All posts by Ave Valencia

About Ave Valencia

My friends say I'm an artist. My cats think I'm the greatest thing since smoked salmon. My family- well let's just leave it at that.

Hypothetical Avocado

Hypothetical Avocado
You’re my very best friend.
In the breakfast or in the dinner
You’re more than just make pretend.
I can spread you on
Or I can spread you on
I can spread you
On chinchillas
Or even on my own head!
Hypothetical Avocado
Don’t ever dare leave my side.
Many fruits come and go.
They are mere passers-by.
I can’t spread them
On potatoes,
I can’t spread them
On rice.
Hypothetical Avocado!
You’re the
Of my eyes.

Pregnant Bi-Polar Bear Blueberry Polaris Knitting

Dear Body,

Dear Body,

Good morning.

I understand that you haven’t been feeling well lately and this is the second time our immune system collapses in three months.

I want you to know I appreciate all your hard work and don’t blame you for our present state.

I am sorry if I don’t always give you everything you need and for keeping you up at night worrying about irrelevant things.

Sometimes I act like you embarrass me, but the truth is I am very proud of you and wouldn’t want to live inside any other body.

Sure, we have our differences of opinion…
You want to eat x number of cupcakes whereas I only want half… You want to lie in the sand whereas I force you to run on it…
But I try to make up for your sacrifices by supplying you with ample amounts of chocolate.

Bi-Polar Bear Blueberry Polaris Cupcakes, Cookies n Beer

I received your list of requests you made me.
I don’t think I can get you more hugs but I will work on it.
I don’t know what to do about all the work hours and the commute.
To be honest, that has been very hard on me too.
Ok, ok, I will look for a job closer by, even if it pays less.
I agree that I need to spend more time playing guitar.

I am glad we are communicating with each other again, even if it is through a blog.

I know you liked the food in Italy more than the food here so I promise to take you back there some day.

It’s true- I stopped trying to make you look pretty months ago, but it’s not that I don’t care.
You look good enough without makeup.
Ok, ok, I’ll try a little harder.
But I’m not going to torture you with waxes or substances that smell like ammonia.

My dearest Body, I tend to have lapses in judgment and you usually pay the consequences.

Bi-Polar Bear Blueberry Polaris Throws Up
Hang in there.
I need you.

Which is the same as you.

PS- I know your natural inclination is to try to get pregnant but I’m not sure that’s what either of us really wants.

Pregnant Bi-Polar Bear Blueberry Polaris Knitting

Pregnant Bi-Polar Bear Blueberry Polaris Throws Up

© Ave Valencia 2015

Flash Fiction: the Day Naboo Was a Human

Ever since she was a kitten, Naboo just naturally assumed one day she would grow up to be a human like her mom, dad and grandparents.

“But you are not human,” her sister, Fifa, would insist in vain. “You are a cat, like me. You have stripes and whiskers like me.”

“Nonsense, Fifa, you may grow up to be a cat if that’s what you choose to be, but I’m sure I’m gonna grow up to be a human, just like Mommy.”


The years went by and Fifa taunted Naboo.
“Ha! See? You still have a tail and all.”

Naboo replied aggravated, “Wait until I graduate kitten-garden! Then I can start working like a humans do.”

Fifa rolled her pearly cyan eyes while Naboo worked hard at eating up all the garden plants, believing that was the fastest way to graduate from kitten-garden.

Finally, her graduation day came and Mommy and Daddy said, “OK, Naboo, that’s enough munching on plants. No more garden for you.”

They had a two-week long graduation party in which no one ate anything but canned gourmet food and sedatives.

Naboo applied to a number of jobs but none of them called back because she didn’t have enough work experience.

“Do you think it’s ok I used Dr. Mowry as a reference?” she asked Fifa.

“Our vet? What if she tells them you had a UTI?”

“Oh. But nobody knows what that is.”

“People know, Naboo! You don’t know cause you’re a cat!”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Cat! Cat cat cat cat cat! C-A-T, CAT!”

