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Maggie Steele, the storybook heroine who vaults over the moon, has been attracting thousands of visitors from around the world. So many visitors, in fact, that she’s using a time zone map to keep track of them all.* People are … Continue reading →

Well, I did it.

I survived my first year teaching abroad. It was a challenging year, but through God's strength, I made it. The school year is finally over.

The students' last day of school was officially June 21st, though many stopped coming before then. Unfortunately for teachers, the last day was July 12th. Why the powers that be chose to have that 3-week gap, I don't know, but it was excruciating. At least for me. Many teachers spent the last three weeks doing absolutely nothing. Well except for working out (at school), eating, reading, or chillaxing.

Not us.

Our last few weeks were spent in PDs (professional developments), preparing for the next school year, blah, blah, blah. To be honest, I mentally checked out sometime around week one. I was done working. My body was there, but my mind had already gone on vacation. It was a struggle to get up in the mornings and go to work, but nevertheless, we did. And we're finished. Thank you, JESUS! I'm seriously contemplating getting a shirt that says, "I survived teaching in Abu Dhabi." I have that Destiny's Child song in my head. "I'm a survivor. I'm not gon give up. I'm not gon stop. I'm gon work harder." Describes this year perfectly.

My brain rejects anything school-like, so enough about school.

My vacation will consist of a trip to Phuket (pronounced Poo-ket) Thailand, home (the US), and Puerto Rico. I know, awesome, right???

Tomorrow morning, my friends and I leave for Phuket for a 6-day/5-night vacation. I so can NOT wait. There is fun - and relaxation - to be had. Next week, I leave for home. I can't wait to see my family! Oh, how I miss them so. Then, it's off to San Juan, Puerto Rico with the sis for a 7-day/6-night vacation. Seven days may not be enough, I know but we'll make the best out of the time we have. I can't wait to see the gorgeous men...uh, I mean the gorgeous beaches of Puerto Rico. Heehee. I spend the rest of my vacation back in Houston with the fam before I come back to Abu Dhabi for another great year of teaching.

I'm thinking this summer may turn out to be the best one yet.

Visiting artist Tim Portlock talks to La Práctica about the relationship between his work and the conventions of 19th century American painting traditions. 2012 Beta-Local is an organization and a physical space in San Juan, Puerto Rico founded in 2009 and devoted to aesthetic thought and practice. Most of what we do comes out of three main programs: La Práctica, an interdisciplinary production-based fellowship program, The Harbor, an artist residency program in support of La Práctica, and La Ivan Illich, an open school. [...]

Success! Two weeks ago, I mentioned the controversy surrounding Justine Larbalestier's book, Liar. The controversy stemmed from the fact that, Micah,the main character in Liar, is an African American teen with short hair. The cover model was not. People complained. Publishers listened. They changed the book's cover.

Original Liar Cover

New Liar Cover

Boohoo! So, if you've read my blog for a while (is anyone really paying attention to me?) you know that I've wanted to go to Puerto Rico since high school. My sis and I'd planned on going this past Spring Break, but money - or the lack thereof - kept us from going. We shook it off and planned on going in December over the Christmas holidays. Unfortunately, the lack of funds is winning out once again. *sigh* I SO wanted to go. So, I'm thinking, I keep having to put my trip to PR off, which means, when I do get a chance to go...oh, you betta believe I'll have the time of my life. It'll only make my trip that much sweeter.

All's not lost, though. In December, we'll go to South Padre Island, a beautiful island (so we've heard) near Corpus Christi, Texas. Since SPI is about 6 hours away, we can drive, cutting out the high cost of airfare. So, here's a pic of SPI. Not bad, huh?

El Rostro de Analia. My show, El Rostro de Analia, is leaving me! Just when I've discovered it. I've only been it watching for about 2 months. If I'm not mistaken - and I could be - Friday will be the series finale, so to speak. I know etapas final basically means final stage or final chapter, so I'm assuming that it's the same as a series finale as opposed to a season finale. Which means, after Friday, no more Analia. Now I have to find another novela to watch. Maybe Mas Sabe el Diablo, with cutie pie, Jencarlos Canela. Seriously, watching the Spanish channels has helped me TREMENDOUSLY with my espanol. No matter how cheesy the novelas may be - and some of them are really cheesy - I'm getting much better with my Spanish. I also buy the Latino mags like People En Espanol to read.

NBA Finals. Rashard Lewis is a Houstonian and an Alief Elsik High School (my Alma Mater) graduate, so GO MAGIC! If it can't be the Rockets (who, btw, passed up a chance to have Lewis on the team like, 10 years ago), I'll take a fellow Houstonian getting the ring/trophy.

