barefoot and breathing

I have always known that there would be a Mariachi Band at my wedding reception.

Every family wedding I’ve attended (on my mom’s side) has featured a Mariachi Band. Our family Christmas parties have Mariachi Bands. We hire them at least twice a year for church functions. My Grandma’s birthday generally has at least a trio. Most post-funeral luncheons have them. Anniversary Parties? Check. We even celebrated last 4th of July with a Mariachi band. They are just a given at most any event.

So when my Aunt and Uncle offered to pay for the Mariachi for the cocktail hour at my reception, I didn’t think twice about it. I just thought that they were extremely generous and it was $500 less we’d have to come up with.

But apparently to those who are not part Mexican, it is in fact a curiosity. As big of a topic of discussion as the Storm Troopers who will be our honor guard as we’re announced or the Zombie wedding cake topper.

My family has only asked why they can’t play for 2 hours instead.

It’s one of those things that keeps coming up, how I’ve taken for granted my immersion in my culture. TV shows have always featured people not being able to understand something said in Spanish. And I honestly thought that was the biggest joke because, how could you not at least be able to make out the general idea of what they are saying? My Spanish is horrible but I’ve always known what’s going on when my Mom’s talking to my Gramita. It wasn’t until recently that I realized it was an actual plot point and pretty common IRL (thanks Off the Map!)

I don’t know, just throwing words into the universe hoping someone can  understand what I’m trying to say.

I love being Mexican. I feel like I’m not recognising it enough in the wedding if anything. But we will have a Mariachi Band, and my cousin will read the 2nd scripture in Spanish, and my Aunt and Uncle will put the Laso on our shoulders to unite us. And it will be perfect. I believe it.

I think I’m going to give it to my future sister-in-law after her 8th grade graduation tonight.

I must say, I quite appreciate the “post-apocalyptic strong girl changing the world” theme that’s emerging in YA, especially since I can usually gobble them down in a couple of hours. I rank Divergent below the Hunger Games and above Matched.

what I wouldn’t give to watch him clean the living room tomorrow.

lovepuppy:

And those from New York are New Yorkers…

California… Californians

Alaska… Alaskans

What are you??

FIB (effing Illinois bastard)… sitting here realizing I’ve never heard people from Illinois called any thing else… we’re certainly not called illinoisans, or Illini… no, 5 minutes later and nothing else comes to mind. Oh well, proud to be a FIB fo sho.

I found out not too long ago that Josh’s Great-Grandfather was born from a set of IDENTICAL QUADRUPLETS, he has identical triplets and twins in his family as well.

I had always been told that multiples were determined by the mother’s family history. This is not so, fraternal twins yes, identicals not so much.

2 nights ago I had a dream that we had 7 kids under the age of 2. Triplet boys, Quadruplet girls, all identical.

Josh’s only response was that it’s too bad Oprah won’t be on when that happens, but we’ll probably get a TLC show.