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Breaking Water.

2012-01-30T12:49:00.001-05:00

So I have been doing the whole college life thing. And I've decided to take a Creative Writing course-- As if I haven't already taken a few in my short lifetime... Anyway, our first assignment is to write about a short descriptive memory we have; in a poem format. If only you guys could guess mine!

A Memory

"Shit,"
Was the first thing to leave my lips.
Running
Was the next think I could think of.
514 in the morning and my pants were
Wet.
The cold fluid ran
Goosebumps
Down my legs.
The feeling made my cheeks so
Red,
And a part of me just wanted to be asleep.
There was a growl in my stomach,
Hunger in my chest and,
Confusion in my brain.
Questions followed shortly after
Panic.
And then Google.
And then a phone call;
A soft voice on the other line,
"Come on in!"

My nostrils filled with the smell of
Cold.
The smell of cold looked a lot like
Red and orange leaves whistling in the wind;
Bare trees.
White lines from where salt and
Ice and snow had melted on the
Cement.
Smoky air leaving my body with every
Breath.
Pink on noses and
Scarves on necks; it was
836 AM on a
Friday. Every
Six minutes the sensation to
Push.

Hunger escaped me. I was too
Anxious and
Excited and
Nervous and
Everything crazy to be
Tired.
Voices got quieter as
School bells rang and
Cars backed up in
Traffic drove off. Another
Six minutes floated by with a
Push.
The crumbling of footsteps from salt in the
New England morning,
Came closer; as did the
Hospital.

2012, Note To You.

2012-01-01T05:04:00.001-05:00

I'm always inspired at three in the morning, huh?

This morning, I woke up. I spent the day doing small tasks, lounging around, caring for a baby boy-- toddler, I should say, that has no idea how much he needs me. No idea how much I love him, what I do for him or how great he has it. He's brilliant. He's independent. To him, he has all he needs. Well, until he gets hungry and wants juice.

But I'm here and I listen when he talks, I hear his everything. I pick up his toys, I kiss his "Ouchies." I'm his superwoman and he is my Kryptonite. I would do anything for that little man. Even if all I am is his juice fix.

Lately, I have been thinking how we all are our own Superheros.

But ever notice how we're all somewhat masters of self-sabotage?

Well, I'm pretty darn good at it!

There something about my nerves that, when everything is going great and I am this sort of extremely happy, I push away. I find myself underserving and falling apart, picking at all the little things just because I want something to be wrong. I feel like when things are so wonderful and I’m extremely perfect here, right now, at this exact moment-- always-- that its not fair…. There are starving children, homeless families, bruised faces and lots of tears. I think why it is I deserve to be so happy. It’s just not fair. And this life is so very much unpredictable. And I am so vulnerable.

But its never fair.

It will never be fair. Nothing is perfect. We and what we are and want and will do and feel-- that’s perfect. This one second in our blessed lives with our huge eyes can see what perfection is. It’s not the stain on white pants, or the broken washing machine, or a day spent unproductively… those are the things we must accept. These things don’t change our happiness-- these things are just tests to show we’re human. The perfection is right now. And our abilities to change it. We can’t sit and dwell on all the little things. We can only hold on to our NOW. There are hard things, the things that cant be changed so simply; there will always be something. THAT something. That something that’s trying to hold you back. The ropes that tie you to commitments. Or the gravity that holds you to the ground. We being human have vulnerability in our genes, our DNA. Failure is bound. But failure is a blessing. To fail is to know that success is possible.

Stop! Stop the doubtful clouds in your brain and look. Look at this around you. Are you content? Are you happy? Those are questions you can only answer yourself. But to me you are beautiful. You are smart and strong and capable of everything. To me you can build buildings or walls; climb ladders or stairs. To me you are living and learning, and growing and accepting. You’re here and now. Go and prosper in life, love, wealth, happiness. I see light in each of you because you’re an amazing Superhero doing your little things rippling in the world.

With lots of love in my heart,
And a wish for everything you could dream,
Happy 2012!

Eureka!

2011-12-23T04:31:00.001-05:00

This is it! This is where I'm suppose to be; what I'm suppose to be doing; my calling-- my life. This is it.

Everything else can wait to fall into place. Because I know it will.

Have you, beautiful, had a pick-me-up lately?

Anecdote of Friendship.

