Confessions of A Hoarder...

Forgive me all but I must confess....I am a hoarder.
Maybe I'm not on the verge of those crazy ass people you see on Hoarders but I am somewhat of a Hoarder. So much so that on a trip to Target my friend caught me flipping through a People magazine with J-Lo on the cover. She snapped it out of my hand, "Hey hey no!! You are not going to buy this. I'm pretty sure you still have the issue when she was Bennifer." We busted out laughing.
She laughed and said, "Girl you know it's true, you are a hoarder." I gasped. "How dare you!!" But sadly yes I am a bit of a hoarder.
It bothered me for a few days. I looked at the clutter in my room and began to get disgusted with it. Clothes and clothes and shoes upon shoes. Articles,memories, you name it, my entire life lay strewn across this small room. Sure enough little by little I have been eradicating things from my room. Sometimes I think it is going to take forever, that it will not get done.
I seriously think hoarding is a coping mechanism. Maybe subconsciously I have held onto things because so many things were not in my control, maybe because I have a hard time letting go of relationships, maybe because there is such an emptiness in me I feel the need to feel up my room, my calendar, etc. with all sorts of things.
It kind of made me sad. Did I really need all of these things, these pictures, these memories? It kind of made me angry at myself. So I'm making it my mission to rid myself of things I don't need. It's actually freeing. I feel like I'm getting rid of years of things that I don't need. I feel open and free for future opportunities. Feels good to let go of things, not just material things.

To all my hoarders, you're not alone. Free yourself!! It's possible

Do you!!

I don't know about you girls but I have always been the type of girl who wants to please everyone? I know some of you are out there. I don't mean to burst your bubble but that will almost never happen. We often times please everyone but ourselves. I am the type of person that ok maybe over commits. I live my life like I am Super Woman.
Unfortunately short of the actual costume I have no super hero powers. I cannot be in two places at once no matter how I promise people I can. I am one person and can only do so much. This recently came to mind during a woman's confernce. Almost all the women there were confessing that they wished they had more time. They wished they could manage their time better, that they didn't take on so much. A bell was going off in my head.
I was like ME TOO!!! I couldn't help but nod in agreement. Here I was seated in a room with so many educated Latinas, some with such extradordinary careers and marriages and children. The majority of us could rule the world if we put our minds to it. I didn't know where they found the time to do what they did. I thought to myself man why do we women always try to please everyone. When do we learn to live for us, to take time for us?
Do we feel selfish for being about ourselves? In my own instance I know I have felt selfish for asking for me time. I have felt that putting family, friends and relationships on the back burner often makes me feel kind of guilty. But why should it? If I never do what I want to do how happy will I be?
I have spent a large portion of my life trying to make everyone happy. I have spent time comparing myself to others and trying to fit in this little box everyone tries to put me in. And who did I please?? I can say it was never myself.
I started a campaign for myself last year. I decided to live fully and fearlessly. I decided to, JUST DO ME!!! I am doing what I want to do and am I happy. I can say heck yes.
I was tired of asking for people's input and listening to what they thought I should do. It gets rather annoying when people expect so much of you when perhaps you are happy. I am sick of people asking me why I'm not in grad school, or when I am going to be in grad school? News flash it's not going to get me in tomorrow. Thanks for the pressure.
I am tired of people telling me it's ok to be single. Uh, yea thanks but I kind of already knew that. I don't need a pat on the had like a puppy. I'm tired of people getting pissed off because I'm busy. I'm busy living not watching others live.
If you get tired of people ragging on you for all the things you are not doing or are doing or what you don't do enough of, today could be your day, your day where you say I AM DOING ME!!! Pull out a piece of paper and write what you want to do, what do you want? Then plaster that piece of paper somewhere you are going to see it. and DO IT!!! DO YOU!!!
While I don't think people mean bad when they give me criticism I just think that maybe sometimes we are more concerned with other people's lives than what we want to happen in our own. I'm still working on my overcommitment issues. I am prioritizing better and I only commit to what I know I can do. I think I've learned my lesson in doing too much. I want to be true to myself and live a happy and full life. Life is a journey, the cool thing is, THE JOURNEY ISN'T ANYONE'S BUT YOURS!!!
Maybe today is the day for you, the day to just DO YOU!! And if so I raise my glass to you!! Cheers!!

