Fiesta de Navidad en Palmdale

On Christmas eve, my brother took me and Pumpkin to his parent’s house in Palmdale. This is the annual fiesta that the de Guzman’s have where most of the family gathers to have fun into the wee hours of the night. We drove in two cars - Pumpkin and Sarah in the Subaru with Teri and Matthew (big boy) with Eric and I in the Toyota. We left around 6 PM and headed up the 170 to the 5 north. I enjoy those moments in the car with Eric because that is really a good time to catch up on life and get into some good, meaty discussions. Things were going okay, but Eric was worried about Matthew getting strangled by his seat belt since he had fallen fast asleep and his head was leaning off to one side.  I checked a few times and confirmed that big boy was just fine. Still, Eric was nervous enough to suggest that I drive while he sat in back. No problem. We stopped at a gas station and did the switch. There were a lot of cars moving in and out of the gas station and as I carefully guided the car out of the station, Eric commented on how I drive like a grandma. I didn’t deny it. In fact I wear that grandma driving badge proudly because I always believe that being careful is better than being reckless. Onward we went. The traffic was slow like thick blood moving through the arteries of an old, balding Jewish man who likes to wolf down slabs of cream cheese drenched bagels. Finally the traffic cleared up and it was smooth sailing on the 14 east to Palmdale. We exited the freeway and Eric had a little trouble locating the street to turn on. We missed the turn and I had to do a u-turn at the next street. We arrrived at the house and knocked on the door. After a few seconds Beto answered and welcomed us in. I greeted Teri’s parents and her sisters. Her sisters came up to say hello and hug me but I wasn’t sure who was who. I know Lupita (Pita) and Lourdes but her other sisters like Carmen and Chele. I know Teri will read this post and give me the guidance I so desperately need. On a side note, I started an online family tree that I hope Teri can contribute to so the information will be close at hand if needed in the future. I am bad at remembering names, even my own relatives.I sat down while Pumpkin went off to play. Teri’s sister (Teri - name please) offered me a bowl of pozole, a traditional Mexican soup eaten at important occasions. I have had it before and it tasted really good. Beto had made a giant bowl of hot salsa which I added to the pozole along with all the other good stuff like lettuce and raddish. This was a good opportunity to speak in Spanish since, well, everyone there spoke. David (Lourdes’s husband) brought in a Karaoke player. This was what I had anxiously prepared for. I like to sing songs in Spanish as well as collect lyrics to songs I particularly enjoy. Not knowing what the setup would be, I had gone into my own Yahoo group to fetch some lyrics to some songs and had them in my back pocket just in case. There is nothing more embarrassing than to stand up and try and sing a song and not know all the lyrics. I was determined to make sure that would never happen on my watch. After Beto got it set up, he brought over a bottle of Tequila and asked if I wanted a shot before I started. "Ahora no necessito", I replied confident that I could belt out a song without the loosening effects of alchohol. I began crooning out the songs, "Volver, Volver", "Mexico Lindo Y Querido", "Guadalajara, Guadalajara" and so forth. Somehow, hearing my own voice gave me the willies. Why? I usually sing in my head and only sometimes sing out loud when I am listening to a song on the Internet. Now that I was singing with a microphone in my hand, the high notes just didn’t sound as good as they sound in my head. After the first song, I decided that a lo mejor, deberia tomar un trago de Tequila. So I downed a shot or two with lime and that felt better. Throughout the night I alternated between joining in with the singing and watching my brother play scrabble with Miguel and some of the teenage boys - Chino, Eric and Francois. Time went by quickly. It came time to open Christmas presents. The teenagers came first, followed by the little ones and then the adults. Pumpkin ended up with a large, soft pillow in the shape of a cartoon character and some little toys. As it got later, she came up to me and told me she was bored because the other little girls were not really playing. I tried to help her out but I could tell she was getting tired. It got later and the teenagers invited me to join in a game called Mafia. I said sure and listened as Francois began explaining how this mystery game played with cards worked. Halfway through the explanation, Eric came over and asked if I was ready to go. It was already 11:30 and Pumpkin was half asleep. I decided that it was a good time to go so I said goodbye to everyone and we left. Teri stayed behind while Eric and I tucked the three little ones into the back seat of the Subaru. We started off and by the time we got on the freeway a few minutes later, Sarah was snoring and all three of them were fast asleep. But a new crises arose. The gauge on the gas tank read empty. This was not good. We were starting up the hill to leave Palmdale and it was getting more sparsely populated. We debated about whether we should turn around. Finally, Eric assured me that there was a gas station up ahead a few miles. Fortunately, we made it to the gas station and after we tanked up, we got into some more meaty discussions as we made our way home.

Traveling on Amtrak

Pumpkin and I took the Amtrak train from Van Nuys to San Juan Capistrano yesterday. On the way down to Orange County, we decided to get some snacks in the dining car. While waiting to pay for our food, we heard an angry woman shout out, "where is my water?" What the hell? There were 10 people waiting in line and suddenly this woman was demanding water. She then went on to rant about how she had a business class ticket and she wanted her god damn water delivered to her seat. The poor cashier did his best to placate her. He even apologized for the staffing shortage due to the holidays and tried to convince her to return to her seat. The woman, too agitated and angry about not being served in her seat, marched over to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottled water and stomped off while shouting how she was never going to ride Amtrak again. Good, I hope she doesn’t. The world needs less of these kind of people.