2011-09-15T14:14:00.002-04:00

Paulina had known Steve for nearly her entire life. They had several different types of relationships. Paulina had several different types of personalities. She was a tree hugger, environmental activist at one point; a boy hungry, crazy teenager with a terrible attitude, rebel another time and to everything in between. She changed her moods more often then some change their underwear. With a life without much certainty, or stability, she met Steve. Steve was an easily likable man; funny, dependable, positive and strict. He was the epitome of 'certainty.' And he was perfectly what Paulina needed to fill the void she missed known as 'family,' let alone friend. They went from spending very little time together to moving in one spontaneous summer and never looked back. Steve listened to Paulina and her loss of place. He answered her pathetic questions. He gave her space when she needed it; let her make her own decisions, even though he knew they were wrong. And he never said "I told you so." ...well, he did. Every time.

Steve watched Paulina fly- and then sink. Steve heard her cry a lot of nights. He also, saw her more happy than most people in their lifetime. Paulina made enough stupid, irrational, naive, selfish decisions in her life; Steve saw and was present there all those times too.

When Paulina found out she was pregnant the entire world shut her off and down. She felt so alone in her heart. She didn't know who else to turn to. Sure, she had her family- but at that same time, no one was telling her what she wanted and needed to hear. Whom she loved, her boyfriend, had left her. Her girlfriends didn't understand. And no one ever knows what her mother is feeling. Again, in her short lived life, Paulina really was just too scared of being alone. Until Steve came. Slowly, things became right and clear. Steve talked her back into sanity, but made no decisions for her. He was her voice if reason. Steve is like the one person in her life that is constant. He tells it like it is, even when you don't want to hear it. But Steve will always be there. Sure, he may have some friendship flaws and get a little annoying, but he is so loyal. He knows the effort and phone works both ways in any relationship. He understands what needs to be said, when it is the right time to say them. Like "I told you so." He also gets the same gift every Father's Day and doesn't complain.

So what if Paulina is one of six. A dad's love is the best type of friendship anyone could have.

Oh, Elmo.

2011-08-31T04:18:00.000-04:00

James is now 18 months. That's a year and a half. And do you know what entertains a year and a half old?

Entertainment for Everyone:

Elmo. Elmo's song. Over and over. To grasp this concept-- play this on repeat.

Finding Nemo. At least three or four times a day. And those damn turtles are AWESOME.
Hiding in between the racks at the department stores.
Sitting in the driver's seat of your car and pretending to drive it.
Balls.
Balloons.
Anything that looks or reminds him of a ball or a balloon.
Controllers and remotes.
Emptying wallets. And taking all your credit cards and cash when you actually need them.
Swimming.
Playing fetch-- we don't have a dog.
Shoving your face with food.
Wrestling moves. Right now he's got spider monkey, choke-hold hugs down.

He is mastering the Banzai Drop and head butts.
Anything Lightning McQueen or Tow Mater. Cars is making the big $$$ off me.
Girls and flirting. He is such a flirt.
Turning the pages of every book he gets his hands on.
Strawberry milk and making him really hyper...
The happy song and jig.
If you shake your butt in his face & sing "Shake your booty! Shake, Shake!"
More cars.
Making strange and random noises with your mouth.
Dancing in the rain.

In short, I have never met someone like James --who loved everything; who has found entertainment in all like him.

Don't you wish we all had that love again?

Trees

2011-07-26T03:34:00.002-04:00

Some of us are "prettier" than others. Some more solid and sturdy. Some make better materials. There are more types versus others. It's harder removing ones than others. Some produce flowers and beautiful colors, while others continuously try to reproduce. Some age with perfect bumps and wrinkles, while others don't look as if they have aged at all.

Ever notice how similar to trees we are?

We have hair like leaves that fall depending on the right season. Skin as tough as bark, to keep our hearts in. We eat too much and have snakes and worms lurching underground. We all look the same, take a peek around. We need the sun to live but all we do it give.

Give up. Give in. Give air. Give things. Give and Take.

And we are so strong and firm in our up roots- our environment is what makes us or defines us. But it's all nature's path. We can become tall and touch the sky, because we each are all capable of so much. Or we can die and fall in the shadows of others; for every other's one's needs. We are everywhere. We should take in the world around us & try to expel love as oxygen. We live to breathe. We live to reduce, re-use. We live to grow. We live to better this place around us.

But we can also be broken down to make other things, or other versions of ourselves. We are so powerful, but also so disposable. We burn easily when forced on fire. We rot when little parasites and termites attack us. We can split during lightning storms.

