Did you get your cenizas on?

I did not get my cenizas on. I might have L* do them for me when she gets home. We do this some years, because I like the significance and the ritual, but no longer necessarily feel the need for a priest.

Still, I shoulda gone to Sta Elizabeths, just to be around the people.

On the walk to BART this morning I saw many happy people who had just come from there and were now enjoying tamales or champurrado or pupusas or elotes from the street vendors. The funny thing is, I think the priest there must have little thumbs or something because most of the cruces de ceniza looked like little tattoos.

My day was hell and included tears in public. Oh well, at least it shows I’m human. (apparently something people are in danger of forgetting. it must be all those superhuman skills I have, like running up the escalator in high-heeled boots. although today I didn’t even have my lipstick with me, so i was practically already kryptonited even before the meeting)

a famous quote by another junior colleague:

There’s a fine line between productivity and alcoholism.

OK, I guess I’ll wait till L* gets home before I have that glass of wine, just so I don’t feel like I’m on the wrong side of that line.

Isn’t machafemme a cool mami?