short & sweet


i have so much to say but i have been thinking about this whole blogging thing and its scary

i have a lot of writing to do for work since its the start of a very exciting new year and i will write soon


one thing on my mind a lot lately is

how do you let go of anger?

its very easy for me to be angry almost natural

how do i let it go?



Writing 101


Math 92

both out of pocket!


25 in September

could you say I am more than a little behind?



family drama

– school (only being able to take one class last semester)

– being broke

– losing touch with friends

– moving (I move way too much)


– justice’s 1st new year

– taxes! Haha you get bank when you are poor with a baby

– justice’s 1st summer

– justice’s 1st walk/dance/too many things to write including 1st BIRTHDAY!!!

– summer (sjep ruled this year and im so proud of the documentary they produced!)

– obama! Hello!

– work (so glad I have a stable job during recession)




– get crunk for my little sisters 21st birthday!

– have a sexy valentines day

– continue school and excel

– tattoos

– be a great awesome fun understanding mommy!

– not be broke

– read

– be creative

– family vacation?

no drama!

– lose weight

– be a cute ass 25 year old mama

get married?


a poem.


My ode to black jelly beans


When I was a kid my grandma always had jellybeans in bowls around the house on easter


I can remember walking by and picking a handful of my favorite flavors…

((we all did that))


I can remember…




those jellybeans were first pick


green, orange, and sometimes purple


were subordinate selection


walking by in my flowery ruffled dress

with my shiny payless dress shoes

I recall glass china bowls…with a few black jellybeans all alone in the bottom


I never thought to wonder why I had to wear that ugly dress or why the candy company made the black jellybeans taste so nasty

after seeing these. hope you enjoy!

the christmas blog


I can’t think of anything to say about Christmas. Haven’t quite reflected yet. But I love to take photos and here are some I did during winter break so far…

Sometimes I feel like a super hero. I imagine I could be a hero. Sometimes I am mentioned for my courage and willingness to speak out for the voiceless. Two recent short events come to mind.



I have an ongoing “joke” with a co-worker about his playa-ness. He’s really not a player just a good looking guy who was a ladies man back in high school. I say, “joke” because he laughs and I’m being dead serious. Although I hardly know his wife on a personal level, I have known their family for years. He has been with his wife for several years and occasionally broke up her to be a playa!

I tease him about it and question his social consciousness and support for the female community and he laughs it off.

At work, he tells me…something along the lines of his wife getting jealous and my name coming up… Say what!? Uh-uh. I ain’t no home wrecking hoochie mama! I’m a feminist.


He goes on to say his wife was un-happy about a some text-messaging situation and she said, “where is Kim when I need her”. Oh hell yeah, my head just grew. I could so be a super hero. Watch out playas!


The other situation I was in was so freaking’ weird I could seriously write a book about it, but I won’t I am trying to mentally heal.

I am at a birthday party for my step-dad and my mom is completely drunk. It’s a small kick back, meaning a few people getting mega drunk. Four couples and my sister. The homeowner is an ex-marine who voted for McCain and doesn’t like black people? I don’t know? I was informed that I wasn’t allowed to talk about politics, Obama, or the military. Um…okay. Not too hard I guess. Then the N-word starts flying, and I get upset. I am the only one not drinking and I don’t appreciate the racist jokes or the N-word and I am damn proud I voted for Obama! Finally everyone agrees to stop saying the infamous word because I’m filled with rage. My mom jokes, Kim’s here holding it down representing for the black people. Um…okay. I’m a light skinned Chicana who says dude way too much, I am certainly no Eminem, but if that’s my role for the night, I’m down. Shouldn’t we all be holding it down for our black brothers and sisters?


Someone should buy me a cape for Christmas!


Social Justice Super Woman!


It could work?


I thought I would be a famous kick ass feminist poet who never worried about money again with my hybrid and PhD.

Being Woman

Was created in the act of oppressing women…
A man with a girl only 15
Mothers let your daughters become mothers way too soon
Young housewives…so tired of cleaning
Grandfathers make granddaughters give them a massage
Mija take my shoes off rub my feet
Abuse so tired of abuse
Looking at holes in the wall punched in by angry men covered with pictures of fake smiles…
Women seeking happiness as all the rest in this place
IM NOT your mother
Im not my mother
So what if I don’t feel like cleaning
Washing dishes
Or peeling potatoes?
And if that means I wont be a good mom then ill do the unthinkable and not have kids
I hear people judging me
Do they think they’re jesus
Im rude
I should wear makeup
I should loose weight
Maybe I oppress food consuming it violently the only thing that doesn’t swing
I can be in control no talking no sex no apologies
When I want what I want all I need just like this world is money$$$
I HATE when people only have time for a two minute conversation and ask how you are doing…fine, nothing…thinking to myself
Do they really want to know?
I don’t care I blurt out
Eviction, corruption, and mutilation of my body, house, neighborhood, relationships…
Life all this stress, oppress, and chores cause im not a man
Well good luck with that as he turns around and starts to walk away
I think walk away..turn away…run away…
As all men do
Men are clams
Women are crowbars
A quote by a god fearing Christian man
Am I a crowbar? Do I pry? Do I go to far? Should I wear makeup?
In the bathroom reading my seventeen,ym,teenbeat,cosmo, feeling schizophrenic
I think to myself thank god for dishwashers I’ll get up and load the dishes, or throw away my magazines
A proud “feminist” who still feels fat ugly and scared of men at the end of the day
And dreams of romance while she’s sleeping

Si se puede?


I only know a few people who have been successful as far as college goes. The two people who come to mind, both have a mother and father in their life, and knowing both for the years I have I know that they don’t know just how much of a difference it made in their lives. I can not relate to this fortune. I was never anywhere near middle class. My parents then parent could never give me any kind of financial support or secure stability like a home. I should have graduated U of A in May 2007 then went on for another year to get Teaching credentials. I took one class this semester and I just don’t see it going anywhere. Working, being a mom, how will I ever go to school full time? How can I take out loans for school?, when I don’t have a license, when sometimes I hardly have food? I’m realistic about living at my means, and college just seems above my means. I remember when I was 19 I was so sure about college and my life ahead of me. Now as I have gotten older, I am not wiser. I am not brave. I thought at 24 after having a child I could rule the world, but I been feeling so hopeless. Maybe I am just meant to be a mom. Maybe I am just not meant to ever feel secure. All these years I been pushing myself for la raza. Maybe I need to push myself for myself. I just don’t know what I want to do, except love her. That’s one thing I am sorta great at.

Sometimes I get in these jealous, angry moods and I just want to find a good job and struggle at life like a normal fucking person.

She is standing there so damn cute. Standing at the table, playing music, wearing a pony tail, I cant believe how big she is. Last Christmas I thought time flew by. She was almost four months then. Now she’s only 15 months and she acts 15 sometimes. She is so smart and advanced for her age, she says so many words, eats all different foods, she completely has a personality and knows me and her daddy are suckas. 

Rage against the machine… I get.

Rage against the man… I get.

but, Rage against the Mommy? Say what!? Uh… no.

She flips over her leap frog table.

Smacks me in the head.

She points at me and shouts STOP.Little Miss Rude Girl

Rages out like a psycho.

Um… did I miss your quinceañera?

Where did she get her attitude from? Surely not me!