Although at any point madness can strike-- we can always remain rooted. That stump part of us stays in this world, rooted to the very core of life. Like our souls.

We die. But we never truly leave.

Trees are really just like us.

Give & Take

2011-07-09T22:18:00.004-04:00

Notice how there is a man and a woman. Notice up and down, push and pull, happy and sad. Notice how there is a partner to each and every thing. Notice how we have night and day, then we have give and take.

Do you ever feel as if you are giving more than you are taking? Like the universe keeps pushing you down, expecting you to give it all you got, and trying, and living-- and nothing ever seems to go your way.. Then sometimes you feel as if the stars have aligned and you were dealt the best hand and play it for the win? How in this one perfect moment everything has stopped and frozen for your own happiness. This is when you take the life you were given and use it to your fullest advantage. This is the moment we wish we could live in forever, blissfully. But the universe never stays perfectly where you want it to be. That's when times like giving is necessary.

In early Igbo society of Western Africa, traditions believed that twins were evil. The practice of polygny was highly acceptable-- the more wives the better. The society was primary use to the idea of excess procreation: the more wives, the more kids, the more product from farming, the more wealth, the more success, the higher your name is popularized. This cycle was their cycle of idealism.

Anyway, when twins were born, the thought of the spirits giving you two babies instead of one was nearly the fault in the cycle of giving. Ibo culture had the assumption that the babies had to be malfunctioned; that one must be evil, infecting the other, therefore they must be sacrificed back in the flow of energy. The rightful return to the spirits. Ultimately, it was custom to leave the babies in this idea of the Evil Forest and indirectly euthanasia them.

This is giving. This is faith and trust, and the belief that it is the rightful thing to do. We must give and sacrifice to allow openings for us to take what we are and then can be offered. Although the Ibo culture is an extreme example of give and take, the thought is there..

"You only get what you give."

Sounds so simple, but it's amazing how much impact we hear from those six tiny words.

Nothing these days are simply for free. And many will argue this. You want kindness, you must be kind. You need assistance, you pay for it. You smile, the world smiles. Kindness and love aren't free. It saddens me to say, but I fear it's the truth. Kindness is limited for those who remain kind in their ways eventually fall lost in sometime. Psychologically the brain can only handle so much. This is why even the nicest, most happiest men commit suicide. Love is also not free. You may love and love and love someone, but when the confusion of love towards you is gone-- when there is no one to love you. The love fades. That feeling subsides, to eventually extinction. Hatred is for those who have not love. (Other than the cause and effect, it's a cycle of give and take. If you want to help someone, someone will in return, help you.)

Money is also a large part of giving and taking. You give your money to get something. And money gets you just about anything, these sad times...

But what I'm trying to convey is the ability to give. Give and give, so life can give to you. The cycle of take can't work without someone giving. And to have gratitude for what you have, because someone can take it from you as fast as it was given to you. Don't have guilt for all your blessings. Whatever was given to you will mean some will be taken, because you only get what you give.

T's

2011-06-27T03:45:00.000-04:00

So as I sit here in my underwear, listening to my random compilation of garbage music and feeling the guilt of this chocolate cake in the back of my thighs, I started thinking about all the work that goes into a relationship. The Baskstreet Boys may have gotten it right when it comes to "Quit Playing Games With My Heart" but to me it's more than that now. Love may have various meaning to each unique person, but I doubt some people can really love until they are carrying a ten pound baby with his eyes on you. This love is greater than anything I have ever felt before and I now I can say I know what true love is.

As the songs continue to play: Landslide, Danny's Song... it all hits me. Relationships are very similar to the lives we try and lead. There are promises we make to one another that seem as they derive from the promises we make to ourselves. "I promise myself I would never lie. I promise to love. I promise to feel and be honest. I promise to have happiness with all I have." Etc.

As I look at the rest of the chocolate cake I'm too disgusted to finish and listen to Adele scream out her lungs, I feel the warmth of what I do have. I have the love of friends and family. I have a job. I have the motivation to finish school and wake up each morning (even after I go to bed at four am). I have a TV I think is too big, a cellphone that I depend on too much and bills I don't have to pay. I have and I have gratitude.

But the simplicity of this doesn't mean I don't want. I want a career in a field I love. I want a home, a wedding, an iPad. I want, I won't lie to you. Wanting doesn't mean you're not happy with what you already have. Wanting means you have to look forward to something new, to try for tomorrow, to continue living. Wanting makes you wake up each day. If you're so entirely happy and content with everything you have and everything you don't have-- then it's safe to say you will die right then and there a happy man. But it's not true. You always have something worth wanting. Since the world isn't perfect and neither are we, no one has a perfect life or relationship, ever. No matter how people try and come across as perfectly happy and ultimately better than you. They are lying.