And they’d start to wrestle on top of their mommy at three in the morning.

Naboo was beginning to lose all hope of ever going to work as a human and was beginning to think a life of sleep, play and laziness might be all she was cut out for.

Then one day her mom woke up hideously ill.

“Naboo, darling, I cannot go to work today. Please call the office and tell them I am sick.”

This was the chance Naboo had been waiting for.

While Mommy was busy emptying out the previous night’s tuna from her digestive system, Naboo cunningly swiped the green button on the cell phone and meowed that due to unforeseen circumstance, she would be filling in for her mom that day.

Of course, it didn’t matter what she was meowing.
None of the people at the office spoke Meow.

She arrived at the office and sat on her mommy’s chair.
“Hello,” said her mommy’s nearsighted boss, Mr. Galapagos.
He handed her some papers.
“Please shred this stack.”

Naboo was an experienced shredder.

Her mom’s manager called.
“I’m out today but do you need me to buy more sticky notes?”

Naboo replied, “Mrror.”

Customers came and rubbed her belly.
She told them it would give them luck, and they gave her money.
She didn’t know what money was, so she shredded that too.
She made copies of lots of papers on the paw-friendly copy machine, before shredding those as well.
When she wasn’t sure if she’d shredded enough, she decided to go ahead and shred every paper in the office, just to be on the safe side.
Then she filled stacks of empty boxes with the shredded paper and took a hard-earned nap inside.

And when the day was over, the boss came and congratulated her on her efficiency.

Naboo had worked so hard she had missed her lunch break.
When she got home that evening, she explained to her parents, “Mom? Dad? I am grateful for the opportunity but I think I’m gonna keep being a kittens for now.”

Fifa rolled her glossy Venus-shaded eyes and waited til three in the morning before picking another wrestling match against her obstinate twin sister.


Here is advice on how to write a dynamic intro:
Don’t do it like this.
My website disappeared.
Yesterday or today.
Not clear when.
I thought at first someone hacked it but I’m so lovable… Who would want to hack a page about polar bears?
Not to mention adorable conceited panda bears.
I tried calling my host which has 24/7 service.
That’s 24 minutes of service for each day of the week.
I had to catch the bus home cause the check engine light went on in my car and I freaked out and took it to my mechanic, even though my husband and my father said the car was fine.
As it turns out, the car is fine but the best news is- I have an honest mechanic.
Well, I had to catch the bus home so I had to cancel the phone and web chat technical support requests I was waiting on.
When I got home my husband pried my personal life and I had to tell him my website had disappeared.
He waited and waited and waited on hold forever and ever and ever until
someone picked up.
Then I grabbed the phone from him.
“No one hacked into your site, Ma’m.
It’s a plug-in problem.”
And so the most excitement I’ve had on a recent night fizzled just like that, like a coke goes flat in the fridge.
The coke of life.
My “social” life.
The hip hub where all my imaginary friends hang, having deep conversations about me.
So now all my fonts n stuff are messed up.
I can’t upload anything cause we moved temporarily again so there’s no WiFi.
My point is my head hurts, I’m terribly sleepy and if my online portfolio got a little messed up, well, at least the pictures are there, so don’t expect me to fix it for a while.

The Missing Period

Did you ever miss a period
In a run on sentence,
A period that you misplaced,
A period so round and subtle
Like the beauty mark on your face-
Wasn’t under a comma,
Not between a pause…
It built up suspense
Like light through a lens
But that period was still
At a loss,
You looked under dashes,
Question marks?
Called out for it!
But it still didn’t come
So you crawled under an
But felt like
Because the period never begun
And what’s a semicolon
Ever even good for;
I bet it’s just
To make you feel safe
But oh that period,
The one that you wrote for-
That one’s done and gone
Like a knave.