Rae's List. So, last year, I came up with a list of things I'd like to do. It was originally for before I turn 35, but, clearly I'll be 35 in 2 years. Anyway, the list ended up having about 60 things on it. Now, ask me how many I've actually done? Go on. Ask. One! That's it. I've managed to cross of one thing off my list (wear shorts - I haven't worn shorts since about 1995 because I didn't like m legs and I did it last year). The good thing is, by the end of this year, I will have crossed off about 14 more things, including skydiving, getting my 3rd tattoo, and learn salsa (all this summer). I also get to cross of travel to Puerto Rico when we go in December. My sister and I are going to get our 3rd tattoo to celebrate her 27th birthday in July. I want an angel, but the ones I've seen have been too detailed (and painful looking). I'm still searching for the perfect angel. I LOVE angels. Like, really. I collect anything that has to do with angels. I actually have a creepy, yet cool story that goes with why I collect angels (besides the fact that the Bible tells us that God sends His angels to protect us). It's a blog post in itself that I'll tell another time - soon, though.

NBA Finals. Well, my Rockets didn't win game 7 on Sunday against the Lakers. My poor, poor broken heart. Oh, well. I'm still proud of them. They went farther than so many people thought they'd go. So, Lakers (and Lakers fans), while you're cheering and moving on to the Western Conference Finals, ask yourself, 'How in the world did we let a team, whose big name players (McGrady, Ming, and Mtumbo) sat on the bench during most of the series, force us to game 7?'

Now that my beloved Rockets won't be in the finals, who do I want to see play for the coveted title of 2009 NBA World Champs (along with the rings and trophy)? While I'm not a Kobe fan, and I would love to see a fellow Houstonian (Orlando's Rashard Lewis) get a ring, I'd really like to see Los Angeles Lakers vs. Cleveland Cavaliers. That would be the game to watch...like the 'old' days of Jordan vs. Magic Johnson or Jordan vs. Bird...two talented teams - Lakers (as much as I'm not crazy about the Lakers, you've got to admit they're good) and Cavaliers; two dominating players - Kobe Bryant and LeBron James. I'm not on the 'I Love Kobe' bandwagon, but I'd be out of mind to say he's not awesome on the court. And LeBron? Wow! Michael Jordan will always be the best to me, though. I still love watching old clips of 'Air Jordan'. Anyway, I want to see the Lakers vs. the Cavs, Bryant vs. James, in the finals with, of course, James and the Cavs taking the trophy home.

Dancing With The Stars. YAY! SHAWN JOHNSON WON. WOOHOO. This almost makes up for the Rockets' loss. I still think Lil Kim should've been in the finals, but whatever. The underdog has prevailed!

Summer. My oh my, where has the time gone? May is almost over already! Summer vacation is right around the corner. So, how will I spend my summer? It won't be like last summer, where I spent a glorious 5 weeks in Cuernavaca, Mexico (gorgeous place, btw). I'll be working (gotta pay bills), writing (gotta finish my books), and working out (gotta get ready for Puerto Rico in December). I'm sacrificing my summer travel so I can have money for my December trip. I'm sure it'll all be worth it when I'm chilling on a beautiful beach in San Juan, Puerto Rico in 7 months. This summer, I've also got to work on my Spanish. Watching Spanish novelas (Telemundo's, El Rostro de Analia, is my addiction) is really helping me. Surprisingly, I'm understanding most of what they're saying. I have to have my bilingual sister talking to me in completely in Spanish so I can practice speaking it. The only problem? She's like a drill sergeant when it comes to teaching me Spanish...scary. ::shudder:: The reason I am excited about December:
People En Espanol. Speaking of learning Spanish...Reading Spanish magazines helps also. I love buying People En Espanol and, the latest issue has Los 50 Mas Bellos, or the 50 Most Beautiful. Here are just a few:

Selena Gomez(Wizards of Waverly Place)

Karla Monroig (El Rostro de Analia)
Jencarlos Canela (Mas Sabe El Diablo)
Anthony Romeo Santos (singer from Aventura) Manolo Cardona (Beverly Hills Chihuahua, El Cartel)

The other day I was pleased to come across a news piece about tween-star Selena Gomez and her work with stray dogs, satos, while filming in Puerto Rico. Besides being impressed that such a young star was being photographed feeding stray dogs rather than shopping in her Uggs with a diamond-collared, pocket-sized, purebred pooch in her arms, I was also grateful to her because this is a cause that has become dear to my family’s heart, particularly after our most recent trip to La Isla Bonita.