We fight. I tell him I hate him every now and then-- or at least once a day ;) but that's because he knows I love him. I say harsh words and can be so cruel-- but that's because I'm feeling hurt and pain. Because I'm taking in all so personally. I forgive. He forgets. We communicate. We express. Some days we barely talk to each other. Some days we have tickle fights. We disagree. We compromise. We cry and we laugh. We feel the ups-and-downs of this amazing ride just like all couples. No one couple is as happy or perfect as you think they are. Jealousy is an ugly beast. And we each need to take in, one day at a time.

Some fights may seem long, some days may fly by, but this life is short. Yet, this one life is a lifetime. The oxymoron of "short lifetime" seems ironic because its entirely what you make of it. Looking at the similarities of life and relationships. Positives and negatives. Ups-downs. "The word ‘happiness’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.” --Carl Jung

My understanding of the three T's in relationships leads to my understanding of the three T's our lives.

My T concepts:

Trust/Truth
This is the intangible. Trust the truth. Trust the world and your heart. Trust in yourself or your soul. Believe in what you want-- your opinions are your truth, however crazy or stupid they are, they are what make you. Trust what you feel and the emotions you have and your personality. Trust the decisions you make. Trust in good. In love. If you trust truthful love, you're opening yourself to receive love. Trust to give & trust you will receive. Clouded lies make clouded minds. Be open and wild-- let the world know with your freedom to feel. Allow yourself to feel everything.

96% of the happily married would say trust and truth is the key in any relationship. If you can't trust your thoughts and trust the love of yourself, as a whole, how can you expect others to trust you.

Similar keywords: Honesty, Believe, Idea, Opinion, Thoughts, Soul, Feel, Understand, Faith

Touch
This is the tangible of life and living, not only the materialistic. Most of you were given gifts. See the beauty of the never-ending ocean! Taste fresh sushi! Smell the bright and beautiful bouquets at Whole Foods or farmers markets! Hear the crappy music I love so much! And touch-- touch everything to feel. Hug. Love. Kiss. Even shake hands. There is a reason why scientifically you are covered in skin, and all those nerve endings! Be sensual and connected to the universe.

In relationships, if the sex and connection isn't compatible, then your personalities won't be either. Sex is a large part in any relationship-- other than security. It's healthy. It provides closeness, intimacy, a form of love. "There are many scientific studies that show that the act of being touched by another causes direct changes in body chemistry - increasing heart rate, vascular dilation, raising serotonin and even triggering the release of oxytocin and endorphins." It is innate in humans to want to touch and be touched.

Similar keywords: Taste, Smell, See, Hear, Feel, Senses, Live, Sex, Contact, Actual

Time
The number one abstract. Anthropologically speaking: time is only a human characteristic. An obsession. We obsess over time and lifetime-- make lists of all the things we have, want, do, etc. We obsess over our age and the ages we have left. We obsess over planning, timing, events, experiences. What to see and do because there is so much to see! So much to do and be and hear, and feel... We obsess over this concept & there is never any time to do it all. Never enough time. Time is so important to us that we can't just live. We're giving his one life to experience so much-- but there is so much! It's impossible to do it all-- sometimes we just need to live and breathe.

Time heals all wounds. Relationships need to be taken one minute at a time; one fight after another; one quickie after another. It's a process and a learning experience.

Dry your eyes & cry.

2011-05-29T04:32:00.000-04:00

If you don't cry to anything on this list (or even begin to tear-up), you are not human.

A baby being born.
....after all seventeen hours.
After witnessing something absolutely, indescribably beautiful.
A yawn-- because it's 414 in the morning and you can't sleep, even though you're exhausted.
At the love expressed in wedding vows.
...at the expense of a divorce you knew was going to happen.
When a bird shits on you-- because it HAD to be you in the crowd of millions.
If you're in physical pain.
If you're in emotional pain.
If you're meeting Justin Bieber.
Because you got a big fat F.
Because you didn't get a well-deserved F. ~~GO ME!~~
If someone you loved died.
If someone died.
While you're being waxed.
...after you've been waxed.
Because someone poked you in the eye.
Because someone punched you in the face.
While watching the notebook.
While imagining you're parents have sex.
If you couldn't have sex-- anymore.