Learning to live again.

I took my goddaughter and my best friend out to dinner this past weekend. My goddaughter only three years old, threw her arms around me in a warm embrace followed by a huge kiss on the cheek as she said, "thank you nina, you the best nina ever, I love you." Now I didn't do much. However, in her little eyes I made her day. I didn't have to say anything but she appreciated my genorosity. She, a small child understands reciprocity, gratitude, true love and the meaning of life.
To the average joe what my goddaughter did is just a child being sweet no big feat. However, to me it is the way life should be. You see in her actions and her small words I have learned the meaning of life; through my goddaughter I have learned to live again. There was a good portion of my life I spend in hatred, in depression, in broken pieces. I could not see past what I was feeling. I could not get my head out of my ass and see the beautiful life that was right in front of my face.
I had become a bitter, ugly person. All the pain and suffering in my life, my story I let eat at me. I didn't want to confront my past at all. I did not want nor know how to take accountability for the pain I was enduring. I smiled on the outside but on the inside I was constantly in misery. I seriously drank to drown the pain but like the famous Frida saying goes, "the damned pain learned how to swim." I lived life half heartedly.
My goddaughter was born when I was 24 and I must say that as she grows so do I continue to grow with her. I thought that I was grown and mature. I thought that I had life all figured out. But it has taken me a good while to realize I was not living.
My goddaughter is amazing. She is the most fearless person I know. She is so trusting and so confident. The beauty of the innocence of a child. She may not understand what I'm going through but whenever I'm sad she comes to me and holds my hand. I could be faking a smile but never with her. She will always ask what's wrong. Sometimes she doesn't say anything she just gives me a hug.
She doesn't judge, she doesn't talk behind my back, she doesn't make decisions for me. She just knows that I am her nina and that I love her and she can count on me.
That is a huge deal to me. While she is not my child I am accountable to her. We have a special bond. I saw and I see in her the meaning of life. Life is there for you to live it. There are going to be trials and tribulations but you will make it. What you put out you get back. If you just smile and live life fearlessly you will enjoy it 1000 times more.
It's amazing what kids can teach you. Spend time with a child not only do they benefit but so will you. Don't be afraid of life, don't let life live you. I wish that I could be as good of a person as my goddaughter. She loves everyone, she's forgiving, she shares, she's open to everyone and every experience. I may not be as innocent as a child but I can live with their philosophy, just live. Learn from a child and you will truly live again.

Cookies and Caskets

My entire life I have been surrounded by death. Death is a natural part of life. However, I have been an avid funeral goer since I was 3-years-old. If I think about it we frequented funerals as if they were birthday parties. It was strange yet normal to me. The first funeral I went to was my grand uncle. I suppose that hew was something like my mega great uncle. The only thing I recall surprisingly enough is pink and white animal cookies with multi-colored sprinkles on them. But it seems that the older I got the more funerals I went to and the less cute cookies were associated with them.
When I was in second grade a classmate of mine lost their mother to cancer. I remember being in the pieu writhing around uncomfortable, the feeling of death just choking me. I couldn’t comprehend it. We were 8 years old. Our parents don’t... die do they? I felt so bad for my classmate; it broke my heart. I just wanted to fix everything for her. I couldn't fathom how something so horrible could happen.

