You are my Hero, the one I look up to the image of what I want to become…

You are the one I look up to and I see the image of what I want to become. You have lived a hard life, battling family, strangers, hunger, pain and discrimination. That didn’t stop you from fighting back, to stand up to what you believe in. Protecting the young, standing in front of someone that cannot fight back.

You are my hero, the one I look up to the imagine of what I want to become. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t know how to be a decent human being. Your leadership is an example many should try to implement, it is horrigying how many opt for hatered and division. You though, you stand alone even though your surrounded. 

You are my hero, the one I look up to the image of what I want to become. Even though some fights you fell you managed to get back up and keep fighting. Even though your spirit would falter you wouldn’t let it break. You knew that fighting for good could get you killed, banned, and mocked. You stand here tall with pride and with unwavering faith.

You are my hero, the one I look up to the image of what I want to become. I have just started my life but seeing your example I try to follow your footsteps. I am proud to be called one of your one, to stand against evil and to be a warrior of God. Many will falter, will change their convictions and run to become the weak. 

I give you my word of honor that I will not falter, I have been tested and there will be more. I will stand as tall as the sky and wide as the oceans. I will be unrelenting, I will be the force that protects the weak, the victims and yes even the cowards. I will forever be the warrior of God as I have always been and if my life is forfieted then I will relenquish it if I know that the innocent are protected.

We are a few but we are a force that will not let hate or evil keep winning. This is my revolution this is my war I will stand and fight,, I will stand as my hero before me did.

You are my hero, the one I look up to the image of what I want to become.
Until Next Time,


ICloud App – Rant (Very Frustrated!)

Okay so I know a couple of days if not week I spoke about how I found this GREAT app in order for me to continue writing my story. Well I do still like it the only thing is that today out of all days!

IT DOESN’T WANT TO WORK! All morning I have been trying to get it to load up then when it finally does I only get two hours of actual editing done when it freezes on me! I know app’s aren’t perfect but I really want’ed to finish editing it today so I can publish the chapters not only on here but also on Wattpad.

I mean, I can still work on it through hubbies computer tonight but when he comes home editing is done and all I do is upload so like that we only have our time together.

Now I might just upload chapter 4 since it is already done and wait until tomorrow night or weekend to finish and upload chapter 5.

I know I said I wanted it all done by COB today so I can post. Sorry doubt it is going to happen now. At least hopefully I’ll get chapter 4 on here and wattpad.

Until Next Time,

Abbreviation should be limited! (Rant)

Okay this is more of a rant then anything else so I apologize to the readers that follow me. This is not my normal but hey who said this blog or me are normal.

First off I understand that this is a new generation, more writing is done through our IPhone’s, IPad, etc. I’m okay with that. I’m okay with the short version of LOL or OMG (laughing out loud or Oh My God), type of expression that I put on a text or blog occasionally. I’m even okay on putting USMC (United States Marine Corps), DOD (Department of Defense), you get the gist. I’m even okay when you are taking down notes and need to write things down quickly and you don’t know the art of short hand.

For example:
Sub. wnt dwnstrs and prceeded to stab vic. ft. prints otlne by the vics bld shows a pattern sub tk. Sub has ble eyes, blnd hair and is wht.

Subject went downstairs and proceeded to stab victim. Foot prints outline by the victims blood shows a pattern of the subject took. Subject has blue eyes, blonde hair and is white.

In those instances I am okay with short abbreviation of words, we do it in the military too. I’m sure in a lot of profession’s you have abbreviation of words to make your life easier. I understand that kids or people my age 32 (not old but not stupid young either), use this form of writing in a social (phone or chatting) settings.

What I don’t agree with this form of writing is when I am reading a blog post that I’m really interested in reading. I do have on occasion LOL’s, OMG, SMLH’s etc. on my post. When you have those abbreviations on almost every SINGLE sentence, your KILLING ME HERE! I know that my grammar, punctuation and spelling needs a lot of work. I am doing my best to make sure that with every post, twitter, facebook and google+ update that I write has a well written constructed thought. Yes I might put a few lol or maybe even OMG occasionally, I don’t make it a habit and I don’t use abbreviation’s as if they were down right appropriate words ( I know I am said this already but can you blame me?).

I know I’m old fashion and I am doing my best to get into the “now” scene of writing but there a a few things in my life that I like to stay old school. Especially when it is reading or writing, This is one of the oldest form of communication and art that it’s frustrating seeing people getting away from it.