I COULD NOT IMAGINE.

During an amazing song that fits your mood and life at that exact moment!
Because you're laughing SO hard.
Because of all the amazing times.
...and memories.
Because you feel like it.
And because someone screwed you over.
Because all the stars aligned.
When you're so sad, happy, hurt, stoned, heartbroken, silly.

This is all I got right now.

Cry. Just because it's so natural.

"Kid, you'll move mountains!"

2011-05-09T03:14:00.001-04:00

James has learned how to kiss and “bear” hug. So I woke up to baby kisses and drool, the smell of chocolate chip pancakes and a really, really cold bed.

The dishes are done. There is no laundry unfolded. I can see the living room floor. I had breakfast, lunch & dinner made for me. Flowers tickle my nose-- didn’t change one diaper! And the babies are both in bed. What a wonderful mother’s day. The second one was just as joyous as the first! And I wish you all had an amazing Mother’s day.

There is nothing left to be done (but school work). And reflection, of course.

Do you ever wonder where you would be if you chose a different path & things didn’t turn out exactly like you wanted or hoped they would have turned out?

I’m a full time student, part time cocktail waitress and I’m a mother. I’ve realized I’ve come so far from where I was.

I remember when I was sixteen-- without a care in the world, really. I was thoughtless, immature and wild. I had no idea where I was going; what I was doing; or what I wanted in my life. I was heading into a path of darkness. I think most, if not all, of the sixteen year olds I know are still finding their way through the abyss and the muck. Other than the lack of empowered teens and the carelessness, I ultimately had nothing to live for.

Don’t get me wrong-- I had dreams and goals. I had an entire plan of the life I thought I wanted. Or the life everyone around me wanted me to have. I thought that when life started to work the way I had planned it, everything would simply fall into place. College, career, marriage, kids-- living through the motions. I was an idealist. I was so hopelessly ignorant in my youth. All little girls want to believe they are princesses & will live happily ever after…

Things never work out the way you want, thought, hoped it would. That is half the fun of living, I assume.

I look back at the selfishness and unawareness. I look back at all the mistakes. I look back at all the pain, laughter, love, kisses, punches, tears.. I look back and I feel right. Those emotions and mistakes-- those are all my accomplishments. Those thoughts and dreams; events and people that shaped me-- these are my livelihood. I overcame. I can embrace all those things and everything I was and wanted to be to turn them all to what I am and continue to try and be. We never stop growing or learning. Or living.

I never thought I would have seen the places I have seen and done the things I did. At one point in my life, I never thought I would make it to twenty-one. I was so sick. I turned on the road to nowhere and I was stuck-- there was no where for me to go. I wasn’t being the best person I could be. I was just being.

You can’t move anywhere toward the life you want if you’re not moving at all.

We should be teaching our youth to be doing the same. We need to show love and confidence. And especially be living as models in that same direction. We need to invest and inspire the same kids that hold our futures. I was once in the wave of selfishness, arrogance and hatred (for lack of a better word). I have been swinging up and down-- I have good days and bad days. I’m not trying to change the world; I’m just trying to help it. I’m trying to help you be the best person you could be. I know there will always be jealousy, pain, hatred… but I know some of us need to be stronger than others. There is always a better outlook on life than you think! The life you want isn’t going to work itself out-- it takes hard work, good reasoning, “accomplishments.” And the rest of the way for you to enjoy!

I had the most beautiful accident & I fell in love. I continue to fall in love with every second I live.

Five words to say: “I love this given life.” Four reason I live, three people: Mark, James and me. Two pink lines shifted the gears. One big-tiny accident, wrapped in blue opened my eyes and changed my life.

"You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know.
And you are the guy who’ll decide where to go."
-- Oh! The Places You'll Go! Dr. Seuss

Quick Thought.

2011-04-22T12:14:00.000-04:00

Days have been getting longer, but my time has been lost. I’ve picked up a part time job serving cocktails and flirting with boys, and girls and everyone. I have been working on what seems like the longest semester of my short extended education. And James is getting so big and grown up-- I think back to his small, little limpy fingers and neck. He’s getting so independent, and spoiled, nonetheless. My life has been consisting of the most mundane and exhausting routine and it’s still too chilly to wear my bright and beautiful sundresses. I have no time to “hit the gym” and of course, I don’t even have to mention: I’m exhausted.

Mark and I have been talking about marriage. We’ve been talking about our future plans, buying a house, settling careers, having more children… etc. etc. etc.