I  didn't really know what it felt like, the actual loss. Death hit me hard at the age of 9. My godfather was killed in a car accident. I remember when my mom told me. I heard the blood curtling scream come out of me but I felt like I was a million miles away. I was numb. It was like the world was going on but I was standing still.
I had always seen large processionals in movies or old footage of JFK’s motorcade but I had never been part of one. There I was sitting numb in a green minivan. I know I was there but I didn’t feel there. And I peered out the window to see what seemed like thousands upon thousands of men. I had never seen so much orange in my life. It seemed like a sea of neon orange. Caltrans workers taking off their hard hats waving at us in solidarity, paying homage to the man that I called nino.
I had never been in a church that was busting by the seams with people who just loved someone so much. There was something about my nino, something extra special. And though sometimes it seems I've completely forgotten him or that awful day, flashback of his radiant smile or infectious laugh remain with me. He was the type of person everyone loved and wanted to be around. For me he was just like a father, he took the place of the father I never knew.
From then on death just seemed to fill my life. I found myself comforting people I hardly knew. I didn't know quite what to say to them. I think no one really knows what to say. Death was still so foreign for me to grasp although I had been touched by it and knew its reality, I never stopped to consider my own mortality, until I was 18.
When I was 18, I lost two friends within months of each other. How do you bury someone your age?? You just don't. Til this day I can't fathom it. The first friend, he was a family friend of my high school best friend. I remember she called me and she told me he had been killed. I was at a loss for words. It seemed like I had just seen him a few days ago. He was smiling from ear to ear and telling us jokes. He was being his usual friendly self. Now he was gone. He wasn't in an accident, he wasn't sick, someone took his life.
I couldn't comprehend it. I couldn't take away her family's pain. I couldn't do anything. I was so angry. He was almost 18, he had just graduated. He had the world at his feet and he was going to make things happen. He was an amazing person who I didn't not know very long or intimately but his warmth, his loving personality affected me. And just like that he was gone.
It has been 9 years since he has been dead and I still remember how awful it felt seeing him in a casket. The last time I was that close to him we were laughing, he was warm, he was smiling. The last time I saw him, he was cold and lifeless. He didn't look anything like himself. I could see what they did to him. I could see it all over him. It filled me with rage. He didn't do anything. People want to say racism doesn't exist, that evil does not live in the world, but I know differently. Racism killed my friend, evil took his life. And that I will never forget.
Six months later I lost another friend not to an accident not to violence or drugs but to illness. I had been friends with this girl since Kindergarten. She was the most beautiful girl. She had a beautiful smile and dark long hair. We played volleyball together in junior high. She was my team mate,  a friend, almost neighbor and role model. When she started college she found out she had cancer. She got very ill and thin.
I prayed for her all the time, but I couldn't find it in me to visit her. I was terrified. I just wanted to believe that God cured everything and that my friend would be alright. But toward the end of my freshman year in college the cancer consumed her and she died. She had gone into remission but eventually the cancer came back and took over her. What was this cancer thing?? It was pure evil. It killed my friend though she did everything she could to fight it. How does someone who never smoked or did anything get cancer and die??
I felt like God never listened to me. I began to pull away from God. Yet again I walked up to a casket with the lifeless body of someone my age, my own friend and I saw how real death was. Death was no longer a faint memory associated with cookies but more like a nightmare lying in a casket.
I couldn't believe that God did things like that. Why would God take the life of people so young? or people so genuine and good and loving? The people i lost were the most wonderful people I had ever met. Yet their lives were so short.
It took me a long time to forgive God. It took me a long time to go back to church. It took me a long time to see the beauty in these tragedies. However, now after going to so many funerals and comforting friends and strangers I see that in each one of these deaths was a message, a wake up call. Each one of these people touched the lives of so many and in so little time. Everyone who spoke of them had wonderful memories and things to say. The churches were overflowing with people who wanted to share their love. As I see it now if these people had never crossed my path I would never have known God's pure love.
I have forgiven God. In fact I have humbled myself in these past years. I realize that live is a precious gift. Although we do not understand the things that happen. They all happen for a reason. When someone dies or leaves us it isn't punishment or God's cruelty, it is a reminder that we too are very mortal and in an instant we could be gone. When I die I want to be remember well. I want to be like my godfather or my two friends. They loved everyone they came in contact with. They smiled, they loved, they truly lived. They did what God asks of us every day, to love our neighbor as ourselves, perhaps the most difficult thing to do in life.
While going to funerals seems morbid and odd I find it the way God can use me to comfort those who need it most. Maybe that is my purpose on Earth, to comfort and care. I don't know. All I know is life is short, live it well; treat others well.

ZUMBA!!- It's not just for your nalgas...

Any given evening you can find me gyrating my body and dripping sweat everywhere. No, I'm not giving out lap dances or hanging upside down on a pole. No, I'm dancing, dancing with a bunch of strangers who really aren't strangers at all, they're more like family now. I am a self-proclaimed zumba addict!! 

