first meet

first meet

I can hear my heart beating.
I can hear myself laughing at his jokes.
I can smell the curly fries from Jack in the Box as we walk to my house
I can feel our hands shaking, as if we were very nervous.
Oh, wait… we are.
It’s the first time he’s coming over for dinner with my family.
I open the gate to my house, slowly and lead him in.
As I slam the gate, leaves fall down from the tree as if like snow; but sadly, it doesn’t snow in LA.
We stop and turn to each other when we arrive at the door.
I can hear my breathing.
I can feel him shaking.
I look into his eyes and say to him, “Ready?”
From where we’re standing I can hear them laughing from the other side of the door.
I squeeze his hand and he squeezes mine.
I pen the door, as I walk in first.
I smell the sweet apples that are in the basket beside the entrance.
And it started with a “hello.”

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First Meet by Angela Hernandez from Before There Were Bars, POPS The Club

farts + trader joes

FADE IN: a car, 2 friends peeling mandarins:

“I mean, now what? We just go back to farts and Trader Joes?”
She looks at me expecting an answer.
Farts and Trader Joes…yeah, that seems about right. You spend enough time with someone, sure, that’s what happens.
I nod.
She scoffs and looks away.
“It’s not fair,” she says quietly.
She’s so pretty when she’s mad/frustrated/sad/resentful/vulnerable.
When she’s human.
“Well, it can be,” I finally say. “If you changed your family, culture, social mindset, your marriage. Become someone else, reinvent yourself!, and then educate everyone around you on the new You.”
She looks at me, “Stop it.”
“I mean it.”
“That’s not going to happen,” she says, slipping back into her lawyer voice.
“Then forget her.”
She swallows thick. It’s audible.
“I can’t…”
A beat. 
“How do you feel about farts and Trader Joe’s with her?”
“That’s different.”
“Nope, no it’s not. Same shit different smell.”
A slow smile curls across her lips, “She’s different, her farts smell like roses.”
I burst into laughter — bahahahaahaha.

peru shoe

My set of keys:

At the center, is a single miniature shoe from Peru with traditional Peruvian colors. I had been trying to find a keychain for the longest time. I went to so many thrift stores sifting to find the perfect one. My partner said to wait, let the right one come to you. Ah, the story of my life. Well, when I least expected it, it arrived. My friend Lauren gave it to me when she visited Peru last year. Or was it the year before? It’s cute, it’s simple, it brings a smile to my face.

My friendship with Lauren is pretty unexpected too. We were workmates and had to handle a challenging project that required lots of time together. I believe if I can like you through the stressful times, I’ll like you forever. And that’s what happened. She’s a giver and every time she visits anywhere, she returns with symbolic gifts for her workmates. I mean, workmates? Who does that? She teaches me generosity and to slow down, to not eat so fast.

I have new keys to an apartment that’s very new to me still. We live by the beach in a 2 bedroom apartment that hugs similar apartments off a busy main road. It’s simple, cosy and at the same time quite modern. These keys are new to me. I don’t have a connection with them yet, and still, they’re the object I tend to hold the most besides my phone. There’s a mail key, apartment key, and a gate key. I have a weird lock-type silver key I have no idea where it belongs, but that’s there too.

These keys remind me to familiarize myself with the new Now. To enjoy the newness of this chapter, to stay curious, to explore, to learn as I warm up to the keys, the apartment, the neighbors, the drive.

What’s on your key chain?

the natural order

friendship

This go around,
We were two ships passing.
Trying so hard to meet at the corner of familiarity, tradition, “then”.
I love her.
She’s family.
Family that was #1 and now is, well, tertiary.
Life has changed.

Time has contracted, in and out, without our even knowing it.
Before our eyes.
While we were distracted.
Amidst evolution.

The natural order of things…

I want to say it’s going to be OK.
I want to say We will always be.
I want to say intimacy is our best friend.

But it’s not, right?
Action speaks louder than words and what I can see is — this is not our priority anymore.

You come to me in meditation, eyes closed and heart open.
A kind of emotional clean up unfolds as the heart leads the mind, twice a day and still it’s a rarity in my day.
Heart asks, “What happened to her?”

Good question.
My heart swells at reconnecting.
That’s a sign, right?

I love you.
I’m thinking of you.
Let’s FaceTime, some time.
Get back in line with the natural order of things.
Liza Fernandez

peripherally

Waiting Dreams

Oscar Reflections…

We saw her as a typical waiter going through the protocols of a new table with unfamiliar faces. I noticed she had a warm smile.

She told us the specials and then I asked completely off subject, “Are the Oscars your thing?”
A spell was broken. She really looked at me and said, “They are, very much so.”

Could’ve been my emotions running amok, but my heart choked and oozed all over the place.
My eyes welled and held back tears with so much pressure.
I knew it, before she said anything.
Suddenly we were sisters.

“Me too,” I struggled to say.

“Did you watch all the movies?” She asked.

“No, but some though.”

“I watched them all. They were good, some better than others.” She looked down to her writing pad, “It’s a hard night to get through cuz it means so much to me, so I decided to work it.” She chuckles, “Watch it peripherally,” she points up to the one television hanging on the wall like a trophy.

I asked her who she thought would win for best actor, male and female; best supporting, best film, etc. She had answers and came prepared. The word passion came to mind.

“Would you have preferred to be around friends tonight and watch it that way?”

She took a moment, staring into my eyes as she let my question land…

“No, it would’ve hurt more.”