I’m glad we’re talking. I’m glad we’re somewhat on the same page and that we’re motioning towards a nest. We have a young, little man, we have to look out for. Settle down for. Live and breathe for. My small soldier.

But we have also been fighting. I’ve never seemed to doubt this as much as I have lately. Am I too young to be talking and settling down? Am I financially-- emotionally stable enough to handle our life, now?

I wish I knew a guarantee, a fortune teller-- someone who had all the answers, someone to tell me the entire story and what is meant to play out. I’m so sick of the vulnerability. So sick of the hurt and the disappointment. I don’t want to fall. I’m just so darn scared to fall.

What do you do when your life is moving too fast for your own good? What is left to say when you’re terrified?

I’ve told you, I don’t need to see the world to be happy. I don’t need to be alone, to find myself. I don’t need answers to understand my life purpose. I am extremely grateful and happy to be apart of something with indescribable meaning.

Be good, Be good to yourself.

2011-04-11T13:06:00.002-04:00

“For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone.”
--Audrey Hepburn

There has been the recent action over the effects of bullying.

I’m not against it. But I feel it is hard to truly change something when the progression of technology is continuous. The internet has ultimately changed the world. If someone feels something, does something, thinks something-- it’s posted online somewhere. Etched in stone. Lost in the 101100100’s.

The recent vblog racist: Alexandra Wallace, knows all about that one. She posted:

Which consisted of her bashing just about all Asians, especially at UCLA, where she attends, and their supposed “American” phone manners. Saying things like, “So, being the polite American girl my mother raised me to be…” or “In America, use American manners!”

Anyway, there were a lot of offending things she said; (and I understand she was venting, and raving on-- that in reality she might not be entirely racist… if even at all-- but it was plain stupid to think she wasn’t going to offend anyone. Putting, “No offense” before anything doesn’t mean it’s not going to be offensive. Moving on,) she has just about ruined her life. Millions, upon millions have probably seen that video. Millions of responses have been posted. And like I have said many, many times before: you tube is making everyone famous. Well, in one way or another. And my (step)dad and I were talking about this-- she has nearly ruined her life. Future employers, future children, other relatives, professors, her parents… have all probably seen this video. She has withdrew (I’m pretty confident) from UCLA and has received death threats. DEATH. THREATS.

That is crazy.

This is crazy.

I am concerned for her, truly. And I think people should most definitely lay off her case. Because point blank, she was an idiot for A) putting that in public and B) Putting that online. But to be receiving death threats for being a slight racist? That is extreme. Racism isn’t dead-- I highly doubt it ever will be (until all our races start mixing and everyone is basically a mutt, years and centuries from now). Also, it was her blunt opinion. I did not agree and I may have been slightly offended (and I’m a God damn American, California born, Massachusetts native) but tell me when it was okay to send someone a death wish. Pushing her until she breaks isn’t going to change her. It is not going to end racism; cure natural disasters; or feed the world’s starving millions… another person’s suicide, let alone death, doesn’t change the world. As terrible as that sounds. I’m sure people will cry and people will grieve, but how is that going to make you feel? Pretty dang stupid.

I think that is the thinking process in bullies.

They want to push you and break you and hurt. They don’t see your life. They hardly know you. And it’s hard to be a teenager, in a life of digital hierarchy. It’s like the first one to a computer wins. He said this. She’s a whore. She said that. What a skeezbag. It’s never ending. It’s life daunting.

I hardly remember it being that bad when I was growing up. When I was eight I had glue poured in my hair. In middle school, you get called a nerd, fat or a loser and that was the content of the worst. Chapters unfolded and it turned into “whore” or “easy.” The big and nasty words bloomed… conveniently also, right near the time of technology. And that was when private numbers start calling you with pranks. Granted, I still get private, prank calls. Awesome, right? Real mature, huh? Or there are websites devoted to your stupidity or insecurities… and bullies attack. Those people know your pain and fill that void with unjustifiable hatred. People who don’t know you, hate you. People you have never met, believe you’re a dirty skank. People call you a “cunt,” and sometimes, it really does hurt.

I was called a cunt. And I won’t go into extreme details, because I honestly don’t even really have the answers. Clearly, I did something incredibly wrong in high school. Clearly, I have some experience in this theory that everyone thinks they are God behind a computer screen. Everyone has an opinion. Everyone has a right. But I don’t know what could have caused that much hatred in someone. I didn’t kill anyone. I never physically hurt anyone. I didn’t have a million friends. And I wasn’t a Queen Bee Bitch. I was no “hater.” If anything, I was more a lover. Too much of a lover. But not THAT much of a lover. Oh, I don’t even know, anymore.