Since I was a small child I was aware of the stray dog situation in Puerto Rico, it’s hard not to be. Each store parking lot has at least a half dozen, mangy-furred, weary-eyed critters begging for food and lying under cars to avoid the blazing midday sun. But for me it was also because opinions about the creatures varied so greatly in the Davila branch of my family. My mother was brought up to believe that dogs were livestock to be kept outside and employed as security. But her stepmother, my beloved Mamita Nivea and my grandfather’s second wife, collected stray dogs like most people collect knickknacks. There were always at least a dozen mutts ranging about the house, smalls ones barking at you from under the rattan furniture, large ones loping around the exterior of the house, their fur caked with the tar from my grandfather’s trucks. Nivea would sit on the porch in her rocking chair with at least three or four of them draped across her body, their eyes closed with pleasure as she scratched behind their one remaining ear. But my grandfather hated them. I remember sitting on the porch one day as he shuffled out in his pajamas yelling towards the back yard, shaking his cane and waving a gun. I screamed as he shot at a stray that was scurrying by the pool. “They’re only blanks!” he yelled at me as if I should have known, my ears ringing from the blast. The dog took off into the bushes, its stringy tail between its legs. “If I don’t scare them away that woman would take them all in until there was no room for us!” he muttered as he shuffled back to his bedroom, cane in one hand, and gun in the other.

But he is looking down from heaven in dismay as my beloved Tía Georgina has taken after Mamita Nivea rather than him. From the day she moved out of my grandfather’s house and on her own she has grown and nurtured her own brood of disheveled but well-loved hounds, her real estate choices dictated by the now thirteen dogs that live with her. The back of her SUV always contains two large bags of dog food and a container of water. Over the years while traveling with her around the island we’ve stopped by the road on the way to El Yunque to feed the strays that wander by the road, on a side street in Humacao, and every trip to the supermarket includes a meal and fresh water for the parking lot’s canine residents. I always smiled and accepted this as an integral part of this woman I loved, but an odd one. But it wasn’t until this February that she managed to pull me and my son Carlos into her efforts…it wasn’t until then that I really began to understand.

Once we had settled into my Tío Esteban’s condo in Luquillo, Georgina arrived to take us to lunch, but said she had a stop to make on the way. We drove along the narrow side streets, wondering where she was taking us. Finally she pulled the car to a stop at a dead end. I couldn’t imagine what she was doing: there was nothing there but trash and palm fronds rustling in the wind. She asked Carlos to help her get something from the trunk, and I saw them hauling a massive bag of dog food towards the edge of the trees. I should have known. I resigned myself to watching her feed some gristled old mutts when suddenly seven tiny creatures came stumbling over the bank, all long legs, fur and ribbed torsos. Carlos and I stood transfixed as she carefully poured piles of food on the ground and the family of puppies watched with careful eyes from the shadows of the trees. Half of them looked like boxers, the other like any number of dog breeds all mixed together. The mother watched in the distance as Georgina poured some water into a discarded plastic to-go container she found on the side of the road. Carlos tried to coax them closer, but they would skitter with any movement of his arm, any step closer. Realizing we probably wouldn’t get to pet them, we contented ourselves with watching them gambol about, tumbling over one another on the grass as they waited for us to leave. We watched them begin to eat in the rearview mirror and felt happy we had helped fill those small bellies for at least one day.

Needless to say, we went back the next day. And the next. By the end of the two weeks, the boldest one would stand near as we poured the food, his brother and sisters a few feet away. As we cooed over them, my aunt offered to ship them to anyone who might want to adopt them stateside. Carlos and I lamented our asthma, our allergies. Otherwise, we would have taken at least one home. Carlos’ favorite part of the vacation was not the hours of body surfing at the beach, the shopping in old San Juan, or even the generous gift of a Nintendo DS from Titi, but rather the daily ritual of feeding the puppies. We talk about them often, even now, realizing with not a small amount of sadness that they will be full grown by the time we visit next year: that is, if they survive. A sato’s life span is not a long one, and our only hope is that the efforts of people like Georgina will pay off in no-kill shelters, and more comprehensive neutering plans. And the press attention that Selena Gomez’s visit brought is sure to help, but there is a long way to go to change the society’s perception of the canine species. But until then, when we visit the island, we will always have a bag or two of dog food in the back of our rental car, and though I’m not sure my mother would understand, Mamita Nieva is looking down at her great grandson Carlos and smiling.

Spring Break. Waaaah! Spring Break is over! *Tear* It went by way too fast! It's already Friday. Our next big vacation (summer) won't be for another 11 weeks. Oh, the horror! The pain! The agony of waiting...counting down the days. It's a good thing I love my job.

So, you wanna know what I did for spring break (you probably don't, but humor me, will you)? Ab-so-lute-ly NOTHING...and I loved it. Rest and relaxation - ain't that what it's all about? I mean, yeah, my sis and I were supposed to be in San Juan, Puerto Rico, lying on the beach, batting our hazels at the local cuties, BUT, we're in our own house! I'm in my roomy master bedroom with my equally roomy master bathroom. WE HAVE A HOUSE! I think Puerto Rico and the cuties can wait - besides, we're going in December. So, this spring break, we stayed home to bask in the awesome-ness of having our own house.

