Remembering Miami

I had been talking to this friend Araceli on Facebook for half a year or so, and as we had become good friends there, I decided I’d go down to Miami Christmastime 2010 to visit her during her birthday weekend.  

She had been posting online about all the exciting and fun happenings of that coming weekend, including many nights out and a pro life event that Sunday for Rosario por la Vida (a Pro Life Catholic organization), and I was both curious and anxious to get away for an adventure. I thought I could pack the entire time in full purpose: meeting her, having a couple of experiences of a lifetime, and seeing Miami. 

Crazy, right? Yeah, a little….since I had never been to Miami, nor met this person in person.

But, strange as it was, I felt extremely calm about the situation; having an inner conviction that God had orchestrated it somehow, as I’d had just enough money for the trip, even though it was an unplanned event. 

*this happened again, where I had just enough to make a trip to Los Angeles this past summer, and met some beautiful people, able to tour also some great organizations there, but that’s another blog post. ;)

When I arrived, I waited anticipatingly on the platform, going from only the mental picture of what she looked like in her Facebook albums. When I saw the car drive up to the curb, no lie, she looked EXACTLY like her pictures…her smile, already familiar.

Immediately, there was a warm friendly welcome and she and I chatted the entire trip to her house like seasoned friends. I realized only halfway through our talks that her son Joshua was in the back seat, he had been so respectfully quiet...

He warmed up and opened up to me when we got back to the house, by showing me his favorite movie: "Lord of the Rings". He played his favorite part over and over for me. So cute...he's going to be a lady killer.

Ara’s home was a marina, with a nice stucco patio and small pool. Inside, there was a movie theater room which I wished I had taken the time to indulge in…that would have been a cool experience.

I was unawares that there were also two others staying the weekend as well (apparently the custom in her home; being the friendly warm second home to many passer-throughs and friends). That was fine by me, although slightly unexpected, but added just a bit more spice to my stay.

One of the friend’s was a beautiful and graceful former model from Columbia named Amada Rosa Perez, who is post- abortive but now devotes her time and life to living a pure chaste life and being a spokeswoman for life against abortion. The other was a photographer named David (who arrived the next day), whose primary photographic works focuses on a Marian theme capturing the images of Mary, the mother of Jesus, around the globe.

We had some good talks about Mary, his passion, and photography pieces he brought. Out of respect and since I also admired it, he offered me a print of Jesus on a cross he had taken. It was an amazing print he was just going to gift me…I have yet to take him up on that, but I intend to.

I admired Amada Rosa devotion to her prayers. She would read from a prayer book in mornings (and I assumed nights too). I don’t know much about what sect of Catholicism she practiced, but she wore a veil over her head in mass and while she prayed. She really looked like a bride all in white with a veil. I guess that is the point, purity speaking, to be presented as pure with a look of humility also. It was really elegant and regal as well, and of course she was very beautiful. Is it blasphemous to say that she looked almost Marian-like…Well, she did. 

She showed us clips of her former soap opera and modeling career, very different slice of life from the person she is now. She explained to us that she only models from the neck up, her wrists and hands (mostly endorsing Catholic jewelry), as her body is now a temple of the Lord. I really respect and admire that decision, as it gives her purpose and also uses her beauty both rightly and respectfully.

Somewhere in the fray, I met the beautiful stylish l’Ivette Delgado. 

Ivette was a power house of words, movement, and shimmering black hair from the get-go. We clicked right away, as I imagine most people do with her. I can’t imagine anyone NOT liking her, but, there are also some that have said the same about me, and it is a fact that I am also listed on some people’s “NO” list. Not everyone can or does like me/us. Not everyone will, but those that count, do, I guess. 

Well, no, come to think of it, I guess it was the cake that did "sealed the deal". She and Joshua, had planned to bring a cake home for Ara. And, it felt like I was immediately immersed in this family by the placement of a traditional Mexican icing mark on the nose. We all looked like Rudolph the red nose reindeer, only we had white noses. 