People will just hate you. People will push you, hoping you break and fall. I don’t know why some people would rather dwell in the past and mistakes in another’s life. I don’t know what could make someone be so mean. I’ve been hearing so much to change bullying, cyber bullying, suicide prevention, etc. I think they are all master plans! I don’t know how we will ever stop bullying but to be better human beings. “There's only one corner of the universe you can be certain of improving, and that's your own self.” -- Aldous Huxley

I think what a part of our society lacks, however, is the empowerment of ourselves. We try so hard to not want more and more; to not be envious and defensive. We try hard to satisfy ourselves-- and to not come across as selfish or cruel and rude. We think ourselves to be higher than we actually are in some cases. It is hard to overcome the chaos and madness of everyday life. People can be so cruel sometimes-- but it’s in our lives that we learn to better the lives of others with only kind words, thoughts that won’t offend other people, we fight the hatred with love. We empower our young (and everyone else) to learn and teach love. Bullying will be cured when bullies learn they aren’t effecting you. Some people will love you, some will hurt you, some will hate you for no reason at all. We all have to learn that we can’t appease everyone, we can’t physically change anyone’s mind.

Learn and teach love. Love yourself, empower yourself. Want happiness for everyone.

As always, I wish you the best.

"I hope this life becomes all that you wanted to."

Baby Talk!

2011-03-28T18:11:00.001-04:00

If James and I could just have one conversation-- maybe some of these will pop up:

Kicking babies at eight months pregnant was strange and exciting. Waking up to kicking one year olds? …The cuteness kind of wears off.

I don’t know what you expect to find with your finger in my nose.

I’m sorry that cute bunny has an evil laugh. I’m even more sorry that I can’t help but giggle when you grip me in fear and tears.

Sweetheart, my eyeballs don’t disappear when I close my lids-- they just need a minute. Or two. Or three. ~~Maybe just an hour.~~

Who in the world taught you to make a fart-face?

I like finger foods. But not fingers in my mouth.

Oh, baby of mine, you do not run any faster when your shoulders are shifted back.

Nothing in the world beats a great big, snuggle bear hug from little arms… even if they know they’re in trouble.

Do you really need to push buttons on everything? The police are actually going to think something is wrong!

Who invented children’s toys? The neon colors, baby music and indestructible material isn’t fooling anyone. Especially them.

I thought two baths a day would suffice. Nope.

Stop staring at my vagina!

Date and dance nights will work to your advantage, I swear. But you have to start dancing without me carrying you all the time.

Mommy’s sorry she should have started you on whole milk before she started giving you juice. Please just continue enjoying your steamed broccoli.

When will you learn? The vacuum scares you-- so why do you continue to turn it on and run to me crying?

I’m not laughing because it’s fun, I’m laughing because it tickles. So stop rubbing my nipples.

Does that big head of yours feel anything? We’re putting ice on that “ouchie,” even if you’re not crying.

Handsome, you’re scaring all the pretty little girls when you try touching-up their faces.

I know it’s awfully fun now, but in a couple more years it won’t be acceptable to play ‘bouncing on mommy.’

I must confess: even though I gave you a spoon, it doesn’t mean you’re feeding yourself… because mommy has a spoon. And she needs to make sure that food is going into your mouth and not everywhere else! Seriously, how is mac&cheese seven feet high, on the wall right now?

Mommy knows what you want and what is best for you, so stop pointing your finger, yelling at mommy, little mister. No one knows what you’re saying! Give it another 20 years.

It’s good to know mommy doesn’t need to teach you “stranger-danger” -- you got that down, already!

How do you sweat this much?!

Seriously, do you and daddy just plan to consume the bed behind my back?

This is my famous baby!! Taken from the Boston Globe or Boston.com

Bodily Symptoms.

2011-03-25T01:37:00.000-04:00

To my longest known relationship; my closest lover, furthest hater; ultimate frienemy; to my shrine or temple; to my perfectly-flawed, body.

I love the color of your hair, and how it falls perfectly into place. But I hate the color of your hair and the days it doesn’t stay the right way. I love how evenly tan-tinted you are. But I hate that you still get the occasional zit. I love when your wearing the right fitted top and how your boobies look like diamonds. But I hate how uneven you, twins are. I love how short you are, but hate how short your lashes are. I love your tiny feet, your large hands, white teeth and your seemingly proportioned self. But I hate your muffin top, thunder thighs and your even stumpier legs.