It's been a little over a year since I went to my first zumba class. My best friend sold me at "dancing" and "reggaeton". I made the drive all the way to Westminister just to shake my ass. I remember seeing the instructor a small little asian guy. He was so tiny and buff and dripping with sweat. I thought to myself,  HE is going to teach me how to sway my hips and roll my body? He does salsa??? Boy oh boy did he know more than a thing or two about salsa.
It was that day that I threw myself into cumbia, salsa, Bollywood, even Greek. I could hardly keep up with the instructor. He was a hyper little ball of energy. He moved so effortlessly and his hips did things I could not get mine to do. Halfway through the class I looked at my friend as if I was going to drop to the floor and die. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't keep up. I thought to myself, "Your fat ass is so out of shape!!" However at the same time I didn't want to stop.

It was that day that I caught the bug, the zumba bug. I started looking up classes everywhere and asking other people about what classes to take. I became Facebook friends with my instructors and practically showed up at everyone of their classses. I looked forward to every class. All day I yearned to dance. 

I have always loved dancing. Prior to Zumba I could be found on any dance floor in any club busting a move from dusk til dawn, breaking in heels, drinking my drink, believing I was having the best time. While I loved dancing at the club, getting dressed up and being with my friends; I hated the wasted money, the assholes, the hangovers and the loneliness at the end of the night.
After Zumba I noticed I felt the same adrenaline rush that clubbing gave me. I also noticed that I was happier and had more energy and then I started losing weight. After gaining most if not all the weight I lost since high school I became depressed and unmotivated. I worked out here and there but nowhere near as hard as I used to. I couldn't seem to get myself back to the gym rat I had once become. I couldn't get back into my skinny jeans and I didn't feel sexy anymore. Once, I started taking Zumba it started coming back. I found my motivation, my desire, my ganas!!

I started encouraging everyone I knew to go with me. Pretty soon my mom and my tia and my other friends were doing it too. I felt so good. I noticed that I was no longer depressed. And when I felt my depression rearing its ugly head I took my ass to the gym. I not only started doing Zumba all the time but I started doing other exercises and reading fitness magazines and making better meals. I couldn't stop smiling and I wanted to share that feeling with everyone I met.
Looking back on the whole experience now I realize that Zumba is not just for your nalgas, it's good for your corazon!! Zumba to me is more than just a workout it's a mindset. You have got to let go and dance like no one is watching. You must live life with the energy in the music. Hold your head high and tell yourself you are the shit!! You must have that Zumba attitude all the time.

Now 25 pounds lighter and a whole lot happier I Zumba all the time. I Zumba so much that I'm actually going to teach my first class and look forward to teaching many more. I still love to get down in the club but my mindset is much different now; my life perspective has changed. I can say that Zumba brought me back to life. I realize that Zumba is not just for your nalgas, it's a way of life. There's nothing not to smile or dance about!!! 

Rocking to the beat

Is it sinful to rock my hips to the beat

To whine my body in such a way

Am I a whore because I dress so minimal

Can’t help my dress accentuates my ass

It’s irrelevant my knowledge

You fake you’re impressed

So you can slide your hand up my dress

If I tell you no you’ll say it’s my fault

Because I should dress like this, I shouldn’t dance like that.

Well I say just because I do it doesn’t mean you have the right.

You shouldn’t think because I’m making love to this beat

That I’m taking your happy ass home with me.

I came here to dance and feel free.

It’s not the same dancing alone in my room

I need to be dressed up, I need me some space.

So I can bust my J-lo up on the floor all up in your face.

I live for the music, the music that lifts me off my feet.

I like to look pretty, make a damn spectacle of myself.

And just because I look sexy it’s not an invitation for you to

Attempt to throw me some game.

This is a party for two, just me and the dj.

I won’t apologize if I’m a woman who lives to be sultry.

I’m sexy and I’m lively, of that I am proud.

But I am not here to hook up. Just came here to dance.

I’m not looking for a man or someone to buy me drinks.

If you want to dance, offer me your hand.

And if this isn’t your thing, not your scene

Then pray let me be.

Because this seduction it’s just a dance

A dance just for me.

Leave me alone, let me rock to the beat.

