What's under your skin?

Greetings ladies and gentelmen! Jonathan here.

Lordy, lordy! It's been a while since Kateri and I last posted something and there's a good reason I promise! You see we've been hard at work developing new items, new designs, and all that sweet jazzy stuff to bring you all... *drum roll*

Peculiar Curiosities 2.0!!

We're getting a systems upgrade which'll be fully powered by small children! Just imagine the productivity that'll come out with those little fingers working 'round the clock! Oh, I kid...but a boy can dream, right? It's been full steam ahead on our little purple locomotive toward the grand upgrade, running over all the cows standing on the tracks!

Now that we're done with the sampler of what's to come. Let's move on to the main course, what'd ya say? This post was inspired by a friend of ours, Fancy Lady. She had written a post where she talked what her heritage was and asked about everyone else's heritage. That immediately set off a nuclear light bulb in mah head as Kateri and I were looking for the right thing to make our blog a bit more personal. I thank you, your fanciship!

And as my brother once said to me, "Mi'jo, if you want to get your feet wet, you've got to jump in feet first." So here we go! Mi madre is a Mexican born in Austin, Texas and my father is a Hungarian born in Dublin, Texas.


The Hungarian Flag


The Mexican Flag

I was born in Bossier City, Louisiana and now live in Arkansas, not a place I'd prefer to live, but I guess it works for the time being. There was a single question that the Fancy Lady asked in her blog post that really struck a chord with me. It was, "Are you proud of your heritage?" As a Mexican-Hungarian, I can say I am only proud of the Hungarian side. I love my mother dearly, but I cannot stand that I'm Mexican. All throughout school I had teachers that would say, "Jonathan, you're Mexican, aren't you? Can you help so-and-so with what I'm saying?" and in response I'd say, "No, I can't speak Spanish..." I'd get a blank stare with, "...but, you are Mexican, right?"

My own mother can't even speak Spanish, haha. So what makes them think that I can? It was too funny to see my teachers react to my parents walking into the classroom at Parent-Teacher Conference. There's an average height WHITE, balding man with a short, (when I say short, I mean SHORT! My mom is only 4 foot 11 inches tall)Mexican woman. Haha, my parents would get very livid with my teachers when they'd say, "I just thought since Jonathan was Hispanic that he'd know Spanish, t-t-that's all..." Now a little 4 foot Mexican woman doesn't seem all that intimidating, but my mom always seemed to make ALL of my teachers stutter when she'd glare at them down her glasses and say, "I don't speak Spanish. Why would Jonathan?" My dad would follow up with, "We speak Hungarian at the house."

What my dad would say wasn't really a lie nor was it really the truth. We would speak Hungarian, but it was only the swear words that he happened to pick up from his father, haha. I usually speak pretty ill of any Mexicans, which I shouldn't because there are a few very hard working, good Mexican people who become US citizens like my Uncle Mike who loves being an American. It's just frustrating to say, "Yes, I'm Mexican." and get an, "Oh...well, umm...I like burritos and Corona!"

I love being Hungarian, because there is so much about my family that's interesting. Like my great grandmother was Hungarian royalty, before she rebelled and married my great grandfather, who was a high ranking officer in the Austria-Hungarian Calvary. Mixing royalty with "military trash" was a big no-no during that time.

Before this post gets any longer, I shall end it here with this summing up the love/hate relationship with my heritage.


Cool? Not so much.


Hells Yeah!

I leave you all with this - What is your heritage?

Until we meet again, my friends!

-Jonathan

PS - I'd like to thank Moondoggie for letting us know about the Etsy Success email that featured our forum post. That's pretty awesome, ya dig? And I'd like to welcome all the new followers with a Howdy howdy! You may now stare at me like some sort of crazy, stuttering cowboy!