I am not an editor, I am not a teacher, but I am a person that enjoys a good post or feed especially when I can understand it. Lets not lose the one thing that us as humans have had for thousands (if not more) of years. Lets keep the art of good grammar like it should be, plain, simple and non-abbreviated!

Rant finished

Until next time,

Hectic Month

I know I have been MIA for awhile, as I have already said hubby and I were moving, I was editing my story and well with all of that combined with his parents going into the emergency room I really didn’t have time to update here.

I apologize for the long wait but finally it seems that our lives are once again going back to a routine. The only downfall is that I cannot edit my story everyday because I don’t have access to a computer all the time. I changed my story to a Microsoft word doc in a usb and well my ipad does not support that. I am doing some research of an app on the ipad that I can not only write but it gives me a word count. If any of you know of an app that way please let me know because I need it bad!

I actually got my first comment of Wattpad!! I’m so happy!! Of course it wasn’t a type of critic which is okay. It was more the reader stating “I can’t wait to see where this is going.”

I hope that is good comment and the first of many Insha’Allah. I have 122 reads on my book on wattpad but no comments so I am really excited!

I am going back to work, lets get one thing straight being a house wife is hard!! I mean we are only working with one car, so I take hubby to work and pick him up. I don’t take him lunch anymore so during the day I basically do laundry, clean the apartment, do grocery shopping, cook, take care of a few errands he has for me, drop off and pick up cleaners. In the mist of all of this I also try to read a book (in spanish), write, go see my parents, text or call friends and also keep in contact with my mother in law. SO can you really blame me for wanting to go back to work. Now I can’t say hubby doesn’t try to help me around the house its just not all the time or everyday. Its okay but by the end of the day I am tired!

I’m just trying to get a part time or if a full time job, something that is not about career growth. I’m looking more like a receptionist, clerk, light bookkeeping etc… I actually went to a temp agency I used to work for when I got out of the military so they have all my information. Insha’Allah I will be able to start soon.

Next week I will be going to my in-laws, I’m flying down there. My mother in law needs a bit of help and her daughters can’t time take time off any more. This feels a bit weird since they are my in-laws and I will be there by myself. This is the fist time that I will be with them this long by myself and separated from my hubby for this long since we have been married!

This has been a long post but mostly now you all know that has been going on with me and my hectic month. Insha’Allah you will here more about me on a regular basis.

I am still editing and will update a few Chapters up here not all. I am starting to think that I think I want to see if this one gets published. First I have to finish it and I want to finish it fast.

Until next time,


A child’s grief (idea for a story)

Ok so here is a very shirt idea I have had for a short story. Of course this is and idea a am playing with, once I am done I will have to choose which idea I am going to use as a story.. Here is a preview of what it might be, enjoy!!

Jumping out of my mothers arm I run screaming “NO!” towards the back door of our apartment. Looking in horror through the back door I see our fence on the ground. Our back yard exposed to the street. “Coqueta!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Get in here!” my mother screams at me. “Coqueta!” I kept screaming ignoring her call. I dash through the small 6 by 8 yard we have trying to see if I can find my black and white 3 month old dog. I felt my mother trying to grab my arm in order for me to stop my hysterical look for my beloved dog. “Stop it, come inside” She said more roughly. “No, I need to find her mom, don’t you understand!” I turned to her and what I see in her eyes makes me crumble in defeat. I let a howl and leap into her arms knowing that I wouldn’t ever see my 2 month old dog again.

Taking me into the apartment she slowly lays me on her bed. “Stay here ok, I’ll bring you some water” she whispers softly. Giving me a loving kiss on the forehead she leaves the room. All I could do is stare at the ceiling and cry, my mind is blank, my heart doesn’t feel like its beating, and my body feels exhausted as if I just finished running a marathon. I hear my mothers voice talking softly, I know she had called my father to let him know what had happen. “No no, you don’t need to come. I’ll talk to her. You know the neighborhood no one is going to say they saw anything.” I closed my eyes not wanting to hear the rest of her one sided conversation. “Ok, ok I will see, Love you”

My mother handed me a glass of water. “Drink this honey, it might help calm you down.” “OK mom” I slowly sat up in bed and drank slowly. “Mom do you think we will ever find her?” “I don’t know honey, I told your dad and he said we will try to look for her. Just don’t get your hopes up.” I know she was trying to comfort me as best she could but at that moment I couldn’t been comforted. All I wanted to do is close my eyes and then open them and hear Coqueta outside waiting for me to go out and play with her.

