Time for August Sunsets
I just finished my final paper for African American History.
Let me tell you, that was something else. Six pages either for or against reparations…it’s a touchy subject. And the thing is, I knew that what the professor and I believe are two different things. Yeah, what a dilemma: write truthfully (which would be easier) or write what he wants to hear (it’s only a summer class after all…).
I just wrote what I wanted.
I figured I would be the one to change his mind if ever there was someone to do it. So now I am free to write a blog…about what?
Well, I can compare UTEP to Trinity, but really I don’t think that would be fair. They are two completely dissimilar experiences, the ultimate big school vs. little school type of thing.
With UTEP I drove over early everyday, parked, walked, had class and drove back home to take a nap (I stopped reading for class when I realized I was the only person doing it). The people I saw there I saw only fleetingly, and many people were a lot older than I was.
At Trinity you forget that going to college is a privilege, you take it for granted that college comes next, that Mabee and the Commons are always there to serve you food. Your whole world becomes that community, that class, that grade. At least for me those things were true. I lost my sense of perspective there and going to UTEP I realized how lucky I am to be going to Trinity, a great school in which I need to worry about nothing but myself. I mean, a large percentage of my classmates at UTEP were married with kids or were working and paying for classes as they earned the money. They would tell me about how they stayed up late, not because it was the “college� thing to do, but because that was the time they had to themselves, after the kids were asleep. Of course, there were other students, more similar to myself – going to college straight after high school, but everyone seemed to fit in anyway. If nothing else, my mother was happy I was attending her alma mater, albeit briefly.
Now it will be back to San Antonio in a matter of weeks. I have already purchased two planners, as I expect my life’s activities to require much space, and I have also attained a pink sparkly pillow for my bed. I think I’m set.
I don’t know where Nancy finds all the time to cook as well as carry on as the mad scientist she is, but it sounds as though her cooking experiments are going better than mine are lately. I made arepas (Venezuelan corncakes with chicken), but my mother and I were the only fans. I also tried something with lemongrass (the first time we’ve ever had it in the house) and only the dogs enjoyed that one. I better stick with sweets. I made a peach tart with peaches from our tree about three days ago and still, for being such a small tree, it could last for about five more tarts. Well, my dog Tiger will help. He eats a few of the fallen peaches everyday and he always tries to steal my Odwalla juice. Needless to say, he’s not much of a guard dog. Anytime he isn’t eating whatever the wind touches, he’s sleeping.
I would not notice the idiosyncrasies of our pets so much, but I am outside a lot watching my brother perfect his Olympic flips on the trampoline. Out there you’re viewing options are limited: crazy or crazier. I would normally just bring a book, but I think I’ve read most of the El Paso public library romance section, and poems are something best appreciated quietly. Really, poems are the next best thing to romance novels, and this is news Nancy is thrilled to hear, I’m sure. My running off to the library every weekend for love stories was something incomprehensible to her, but what can I say? Where else are you going to meet royalty? What better way to learn history than when the plot is based along the timeline of the French Revolution and the handsome hero in question is a spy? Invaluable tools these romance novels, irreplaceable.
Oh yes! I did forget to mention that I had a birthday (my 20th) and that we went to San Francisco. These were actually two entirely unrelated events that happened to occur within a week of each other; however, both were fantastic. I now plan on living in San Francisco for the rest of my adult life and now have a greater awareness of how much space there is around here. Everything in San Francisco is squeezed together and there are car lots inside of buildings instead of the acre-upon-acre sales lots I am used to seeing in El Paso. And the magnolia trees! They were everywhere! I love them!
At least I have one in my backyard…I can always pretend I’m there. Trinity has some too…
And before I sign off, I wanted to leave you with a bit of beauty:
This is a Love
by EfraÃn Huerta (trans. by Beth Henson)
This is a love that had its beginning
and at first was nothing but a bit of fear
and a tenderness that did not want to be born and bear fruit.
A love that was born in the sea of her eyes...




