Sugar and spice.

Perched regally in my booster chair and resplendent in my tutu, I was almighty. I gazed upon my kingdom. What I saw pleased me: potted herbs and a mini-mist bottle on the kitchen windowsill. The shiny copper canister that I knew held a spoon embedded in sugar. The steam puffs that rose from the pot […]

Little town blues.

It was a torqued-brain day. This is different than a code-red day: I wasn’t at maximum anxiety, only slightly breathless and jumpy. The excess nervous energy twisted the grey mass behind my eyes only slightly. The flood of excess stress hormone in my system is less, but still gives me a dull, insistent headache like […]

Fat Tuesday, fat chance.

(Originally posted in 2011.) My road to hell will be paved in sugar. I’ve tried to give up sweets, but can’t – not even for reasons of weight, dental health or religion. I need sugar like Easter needs Peeps. Some people remember favorite television shows from their childhood. I remember favorite candy commercials. I remember […]

Letter to the editor.

I received the text from my father-in-law around midday. “I see you got published in the NYT.” I was but had not told anyone. The New York Times published my letter to the editor in the print and online versions of today’s paper. I wrote in response to a Saturday, January 23 article on Post […]

Speaking Boricua.

Jodona | feminine noun | English translation: an irritating and/or annoying woman. Used in a sentence: That woman is a real jodona. The following fictional scenario will help clarify the sample sentence: Let’s say there is a woman of Puerto Rican descent with a strong affection for candy. Strong, not desperate. This Boricua is not […]

Every last drop.

Little woman. Big choice. No problem. Fifty-four flavors of homemade ice cream. I had worried the choices would overwhelm her. Mami has always been an anxious woman. Whether asked how she’d like her tea, if she’d be paying cash or credit, or to print her name and address on a form, her response is to […]

This boricua hair.

The more words assigned to an object, the greater the object’s importance. I know more hair-related words, in two languages, than I do words for discussing my finances–a sign that what sits on my head takes up too much head space. I’ve blogged about how being a “good girl with bad hair” is an intrinsic […]