I stretched out on the bed looking at the ceiling crying thinking about my dog. She was only 3 months and we only had her for a month. The one month was so memorable because she just was a full ball of energy licking and chasing me everywhere. My parents named her Coqueta because her tail was curled and when she walked her hips and tail will swish side to side. Coqueta you know flirt. When I use to go outside and sit on the one of the stair she would curl up beside me and sleep there until I got up. When I was crying she would want to climb on me and lick my tears away.

Sighing deeply renewed tears fell off my face. My first responsibility that I actually enjoyed doing. Who would have thought a 6 year old would love picking up after a dog.. She was my friend the one that held my secrets that only 6 year old can have. I felt my body start to shake again and I rolled into the fetal position. Slowly everything just starting to fade and my body started to relax. Coqueta I love you was my last thought.

Once More to the Jungle of Guatemala

This is an essay I did when in writing class. I am thinking of expanding it into an actual story. Maybe for young children. If you read it let me know what you think??

Being seven years old and walking into the jungle of my parents native country was an experience, this Los Angeles native will never forget. Stepping into the trail my senses became alive. I could hear the animals and feel the tesxture’s of the most beautiful sight in frount of me. I could taste the richness of the air. I shivered with anticipation to observe my land that I’ve missed and haven’t explored until now.
Closing my eyes, my ears slowly open and capture the beautiful primal songs so I immerse myself and tuned out all other music I have learned to love. Chirping, whistling; an occasional rustle of branches and objects falling around set a rhythmical ballad that set a calm feeling over me. Grabbing my father’s hand, I ask him to dance with me, to twirl me in this musical symphony that only this place can give us. Smiling we waltz until we were rudely interrupted by the conductor’s growl showing his displeasure.
Trees, leaves, and exotic flowers feel smooth under my fingers. The smooth texture reminds me of my mother’s nurturing touch. Of course, not all the beautiful natural habitat is calm and forgiving. Some wildlife plants are vicious to the touch or others can be so deceiving. I catch my breath when I see before me the most unique red blood blue pedal flower. Transfixed on her beauty I lean closer to feel and smell her, while my hand slowly goes to touch her beautiful body. My hands tremble at the roughness of her stem. Sliding my finger outside her outline I will soon see how deceiving she is. “Be careful Liza.” My Tio warned, “This one lets you get close, and then, closes on you. That’s how this flower survives.” I keep looking at her transfixed while my finger is slowly being wrapped by her beautiful pedals. Slowly I feel her small but vicious thorns pinning into my finger. Quickly my Tio cuts her beautiful stem and I see her white blood seeping out. I feel her slipping away while her pedals slowly unwraps itself from my finger. “I told you be careful.” My Tio says. A tear of shame and loss rolls down my face, because of me and my thrust to touch her has cost her death.
I followed my Tio’s instruction and close my eyes. I slowly open my mouth while I inhale the air around me. Just like he said, the air tastes as if I were drinking fresh water. Looking to my left I have an amazing waterfall. I stretch my neck upwards and it seems the waterfall is as tall as the sky. I look down and I only see white foam round a hole that should have a small lake or creek to hold this water. My father scoops some mist from the leaves and takes a drink. He smiles and tells me to do the same. Thaking a sip of the water I want to put it in a gallon bottle and take it home with me.
I have heard countless stories about the jungle of Guatemala from my parents. I always imagined it to be beautiful. To witness the music from the animals, feel the soothness of the plant life and to be able to taste the jungles flavor just by inhaling the air. This Los Angeles native has become even for a moment a native Guatemalian.
via PressSync


The hammer slips through my sweaty blistered hand, breathing heavily I look through the small hole that I have made through out the years. I can’t believe that in twelve years I have only been able to chip a pea size hole on this cold brick wall, that has been my prison. So much hope in the begining that slowly turned to anger and now just feeling dispair at this slow progress. Only if I had some explosive’s I would be free, freedom just 4 solid brick walls keeping me from it.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath near the hole. A scent of fresh wild flowers register happy memories that I hope will become into realty.

Hearing the cackle inside this box tears stream down my face. Please, someone help me. I am trying but 12 years I only have this pea size hole to show for it. I won’t give up, I CAN’T. I need to break free and tell it all….

I rub my hands on the worn pants that are paper thin, pick up the hammer raise it over my head and swing towards the pea size hole again. This time when it strikes, I hope I get it to collapse…