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ADOBO AND SAZON!!!
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Someone backed into Mami’s wrought iron fence. But, Mami is okay.
I hadn’t seen my mom in a few days. It’s been hot, even on the coast, and sleep has been eluding me for days. I’d actually been awake for a full 24 hours when I pulled up on my mom’s Saturday morning at 5:30AM, hoping to get some sound sleep in my favorite chair. Instead, I saw the wrought iron gates to her driveway totally mangled. Thinking she hadn’t seen what happened (because she didn’t call me), I started to take video and photos. Part of the fence was leaning onto the neighbor’s car, keeping them sort of wedged in. But, everyone knew what happened except me.
Around 10PM Mami was sitting in the living room when she heard the house explode. She ran outside only to find the house hadn’t exploded…but, there was a car in her driveway, the front tires standing on the amputated wrought iron limbs of her fence. To her surprise, not only was the car in her driveway, but so was the dude who was driving the damn thing! He was passed out in the driver’s seat, the engine still running.
Mami started to shout and bang on the car. The driver woke up and sped off! But, not before Mami was able to grab a three second video of the car speeding off, much to her luck, the license plate found itself into the shot.
You’d think this is the first time something like this has happened, right? Nope. The thing is, there’s always something going on in the hood. Always. Something. The house next door constantly has new people living in it (there’s something about that house, man) and at least twice, two different sets of neighbors in that house have fucked the fence up. Once it was so bad Mami had to take the owners of the house to court; they didn’t even live in California and sent their property manager to court. The court judgment was in Mami’s favor, but anyone who’s ever been to small claims knows the court doesn’t enforce judgment (payment). I’m not even sure why small claims exists. Then, the only white dude in the neighborhood ran into her backyard fence.
CHP came out Saturday night to take Mami’s statement and then they dipped. Mami lives in unincorporated county and CHP has primary patrol jurisdiction over all California highways and roads and streets outside city limits. Mami told me she kept trying to grab the license plate from the video, but it was too short. I took a look at the video and when the license plate came onto the screen I paused it, slowed it down, blew it up and took a screenshot. The license plate was clear as day. “I didn’t even know you could do that from a video,” Mami said. Because the plate was lit up, it was easy to see. The make and model of the car however, was blurry. It looked like a Ford emblem. Not an issue when you have the license plate number though. I just looked it up online and found the VIN, make and model. “You can do that?!” Mami shouted.
Did I want to pay an additional $3 to find out the address the car was registered to? With my temper, I thought it was better that I didn’t know.
We tried to call CHP back to let them know I now had the license plate number, but their offices were closed until Monday morning. Tried to make an insurance claim, but their offices were closed until Monday morning. Tried to get the fence mended, but…you guessed it…their offices were closed until Monday morning.
After I did all that I could do, I sent the photo to my very close knit circle of friends to let them know what the next war path was about. Knowing they had all been through similar trauma, they’d help me process. Just a little light work because my therapist does all the heavy lifting. But, my friend Nando caught me off guard. By the way, he’s the dude in the Raiders hat in the lechon section of my book. He had tried to make one of his jokes as a way to “lighten the mood,” and I told him I was sooooo not in the mood for his antics and that “anger and sadness were just as valid of an emotion as happiness.”
“What are you gonna accomplish with being mad and can’t do nothing about it until Monday? It’s too early to be mad. Just go have breakfast with Mami and don’t stress about it. Illyanna, since I’ve known you, there was never a time I’ve seen your ass be happy…” he said.
As far as my friends go, I’ve met all of them at different periods of my life. Nando is from my Yelping era. Yes, your girl used to Yelp. I talk about it in this Cherry Bombe interview. He’s one of my newest friends and I’ve known him since 2016. I spotted him at a Sacramento Yelp event standing in a corner by himself doing a weird combo of vato-sulking. He just looked like someone who’d be from my neighborhood and guess what? He was! The point is, he probably knows me the least out of all my friends and yet…there it was. He called my anger out.
“I can’t be happy. The universe has a way of humbling me and balancing shit out,” I said. His response, “I can see that. Ok, I’ll shut the fuck up now because I know you’re still gonna rage regardless of what I say.”
The way he said it prompted a memory; my friend Damien (who is no longer on this earth) told me I had gotten so much angrier as the years prolonged.
I knew it was the end of an era after I discovered a snitch had infiltrated the “close friend” list on IG (meaning they’re also a paid subscriber). When Nando put the nail in the coffin with his comment, it prompted me to deactivate my social media accounts. The newsletter will live on.
Now I just need to find some books that talk about de-stressing and anger management, but written by someone like me. As much as I love Alice Waters, I cannot adopt her cool, calm and collected approach. I need a book written by someone who’s been through the fucking trenches and came out of the otherside.
Book recommendations are welcomed and much needed!
I came out as queer. I got sober. Now, I’ve gotta find a way to curb this anger that has been my protector and very best friend for a very long time.
Until then, I’ve gotta get Mami a new fence.
Corazon, I have a bunch of book recs for you. I deleted all of my personal social media, so I cannot DM you the recs. Where shall I write you? I also have the name of someone that maybe able to help you - and if she can't, she will reach out to her network and find someone for you in CA. The fence is a metaphor for life. Have faith; you'll put it back together!
I follow @yogi_bryan on IG. He does “f*ck it” yoga & meditation. Lots of F bombs on his page. It’s worth a try.
https://linktr.ee/yogi_bryan?fbclid=PAAabLUM9dWi8Fa1H3NKHTFAIDERu_xjHyOBGKSnVv9JvHkKWwznmzgVDHxCA_aem_ATDO5_-3dM-sdCY63_IL-O98aJtTlLhYDZWR5BYCyEcfo7Dr9JXshuvJlR6k_Fxsup0