Mi Casa Nueva. So, I'm sure you can tell that I love my townhouse. I am so blessed! God is so good...He really is. The townhouse is roomier than we thought it would be. It's perfect for a first house. I have the master bedroom. It's not cuz my sister let me have it out of the goodness of her heart since I'm the oldest. No. I had to pay for it...literally. I bought her an iPod and promised to cook for a month just so I can have the master bedroom. It's worth it! I'm lovin the roomy-ness! We thought we'd be moving in with practically nothing, but when people - especially my wonderfully awesome parents - found out we were moving and needed furniture/dishes/food, they gave. Isn't that awesome? Here are pics. Our townhouse is the one with the cars in the drive.

Here is our little office nook:

Fitness Friday. After years of trying to lose weight using different methods, I've realized that the reason the weight keeps coming back is because my focus was on the weight, not on God. I take everything else to God, why not my weight/health issues? So, I bought a spiral. In this spiral, I have a scripture and affirmation to meditate on for each day. I exercise and eat right like normal, but I've just changed my focus. With this, I want to lose, not only unhealthy physical weight, but also unhealthy spiritual and mental weight. I want God to remove any access weight - both figuratively and literally speaking - that is keeping me from becoming the woman He intended me to be.

Last week, I went to the doctor for my physical and well-woman exam (VERY uncomfortable, btw). I'd scheduled the appointment because both sides of my family have a history of cancer, high blood pressure, and diabetes. I wanted to make sure that all was right in my health world. The last time I went to the doctor, I was told that I had borderline high blood pressure. This summer, I came to the conclusion that I might've gone from borderline to actual high blood pressure. I'd been experiencing some of the same problems that my parents (who both have HPB) have: constant headaches (I don't just get headaches...I get migraines), swollen feet, etc.

It turns out that, unfortunately, I was right. I have HPB now. ARGH! So, now, I have medicine, thankfully just one, that I have to take everyday, which sucks 'cause I'm horrible at taking medicine. I had to write a note to myself on my dry erase board (yeah, I'm a nerd...I have a "to do" board in my room) to remind me to take the medicine. I've never liked taking medicine.

The good thing is, with exercise and good eating habits, I can lower my blood pressure. I've been exercising pretty faithfully since June. I've been watching what I eat since August. I have fallen off the wagon, so to speak, every once in a while, but I've gotten back on. Overall, I've lost 11 pounds. Yay me! My sister and I have really buckled down this month and have been doing well. We've either walked 2+ miles, played volleyball in front of the house, or had 45 minutes to an hour of Dance Dance Revolution, which, btw, is an awesome form of cardio. We've added strength training in between our workout days. My original goal was to lose a few pounds for our Puerto Rico trip, but, now I've added lower my blood pressure. As far as eating in concerned, the problem isn't that I eat too much, it's that I don't eat enough. I usually only eat dinner because I don't make the time to eat breakfast or lunch. This is bad because I usually get cravings and end up eating junk food. So, now, I'm working on eating 5 times a day - breakfast, lunch, dinner, and 2 snack times in between.

I guess if I blog about my journey, it'll hold me accountable. I'm supposed to have a checkup in November to see if my blood pressure has gone down. So, my BP was 155 over 113 (I know...horribly high). My prayer is that I can lower it some by my next appointment. Also, my goal in June was to lose at least 30 pounds by the end of this year (I'm not even going to say how much I weigh). I'm now at 11 pounds down and 19 to go. Can I do it? Will keep you updated!

Runaround by Helen Hemphill, 2007

Miss Dallas takes care of 11-year-old Sassy and her beautiful older sister Lula. She runs their household and is a sort of mother figure as their own mother died of cancer soon after Sassy was born, or so the family story goes.

Sassy reads Love Confessions magazine. Her father is reserved and never talks about their mother so she questions Miss Dallas about romance and her parents' relationship. Miss Dallas tells Sassy, "You're in love with love," and indeed, that is the heart of this jewel of a story.

Snips of advice and passages from Sassy's magazines begin many of the chapters. When Sassy encounters handsome Boon Chisholm at the grocery store she develops a head over heels crush on him even though he is much older than her and is from the wrong side of the social tracks.

There are some wonderfully funny and painful moments as Sassy and Lula learn about guys and life. You do not want to get into a haircut fight with these sisters.

Hemphill evokes the time, 1964, and place, Falls of Rough, Kentucky, beautifully. Cherry Cokes-to-go are served in paper cups, screen doors slam and Elvis sings on the record player. The details are part of the story and never forced. The cover art is an old Benday dot style, romance comic illustration.

Sassy and Lula, their father, Miss Dallas and even Boon are characters the reader cares about. In their own way all the players in this story are sorting out their lives and hoping for relationships that give meaning to life. (It is nice to see a story with a loving father too.)

I think middle schoolers will find much that resonates in this sweet sweet story.