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dia de gracias

Thursday, November 27th, 2008

My sister and I cooking the following in one oven, four burners and one toaster oven [ALL from scratch mind you]:

  • Turkey
  • Penil (Pork Shoulder)
  • Roasted Chicken
  • Stuffing
  • Cranberry Sauce
  • Potato Salad
  • Macaroni Salad
  • White rice
  • Arroz con gandules (rice with pigeon peas)
  • Mashed potatoes
  • Candied yams
  • Biscuits
  • Sweet Potato pie with pecans
  • Pumpkin Pie
  • Mixed green salad
  • Whipped cream (Yes bitches I whipped my own cream)
  • Bruschetta
  • Gravy
  • Garlic butter cream
  • Coquito (this typical Puerto Rican holiday drink with coconut milk, rum, and some other stuff)
  • So the happy accident occured when I heated up way too much of this heavy cream and butter combo I had set up to mix in with the mashed potato. So I used the leftover cream/butter mixed and heated up, adding some more butter and some minced garlic, and boiled it till it reduced and added some flour to thicken it up (much like you do with gravy) and poured it into a serving cup thing and told people it was for the biscuits. They ended up pouring it over everything and I had to go make more because they loved it so much.

    In attendance: Me, my sister Liz, my sister’s "friend" Barry, my Mom, my sister Marilyn, My niece Desmari, my nephew’s Joe and Kenny, Kenny’s friend Zachary, my Uncle Sammy, his girlfriend Charo, her son Fernando, my Aunt Awilda, our family friend Liz, my cousin Felix and his mom Lisa.

    Some family moments:

  • My cousin Felix (who’s in his late 30s) explaining to me his feud with my other sister and how her husband called him and cussed him out and called him a crackhead, to which my cousin says to me: "Can you believe he said that to me? I’m not a crackhead, I mean I only do that shit once a week but I’m not a crackhead" My face: "…."
  • My 13 year old nephew getting a kick out of fucking with our drunk relatives by asking how many fingers did he have up and waving them around.
  • My 62 year old Aunt Awilda telling me about how she’s tired of hooking up with men her age because she has too work too hard to help them get it up (there was hand motions involved in this story) and how she’d rather fuck guys closer to my age because they’re at her level sexually. She also explained how women always fuck better than men because we last longer and she was shitfaced drunk telling me all this. Fabulous.
  • I danced with my family, it was a nice moment. We put on some music and worked it out.
  • My uncle dancing is by far the most ridiculous shit I’ve ever seen. He puts his hand over his stomach and hops. I kid you not.
  • The phrase fuck you used so lovingly with everyone
  • My mom being there. She was released yesterday from the rehab center (she’s been getting physical therapy for 2 months after her knee surgery) so it was great she was here.
  • My Uncle’s Girlfriend’s 19 year old son giving me makeup tips and wearing nicer lip gloss than I was.
  • It was a nice day and tomorrow I’m going to do karaoke with Wing Mai, Kevin, Nassim and Rebecca. Good times. Good times.

    Posted in Personalized | No Comments »

    the one with the background

    Saturday, July 5th, 2008

    I always feel when people put a song to these entries they try and find something other than what they’re really listening to so they don’t seem so weird, but rather quirky or scene. So I’m not quoting The Arcade Fire or Zap Mama, but fuck it, I’m listening to Hanson and damn proud of it. I have the oddest taste in music, if you didn’t already know by now.

    Anywho, hi, my name is Joliz, and I’m currently procrastinating getting to work in my South Bronx (SOBRO BABY) apartment. I’m a snobby New Yorker who really thinks she’s the shit because she’s from there. Or at least that’s what I’ll let people believe. I hail from the Bronx, I’m a walk away from Yankee Stadium to be exact. A lengthy walk, but a walk nonetheless. By default this means I have pinstripe pride, get over it.

    I was born in Bellevue Hospital, so it should be expected for me to be slightly insane right? Actually I was born in the medical center, even though Bellevue is famous for it’s psychiatric ward. My mother’s name is Elizabeth, she hates her middle name because her father gave it to her, so I’ll call her by it just to upset her sometimes. My father’s name is Oscar, he passed away from cancer when I was three years old. My only memory of him was waiting in Tio Guito’s garage for him to come home because he had promised to take me out for pizza. He came home late and brought me a teddy bear that was as big as I was, and instead of accepting it, I mustered up all my strength and threw it at him in a huff because he broke his promise. I always tear up recalling that. Anyway, my mom was 36 and my father was 38 when I was born. Seeing as my sisters were 18 and 17 by then I was definitely an “oops” baby.

    My name came from the fact that my sister Liz was engaged to a guy named Joe at the time, hence Joliz. No dash, no capitals, just Joliz. My sister Marilyn played the ultimate middle child card and complained about the fact that the new baby doesn’t have her name. Joliz Marilyn doesn’t sound right by any standards so I was given Marilyn’s middle name, Evette, making my full name Joliz Evette InsertLastNameHere.

