A Day In The Life Of Bexicana

Growing up I never had a sense of culture.
I remember asking my Mom where my family
was from. Her mother passed away when she
was three years old and for my mother, it
all stops there. My mother isn't even really
sure when her real birthdate is. I always
feel bad asking her things about her family
because she was raised by her grandparents
and feels like no one really wanted her.
I never asked my Dad, but my grandmother,
his mother, always seemed like she could
care less about talking about her family
history. She's the type of woman who would
get up everyday, get dressed, do her hair up,
and put on lots of makeup. NOTHING wrong
with that, except that it was only to sit
outside on her porch with her sisters...