Yep, it all was going so fast…I really had NO TIME to think about all the happenings…but just to roll and enjoy it while there and while it lasted.

We got all dressed up and went to mass that first night (and my first time). Ivette sat at my side and kept me abreast on all the happenings, as everything was in Spanish, and was new and different from my norm. We were giggling, chatting like two schoolgirls, sharing a jacket at intervals because the church was so cold. And, every now and then, I would find these little sequins from my shirt on the floor, on the bench, on the jacket. *They even were all around the house later…didn’t know that my shirt would de-sequin and leave all these little reminders like that behind. 

After mass, we met up with some other friends of my host: the handsome, friendly, funny Hispanic Television host Rodolfo Jemenez and his then girlfriend, professional international model Nikki Dubose. *Had I known that that short visit would make these friends some lifelong pals? No, not a clue…but. it. did.

After church, there was some food (two tables, two lines), but I didn’t get any because they ran out of it by the time we actually went up to go get some (everyone I was with, was too busy mingling, which is fine…but, I was admittedly a little put off because I was so hungry. You don’t like me when I’m hungry…just kidding. 

And, as I mentioned by the time we went to the food tables, they had run out…I knew I wasn’t going to die, that night, but had to wait a just a little longer than I wished, for sustenance.

And, people flocked to the beautiful couple…
Oh, the middle aged women there were just gushing over Rodolfo…I hadn’t known yet, that he was a celebrity, but then I was like: ‘yeah, ok…he must be one’, because, even as I don’t know what the women were saying to him (as I was a few feet away), I could tell plenty enough from their body language that he was some kind of “big deal”.

Uh-huh…You know that certain way that people are with celebrities…a lot of silly fawning and gawking goin’ on… 

So, we headed back to the house.

There were all these restaurants along the streets from Cuban, Columbian, Puerto Rican, and Mexican…So great, I would have loved to do a taste test at each of them.

I was just enjoying the ride and then there was this car on fire in the middle of the road. We just stopped both our cars and freaked out yelling: “Did you see THAT”? Wow! We were just assuming it was a gang thing…Apparently the gang world is on fire in Miami (pun intended). 

To start the party, we had authentic real deal no-foolin’ Mexican tequila shots to start off the birthday festivities. 

Haha Yeah, haha…um, and I don’t drink but a glass of wine every two weeks or so. So, of course I was given the LARGEST shot glass out of everyone… *that Rodolfo duped me with his ‘just a little one, come on’. 

I complained to him saying: “How come I get the largest glass???”

His answer: “It’s not the largest, no it’s little, trust me?” *when people say “trust me” that’s when you know you shouldn’t “trust them”, just FYI.

Yeah right, a little one (hmmmm…sure, give the innocent purist the largest gulp of tequila you can pour, we all know you want a show…)…

Whew boy, an felt it go down like fire in da hole, man…for real, I did!!!

But no, I was not drunk (never have been), nor do I condone drinking. And, like I said above, I rarely drink. But, I’ll be honest and say that I am glad that I stopped after that one shot…that Mexican stuff is no joke, folks...not gonna lie.

And, I DO NOT drink beer. Hate the taste (also beer guts), but if someone drank imported beer and not the BUDS, well then, maybe I wouldn’t mind it/them so much. It is the hick image, I think, that comes with American beer that I don’t like...and the smell, and the taste. Oh, I already said that…

Anyways, I have an occasional glass o’ wine now and then, just for a taste of luxurious calm and living.

Oooo and Love, Love, love le champagne…

(Getting way off topic) First had such in high school, when I went to the Marine House in Mad. celebrating some American Holiday or other, and it was fab. 
Oh, those were days…haha (golden blonde tall skinny 16 or 17 year old and well- bodied lonely Marines  COULD have been a recipe for disaster...Thanks God for protecting me, from myself and them!!).

continued....