4) English was the first language and only language that was taught to me at home. Even though most of mi familia habla espanol I was told that I never needed it and therefore never needed to learn it. Though I eventually picked up some spanish as it was inevitable with all the Spanish speakers in the house. The obvious words for food I picked up significantly fast, for example cabeza, al pastor, jugo, y tamarindo. Other words like la puerta came with time as I was trying to pick up on what people would ask me or tell me to do. Though the majority of what I learned would be slang and more of the vulgar terms of the language. As for English I learned your standard run of the mill American english. Yet as I got older I learned new ways to manipulate the English language in the form of slang. Some of those words being deadass, hella, headass, or straight up abbreviating words. I tend to use these words when texting or talking to my friends in an very informal environment. Yet I find this slang infecting my everyday life and replacing some words in my vocabulary completely, even when I speak in what is supposed to be a more formal environment. This can sometimes lead to people giving me inquisitive and puzzled looks as I try to explain my use of slang to them. I’ve acquired these forms of writing and speaking over an excruciating long period of time and still feel like i have a lot to learn.
1) It was one of those perfect nights, you know the type. Where it’s not bitter cold, yet not melting hot, a full moon out so you can see outside. Brandon was out with his amigos, they went to go movies and then after eat some street tacos. Brandon had some al pastor and lengua tacos, his friends had a mix of carnitas y cabezas. The movie had been decent, something about a bunch of superheroes fighting this one really determined villain bent on killing half of the universe. In the end he actually won the fight and left everybody shook. Brandon was very excitingly talking to his friends about the movie, it eventually occurred to him to check his phone. On the lock screen it displayed 1:17 a.m. “Fuck, I’m finna get my ass beat. Yo I gotta go home.” Brandon said in a sort of a panic. Brandon downed his remaining tacos and rushed to his car. He struggled to put the keys in the ignition as he fumbled around in the dark and tried to move as fast as possible. He made his way down through the streets at an rather unsafe speed. Luckily it was late out and all he had to look for was la policia, Brandon thanked the lord that there wasn’t any cops out he never really got along with them. As he pulled into his driveway he cursed himself for leaving his headlights on, they lit up the whole house and probably woke everybody up. He quietly made his way to the front door and opened it, so far so good. He to one step forward and heard the floor creak and groan. “Puta Madre” he said to himself quietly, he then proceeded to sneak his way to his room. On the way he passed his grandmothers bedroom, he had hoped to not wake her up. Just when he thought he was in the clear a faint voice can be heard “Buenas noches mijo.” Brandon sighed “Goodnight abuela” he replied with and shuffled into bed.
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