I grew up with grandparents who were farmers. Like most (all) farmers, they employed undocumented Latinos/as during the summer to pick and dry fruit. I found out early that I love to earn money, so I worked there in the summer cutting fruit to dry. My mom did, too.

Consequently, my childhood was filled with various Spanglish words, and one of my favorites was “chonies.” First of all, because it meant underwear, and underwear is always funny. Second, because my mom had a way of saying it that still makes me smile. Third, because it reminds me of being young, ridiculous, and free-spirited, which is something I cling to with desperation as I find myself nearing 40.

Hence, the name of this blog, which will eventually turn into a metaphorical meat grinder of red wine, contemplation, bad decision-making, and maybe even some smart revelations. Maybe.

Dos!