Confessions of A Color Whore....(part 1)

For Sylvina & Daisy.... <3


As I sat in the chair, foils in my head, magazine in hand, I heard a cute little voice exclaim, "I am a color whore!!!" My eyes darted up to the dollface next to me. All of a suddent three women, (me, my hairdresser, and the dollface) erupted in laughter. I said, "me too!!!". This one revelation fueled a discussion that went on for a few hours. I pondered as to how much I love color. My form of crack was color. The brighter, the bolder the better. I remember wandering into this salon lost and blah yearning for life and vivaciousness. I was stuck in a hair rut, hell I was just in a huge sink hole in my life. I didn't have to say much to the woman I was barely meeting for the first time. I didn't hesitate to yield to her creativity. I spoke- half sentences, which she completed-, she listened, we bonded and she gave me back my life. Yea sounds a little drastic, but it's true. She spun me around and VOILA!!!! There I was!!!! The woman I knew that lived deep down inside me she was looking right back at me. Her eyes were popping, her smile was huge, she could light up the night with her new found life.
I remember that day I cried a lot. It was a deluge if emotion that poured out of me like a torrential flood. I had never felt happier in my life. I had never felt so confident and bold. Suddenly I felt what I always wanted to feel, I didn't give a fuck. This was me and I didn't care who liked it or not. No one had to love me or like me but they damn sure were going to respect me. I felt uplifted like never before. That was the day I colored my life and I have been coloring my world ever since. It wasn't just about my hair, I knew my life, my world was drab and black thirsting for the infusion of color. Every inch of my life wanted to breathe again.
Battling depression for what seems since I was about 11 or so I never really wanted to deal with that. I stuffed my emotions in until they burst until I had to find ways to soothe what I couldn't confront.
I'm not going to say that coloring my hair is a total cure to my depression, not at all, but I believe it inspired me to look at my life, my world much differently. I want to relish every moment as if it's my last. I want to dance like no one is watching, laugh until my side aches, love like it's the very first time, every time. I want to live and be bold and beautiful, no excuses. I am my hair.
I am bold, wild and tenacious and most of all I am stunning!!!
I am hooked.
These are my confessions...the confessions of a color whore.
to be continued....

The Female Alarm

What is it with us women always trying to jump ahead ten paces in life? Maybe it’s because I’ve seen one two many girlfriends of mine devastated because the vision of love they conjured up is crumbling to pieces right before their eyes. What do you tell them? Do you tell them to wait it out do you tell them to run in the other direction? Work at it? I know very well I wouldn’t listen to one thing anyone told me because I wanted what I wanted. I’ve been there. When I could say something super cruel and truthful I don’t, I bite my tongue. Instead I hold their hand and I just listen because I know I’ve loved, I’ve freaked out when singledom reared its ugly head. I had the 25 crisis. I’ve been lost, roaming around Egypt no better than the Israelites did for 40 years. And truly all I ever wanted was someone to listen. I didn’t need or want the motherly advice I just wanted someone to fucking listen.

But now I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. What is it about us women?? It seems we turn twenty-five and the alarm is going off in our heart, in our mind, in our uterus!! Marriage!! Babies.!!! Oh my God I’m old!! Am I too old to get married?? Will I ever get married? What if I can’t have kids?? Can I just hit the snooze on all these complications?? Ok, so perhaps I’m generalizing. However, I know from my own experiences that this talk is very real for so many of us mujeres.

I’ll admit there was a point where I dreaded opening my mail for the sake of seeing a billion more wedding invites and baby showers. It wasn’t because I was not happy for them or because I dislike babies; it was and is for the matter that I am going in a different direction than society and culture steer me to. I am one of the few girls in my circles who is not spoken for-no man, no babies. I am DIFFERENT!!!!

 For a good portion of my life I too, thought that all I wanted was a huge ring, a doting husband, 4 kids (2 girls and 2 boys), the perfect little family and home. What I didn’t know about the ring, the husband, the house, and kids was the responsibility. In my mind everything was easy because there was LOVE. But my idea of love was a dream, it was a far-fetched fantasy. It is because of my married friends and my friends with children that I know what it takes. It is because I have been privileged to share in marriages and in babies and in life stories that I am able to see that everything takes major responsibility. When you go through the gorgeous wedding and watch ur friend glide down the aisle in bliss you don’t realize what is behind the show, until you are crying with them over whether the choice was right or wrong. Is it too late now? Is he who he was? What about me?  See no one tells you what happens after the show is over.

