going to get angrier and keep on going”. Jerry and Cachi just sigh and bow their heads in defeat because they know I’m right. All three of us just stood there, giong off into our worlds. I put my palms up to my face in frustration and whisper to myself “why do we even bother?”. I go back to how this all started.

I’m groggy and sore from last night’s run. Raising my head from my pillow I see that it’s 8:30am on my alarm clock. I moan and start to shuffle in my bed, digging myself deeper into my cave of blankets and pillows. Trying to shut out the noise and light from the world isn’t working seeing as i hear Cachi singing very horribly in the kitchen.
“Cachi! What are you doing?”
“Cleaning the kitchen. Get up already, we’re gonna clean today”
I shoot up in bed and scream back “WHO’S WE?!” I don’t want to do anything. I’m sore, cranky, it’s finally the weekend , MY VACATION, and she expects me to clean!  Yeah…okay.
“WE, AS IN YOU, ME AND JERRY. WE! Help or i’m not gonna buy you that shirt you wanted.”
Ugh! Of course she has to blackmail me like that. I drop back into bed in defeat and basically spaz on my mattress. “FINE! Fine, fine, fine.”

I get out of bed and I stare at our room. Slowly I drag my feet to the kitche where she’s cleaning. Cachi stares at me with her bugged out eyes.
“Is there a reason you’re looking at me like that Ms. Piggy?”
“Did you fall asleep in your clothes again?”
I stare down at myself and sure enough i did it again. I’m still wearing my jeans, shirt, sweater and even socks that i had on yesterday.
“I didn’t even realize. I could have sworn i took them off and put on my pjs before i went to bed.”
“You always swear you did this or you were there or you saying this person was here or there with you. Stop swearing ’cause you’re always wrong! You gotta go to the doctor or something, for real. I don’t know how you’re supposedly ‘smarter’ than the whole family.”
She looked rally agitated. She always hates it when  fall asleep like that. I don’t know why, its not her falling asleep in her clothes. Why the hell should it matter to her if i occasionally fall asleep like that. I really should check my head though. The things i do are just ridiculous.

“Ok, whatever. What am i doing?”
“You’re gonna do the dishes.”
Sh knows how i DETEST cleaning the dishes. It’s grotesque. I don’t like that oily feeling or the gushiness from leftover foods. No. HELL NO!
“You’re retarded if you think I’m gonna clean the dishes. When have i ever done them…EVER?!”
“DUMBASS, SO CLEAN THE BATHROOM!”
“YOUR MOM!”
“MY MOM IS YOUR MOM!”
“THAT’S RIGHT SHE IS!”
We burst out with laughter as i walk away. I don’t know why we keep going on with that joke and laugh every time. And its not because we’re laughing just to laugh. No matter how many times we hear/say it, we genuinely laugh because we find it hysterical. We’r weird.

I walk towards my room to get my ipod and thankfully find it right on the edge of my bed. I didn’t wanna be sorting through all the junk on my bed to ind it. Alright, headphones on, ipod on shuffle…Let’s do this!

4 hours later

           “HELLOOooo! Where are my preciosuras?”
We all hear my mother yell with her spanish accent as she closes the front door. All of us exhausted we don’t even bother responding. She’d find us eventually in my brother’s room watching “13 Assassins”.
“Que paso aqui?” what happened here?
“We cleaned everything Ma” half awake Cachi responds sounding irritated that she’s asking such questiontat sheobviosly knows the anwer to. Ma looks around and decides to head for the fridge.
“Where’s all the food?!”
“In the garbage. Most of it was either rotten or expired.”
“NO, NO, NO. Estaba bien. Se lo iba dar todo alos perros!” It was good. I was gonna give it all to the dogs.
“IT WAS EXPIRED OR ROTTING! You couldn’t have gave it to the dogs!”
She’s pissed. Her face already looks like a tomato. She walks over to the sink.
“Wher’s the brillo i had here?”
Cachi turns to me and gives me a nod. I guess its my turn.
“We threw it away. It was no good.”
“NO! Adonde estan sus mentes! Eso todavia se pudia usar!” where are your brains. You could have still used that.
“NO, IT WAS NO GOOD! It was already brown and you could barely use it. It was falling apart.”
“We could have still used it, which is why i left it there.”
Jerry’s turn. “MABEL! There’s a brand new one right there, just use it.”
” Si pero the other one was still good. You guys dont know how to use things to its end. You throw everything away just like your father.”
Of course she had to bring him up. He has absolutely nothing to deal with the topic and yet she miracously never fails to weave him in to a conversation.
“That’s what your father taught you guys best. Tirar todo en la basura. You guys need to…..” to throw away everything

Sep 21

I’m known by many names. From extravagant ones like “Little One”, “Munchkin”, “Midget”, “Smurf”. To when I had my long hair I was known as “Pocahontas”, “Rapunzel”. To quirky one’s like “Mo’ Dollas”, “Monigga”, my middle name is Auxiliadora so if you break that down and translate it into English its “Help Dora”. By my family and few close friends I’m called “Mo” or “Moni”. My name is simply Monica and I’m just a student from Queens. HOLA…translation, HI!!

This will be my fifth and hopefully last year in Queens College. In my family I will be the first to go to college and actually graduate. Well, hopefully graduate…don’t want to jinx myself. My family, especially my mother is so proud I’ve made it this far. She herself went to college but unfortunately didn’t not finish. WHY, you ask. As she never fails to remind us just about every day in our lives, my siblings and I, I’ll make
sure not to fail to tell you. She didn’t complete college because she got pregnant.
Soooo instead of completing her classes, she opted to take care of us. Have I mentioned she NEVER fails to remind us? I did! Okay, well then you’ll hear it again just like I had for the past 22 years of my life.

My mother is an immigrant from Ecuador and finds education as EXTREMELY important. She explains that in her country, “yes the academic system is good, but in the United States its better”. She wants us to utilize all the opportunities we have as being born American that she and many others, as immigrants, do not. She wants us to excel in whatever we do in life, to do “whatever we want”. I put those words in quotes because “whatever we want” in her interpretation is getting a college degree. As long as we do that she’ll be happy. That and her finally owning a house she worked so hard for. Again, never failing to remind us how difficult things are for her because she’s not from this country and how easy it is for us because we’re “American”. Picture me saying “American” in high shrill squeaky voice.

In my blog I’m going to write all the little things that my mother complains about and some of her crazy actions. My mother is one hell of a woman. Good and bad.

All this Bruhaha is Tiring