Florespinoza is derived from my Grandmothers' maiden names. Francisca Flores was my Maternal Grandmother's name. She died around 1940 of cervical cancer. My Paternal Grandmother, Mama Pepa, was Josefa Espinoza. I remember Mama Pepa at her kitchen table, sewing, when I was little. She made Papa Bear, Daniella's teddybear, a cute cordorouy suit. Rob was gracious enough to give him to me after Daniella left, and I have him in it, sitting on my desk. So when you put the two names together as FlorEspinoza, it translates to "thorny flower", which is how I feel sometimes. My mother likes the name.
Losing my balance and my mobility slowing down has been devastating to me. I was that confident, bitchy and girly-girl that women admired but were jealous of, wearing the high heels working my ghetto bootie with the side to side ass-movement, just like a runway walk. I liked wearing my low-cut blouses for slight jiggle effect (because they're firm, not flabby), or not-TOO-short skirts showing off my thick thighs and accentuating my bubble butt. I was always nicknamed "Sexy Raquel", but made sure never to venture to the sleazy side. I always had somewhere to go, and made a presentation of it, as I do have a great sense of style and flair. Boy, did I work it!
My passion, and perhaps my biggest loss, is dancing. I was getting pretty damn good at Salsa, and my ass is perfect for Merengue. I had developed my style of flutter-step for Cha-Cha, and loved doing my "disco" flairs with my arms and hands. The Salsa scene is like a caste society, especially at Cafe Sevilla. An excellent dancer may choose to dance with a lower-level dancer, but that lower-level cannot dance "up". I was gradually moving up, frequently dancing with one "upper-level" man I used to love watching. Then again, maybe he danced with me because I'd slept with him a couple of times, so he knew I had good rhythm. Regardless, dancing is my passion, and I refuse to believe I will never dance again. I'm just calling it a hiatus, and will take up Tango and perhaps Samba (a very difficult Brazillian dance) when I make my return debut.
I subscribed to my friend's blog, and another guy whose name escapes me. I feel like quite the novice having read them both. They are really great writers and have links and everything attached to their blogs. I feel like the Freshman on the Varsity football team. I can attach photos, but links? Songs? Videos? Fuggetaboutit.
I'm listening to the Tropical station on Music Choice TV right now. It's Fania All Stars, and I feel a stirring in my gut and pain in my heart. I'm holding back tears because the desire to move and dance is so intense. Me siento como una flor espinoza en este momento...
Losing my balance and my mobility slowing down has been devastating to me. I was that confident, bitchy and girly-girl that women admired but were jealous of, wearing the high heels working my ghetto bootie with the side to side ass-movement, just like a runway walk. I liked wearing my low-cut blouses for slight jiggle effect (because they're firm, not flabby), or not-TOO-short skirts showing off my thick thighs and accentuating my bubble butt. I was always nicknamed "Sexy Raquel", but made sure never to venture to the sleazy side. I always had somewhere to go, and made a presentation of it, as I do have a great sense of style and flair. Boy, did I work it!
My passion, and perhaps my biggest loss, is dancing. I was getting pretty damn good at Salsa, and my ass is perfect for Merengue. I had developed my style of flutter-step for Cha-Cha, and loved doing my "disco" flairs with my arms and hands. The Salsa scene is like a caste society, especially at Cafe Sevilla. An excellent dancer may choose to dance with a lower-level dancer, but that lower-level cannot dance "up". I was gradually moving up, frequently dancing with one "upper-level" man I used to love watching. Then again, maybe he danced with me because I'd slept with him a couple of times, so he knew I had good rhythm. Regardless, dancing is my passion, and I refuse to believe I will never dance again. I'm just calling it a hiatus, and will take up Tango and perhaps Samba (a very difficult Brazillian dance) when I make my return debut.
I subscribed to my friend's blog, and another guy whose name escapes me. I feel like quite the novice having read them both. They are really great writers and have links and everything attached to their blogs. I feel like the Freshman on the Varsity football team. I can attach photos, but links? Songs? Videos? Fuggetaboutit.
I'm listening to the Tropical station on Music Choice TV right now. It's Fania All Stars, and I feel a stirring in my gut and pain in my heart. I'm holding back tears because the desire to move and dance is so intense. Me siento como una flor espinoza en este momento...
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