    Anywho, the first three years of my life were spent in Bronx, New York. From there I promptly moved to Barceloneta, Puerto Rico where I lived in an even smaller sector called Palenque where my Tio David had built his, my moms, my Titi Miriam’s, and my Tio Guito’s house which were all in the same circle. Tio Guito owned a garage but I never remember seeing anyone actually having their car serviced there. Our homes were next to the bar which sold candy at the same counter making it a frequent stop afterschool. I attended Jose Cordero Rosario Elemental until I was 8 years old. All our addresses, including my school, were in P.O. Boxes and I did not realize that until now.

    I moved to Orlando, Florida and attended Pinar Elementary in Orange County. I met my best friend Meghan Gabriel and that’s all that’s important from that era. I moved back to the Bronx for 6th grade at Joseph H Wade JHS 117x. Ignore the fact it looks like a prison. One day I will write a novel on how 6th and 7th grade where single handedly the two greatest years of my life. Until then this little blurb will suffice. I mean, how often does a class trip to the Coney Island Aquarium end up on a beach with all 27 of my classmates rolling up our Tommy Hilfiger and FUBU jeans to our knees treading the cold possibly contaminated waters of the Coney Island beach because Genine lost her gellie shoes in the water. That’s another entry for another day. I moved back to Florida for 8th grade at Liberty Middle School. Insert teenage angst to the max and somehow that equated to a teenybopper Hanson fan come freshman year at The Beacon School.

    High school is a blur of of New York stories and Kevin Williamson drama that will one day come in the form of a screenplay I will sell to the WB or FOX and maybe people will start PB’ing versions of myself and my old friends. Anywho, despite my pretty damn good SAT scores, and graduating with honors in math, science, history, and french (I was a horrid english student), I ended up going to a state school for financial purposes. Enter SUNY New Paltz, home to vegans, potheads, Long Island preps, and Mayor Jason West who performed same sex marriages shortly after San Francisco causing TV cameras to be in our small town faces for a good week. I couldn’t be prouder though.

    I dropped out after sophomore year, taking the year off to.. find myself? I still haven’t found what I’m looking for, thank you Bono. I once thought of becoming a writer, but as some could tell you I don’t exactly have the most confidence in that area. I recently made the decision to return to school as a Media Studies and Puerto Rican Studies major at Hunter. I am seriously considering becoming a high school teacher, though my mind changes daily.

    I have two sisters, Liz and Marilyn. My sister Liz has two sons, Joseph who’s turned 20 in April, and Kenny who turned 13 back in December. Marilyn had her first child on January 18th 2005, a little girl named Desmari. I have a sometimes brother named Junior, I say sometimes because it depends on my mood whether I’m related to him or not. If you want to be technical he’s related to my sisters since they share a father, but from time to time I’ll claim knowing him. He’s thirtysomething and is some sort of high rank in the United States Army, I know he was a drill sergeant four years ago, I can only assume he’s gone up from there. He has two sons which I’ve only met once.

    Quick facts: I turn 24 this year. I’m currently employed at a non profit organization which empowers youth to become leaders by educating them on social and human rights issues and encouraging them to take action. I own rosario-dawson.net I loathe brand name celebrities with a passion, you know … those who feel the need to have movies/cd’s/tv shows/fashion lines/endorsement deals/etc shoved down my throat. I’d like to point out that J.Lo should stop claiming my neighborhood, it does not want her. I’m an active liberal which I define as someone who not only leans to the left end of the political spectrum but also is actively involved in creating social change. I believe everyone has a healthy level of hypocrisy in them (like hating Britney Spears but finding her songs on your ipod), but it’s learning to keep that level neutral that’s the hard part. I love theater and I admittedly don’t know a lot about it. I youtube and have contemplated creating a private account just for blogs to post here. My username is jolizevette only because I’m too fickle and not creative enough to come up with some word I felt described me. Even though I say I don’t, I really do love romantic comedies. My best friends from childhood are named Meghan and Danielle and I’m still friends with them to this day.

    I have an unhealthy obsession with the internet. I have other loves of course, and I probably will continue to add to my list of things that make me happy, like ten cent icees and open fire hydrants, but my fingers are tired (and no not because of that you sick pervert!) so I’ll leave it here.

    Posted in Personalized | 1 Comment »

    Definition


    soyrican: /sɔɪˈri kən/ adj.
    • slang. the state of being Puerto Rican.
    • a term adopted by the author to poke fun at her inconsistencies with her culture. You don't eat beans? Man, you ain't real Puerto Rican, you're the soy version, soyrican!
    • a twenty-four year old self proclaimed geek who does not apologize for her often questionable taste. (see also: Joliz)

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