And if I thought I was ready for marriage I really thought I was ready to be a mom. Until my best friend gave birth to her daughter, I didn’t know what having kids really meant. When I held my goddaughter for the first time I realized that she was so amazing and now she was all of our responsibility. But, I don’t really think I realized what it meant to be a mother until one day I was watching her and she got sick. She was talking but few words. She could not tell me anything except “Nina it hurts.” What exactly hurt I didn’t know. And I freaked out. I had to pee she was crying I was alone. “Holy shit what do I do??” I ran with my goddaughter in arms to the bathroom and she wrapped her little legs around my waist determined not to let go of me. So what did I do? I peed!! I pulled down my pants and peed with my goddaughter wrapped around my waist. And as I peed she climbed down to her feet and begin clapping, “nina you did it. “ (lol) Yes I did. In her eyes I was a big girl, I was potty trained. But in my head I was tripping out because  this is what motherhood is all about. No more privacy, no more me time, it’s all about your child. Was I really ready to give that up? Was I ready to sacrifice my selfishness for a little life?? I wasn’t quite sure I could do what my comadre does every day.

I realized I have a loooong way to go before I’m ready for such things. I am ok with being different. This is exactly how my life is supposed to be. I’m supposed to learn from everything. In this time of being single I realized in the end there was LOVE, love was always right in front of me. Life was right in front of me waiting for me to grasp hold of it. People hate to hear how lovely your life is. Sincerely people absolutely hate seeing status updates on Facebook or Twitter about how freaking awesome the sun makes you super tingly and smiley and the roses are blooming. But that’s exactly how I feel now. I am content with my life. I am not anyone else and I never will be. I am a happy, cheesy person who relishes life.

I absolutely adore being single. Not because I hate relationships and commitment or because I hate men. In fact it is quite the contrary. I very much like being the girlfriend. I love having a partner, a best friend, a sexy man around especially one that loves me. However, seeing the bigger picture now I realize in order to get to that place in my life where I am no longer just a single woman but a bride walking towards her groom, toward the next chapter in her life, I need to know who that woman is going to be. After many years of chasing love and trying to force my life and expectations to fit in this perfect little box, I let go. I am living life, not letting life live me. I am not chasing anyone or anything. The only thing I seriously ponder about now is what’s for dinner, passing the GRE, getting that acceptance letter, my own book on the shelf at a bookstore, of happiness. The sky is the limit. I hardly worry because there just doesn’t seem a point in it.

Being single has had its downs and its ups and its downs but I cannot reiterate how much UP it really is. I date a lot, I am learning what I want in my life, in a mate. I smile so much. I am not tied down to anything at all. The options in my life are endless. When we stop fighting with life, with calendars, deadlines and most importantly ourselves things just magically fall into place just as they were meant to. As I reminisce on the past few years I pose a Gwen Stefani thought,“back, looking back, looking back at me, I’m not how I used to be” and indeed I am not who I used to be. I have grown. Had I never let go and stopped fearing. I would not be living. I would not be able to see that the LOVE I was chasing was the love that was always here, my very own. Love is oozing out every inch of my life. Maybe it’s not the wedding bell type of love but it’s LOVE. And once that clicked I realized it wasn’t too late for me. I realized I could have the life I always dreamed of. I could have anything my heart desires if I’m willing to be open and do the work. So to all of who are worried he will never come around, or it will never happen, those of you afraid that your clock is ticking and it’s too late, it’s not too late. Let go, let God and Disfruta La Vida. Just Love, LOVE YOU-after all you deserve to be loved!

Brown Suga part 1

Brown Sugar baby. ooo Brown Sugar Baby. What is this "Brown Suga" and what does it mean to this blog. It's a catchy name but a complex idea. Brown Suga to me is not brown sugar that sweet mix used to add to baking dishes and such. "Brown Suga", it's "flava" not just flavor but "flava", it's the essence of beautiful brown woman. It's the melodic tone of D'Angelo's smoothe groove, "Brown Sugar babe, I gets high off your love, I don't know how to behave. Brown Suga babe". It's what makes a honey, brown mujer extra special. Taye Diggs character in the movie Brown Sugar claims his woman to be so-called "brown sugar", "saying she's fine, she's hella hella sexy but not a ho." Essentially she's the wifey material. She is thee woman. "Brown Suga" it's the stuff, it's what makes food extra delcious, what makes R&B smoothe and melodious. "Brown Suga" is the essence and revolutionary idea steeming from the "Brown is Beautiful" campaign. "Brown Suga" to me is the acceptance, the development, the advancement, the embrace of the very word, mujer (woman). "Brown Suga" is more than just a blog it is my heart.

To be continued....