A Place Called Home

I should leave before my parents come home.
But I’m so comfortable here.
The closest thing to “home.”
The walls I grew up in.
I used to look out these windows and yell at my friends to wait up.
And the whole property was our playground.
We used to picnic on the roof. 🙂
We used to climb up the side wall of the building that is covered in bricks.
Up two 90° stories of bricks.
Who the hell was watching us?
No one.
My husband and I thought about buying a house around the corner.
It’s $1,800,000.
Give or take.
That was short lived.
But it’s ok.
My childhood is here; not necessarily my adulthood.
God knows where that is.

Here Comes the Sun

A poem by Fifa Cat

Come on!
Come on!
Here comes the sun!
All cats-
Skinnies and Fats-
Gather to our windows
As the bright
Fire light
Emerges from
Fuzzy blanket
Of darkness.
Oh but what bliss!
How it warms my tummy!
Purr purr,
Purr purr,
Ever so yummy!
You, Chariot
Of Great Cat Warrior
In the sky,
To you
Paws raise.
In your honor
We lie.


Bipolar Bear Vulture Woman

I Am Vulture

I am Vulture.
“Gawk! Gawk!”
Hear me gawk.
I prey on the fantasies of male souls who have but one thing in common:
And when I perch on the branches of a tall Mesquite shrub,
I do not look beyond the horizon.
I look down at the blushing shell of a man who once was secure,
A man who will not sleep tonight,
A man who will hate me because he cannot have me,
Because my mere flight makes him uneasy,
Because I am Vulture.
I’m not supposed to look this graceful
Flying circles around your head.

Bipolar Bear Vulture Woman
I am vulture.

The Ultimate Answer

How to get over a crush?
That is the question.
No, really, I’m asking.
This isn’t the answer; it’s the inquiry.

I know, I know, with all the problems in the world, not to mention what’s going on in our beloved Paris, how can I concentrate on this one little obstacle in my more or less irrelevant life…
Trust me, I can go on and on for hours about freedom of speech, tolerance and fanaticism, but in the end, what difference does it make?
It’s how you live that speaks the loudest.

So back to the question.
Oh yes, speaking of “the question,” I finished reading “The Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” this week.
In the stories, “42” is the answer the mice’s super computer gives as being the answer to life, the universe and everything in it.
The author Douglas Adams never quite clarifies what the question is.
So in my head I made a mock Jeopardy round where “42” is always the answer.

I now have a number of theories as to what the question is.
How many years should life last in order to feel satisfied?
(I found Marvin the robot to be the most relatable character.)
How many dimensions are there?
Which dimension are we in?
How many lives do we get in the video game of Life?
How many times do we need to pray for something before God hears us?
How many people can there be who look and act exactly like you?
How much should the most delicious burger in the universe cost?
How many cats can a person own before going completely crazy?
How many back up pencils do you need during a two-hour written test?
How many frames should you use in a 3-second animation?
How many bars of chocolate does a kid need to sell in order to win a decent prize?
How many times should you punch someone just for the heck of it?
How many minutes does good sex last?
How many years does it take to get over a crush?
How many soul mates does a person have?
How many times can a person get their heart broken before they are beyond all hope of recovery?
How many friends should you actually follow on Facebook?
Which is the best year of your life?


As I wrote this, my boss came in and gave me his point of view on the Paris tragedies and told me about No-Go zones in Minneapolis because Muslims pretty much self-govern there.
One of his family members has a permit to carry a concealed weapon in that neighborhood.
My boss is Adventist but I don’t know about his family.
Like I said, it’s how you live that speaks the loudest.

I’m still unclear as to the question but I venture to say Love is always the answer. Love and chocolate.


Today is the kind of day
That you kind of wish it was tomorrow.
Tomorrow bring what may,
Maybe worse than Today,
But Today would be well over.
No going back.
Rolled over by the
Bulldozer of Time.
Remnants of the slow painful hours
Crumpled to pieces,
By anyone that matters today
And who will probably matter tomorrow,
But maybe just maybe
Maybe just maybe
They won’t matter
At all
Because the key to surviving Today
Is Hope.

Despair not! The sun will always rise again, with or without you.