As the weather starts becoming more enticing and warm and as the shops start to display double zero-sized mannequins, in fresh new bathing suits-- I seem to notice myself dreading my favorite time of the year.

The amazing glow of skin. The sand in your hair. The cool breeze against the sweat, against your forehead. The longest days of the year and the shortest nights involving beer. The windows-down-radio-up-shoes-off kind of lifestyle. The sunglasses etching shadows along your eyes. The smell of bbq and the taste of lemons. The farmer’s markets, block parties, laughter and midnight dancing… yeah, I’m talking about summertime. Summertime in Boston. The flip flops, lemonade & the boys-without-shirts-girls-wearing-skirts; late nights & the beach wearing bathing suits.

Oh, god. Bathing suits.

This is my problem, it’s already the end of March and I’m still terrified to see myself naked. Shocked. Like is that really me? …damnn.

And not “damn” in the good way, either.

It’s been 421 days since I had James. And I’m not using this as an excuse, but I had a baby(!) 421 days ago. I have been out of the routinely exercise field for even longer than that. During my pregnancy, I had this outlandish fear something terrible might happen; I took extreme precaution in everything I did to ensure the health of James. (I was just so scared of being a living tomb.) But nowadays, it’s so hard to maintain the energy and spirit for designated exercise time… I don’t know how you crazy workout addicts maintain the energy!

I’d like to think I have some good genes. My mother just turned 46, with four kids, and she’s a solid 120-something pounds. I still have stretch marks! I only had one child! I’m younger, should have a higher metabolism, more energy and should really try quitting complaining. Side note: I realized it’s really no fun to complain if no one is listening ;) Last Sunday, I played in a volleyball tournament. I was sore for nearly three days after!

Is it so bad to want to just have my old self again? Primarily without all the hard work? And with the added flexibility ;) No surgery needed. Is it too much to ask for a couple more hours of sleep and/or NOT feeling like I’m an 94 year-old man when waking up?

Love and Marriage, Commitment & Nonsense

2011-03-17T01:43:00.001-04:00

I’m a mush ..I’m a mush on vacation. On vacation, watching television and relaxing. While watching television and relaxing-- I fell into watching Marry Me. Marry Me, a lifetime movie. Yes, lifetime and don’t laugh! But Lucy Liu is extremely exquisite. And this Marry Me is a beautifully written fairy tale. And as always Lucy Liu is gorgeous.

But you notice how most fairy tales involve a very wealthy man? There are also the stunning excessively formal dresses and world traveling and of course-- LOADS of shopping. Sometimes, even castles! Now, other than the Queen, are there actual people who realistically own castles? I doubt it. There also seems to be the constant talk of princesses and princes over a perfectly built wooden mantle, with fire. And lots of wine. And you can bet your ass it’s not the cheap stuff I buy at Trader Joe’s.

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about marriage… and weddings.

Mark and I are expected at a wedding in July and I can’t wait! I love weddings-- who doesn‘t, though? Drinks, music, laughter, love and fooooood. The ceremonies are always unique-in the best way, joyous-but not to the point of puking and happy. So happy. The bride and groom make their rounds, looking unbelievably stunning and you can’t help but feel blessed to be a part of their day; to have witnessed the commitment two souls have tied together. You can’t help but be fixated on the glimpses of true love with the glimpses of newly-weds. The DJ plays their first dance as Mr. and Mrs. The first kiss. And the second. And the third.

I’m such a sucker.

~~Edited:~~ But I use to write only love stories. I had so much inspiration to write about this emotion that consumed me as a whole and made me feel like I was invincible.

I don’t have the hopeless inspiration like I did when I was sixteen.

I hate to sound like a pessimist and I don’t mean to bring you down. I don’t want to sound old and lonely, like I’m way past my prime and that I’m not in love. Because I am. I am so in love.

But sometimes life gets in the way.

The love I know now is more than just a feeling. I’m not over-the-moon, butterfly filled hopeless and romantic like I was when I was younger. Simple as that- I grew up. I don’t want to believe in a fairy tale, as if, it’s going to happen without my knowledge, because that is where the young girls get it wrong. When you’re young, you think the right man is going to come along and sweep you off your feet; that the right man is going to love you through everything; or that you’ll always be THAT much in love. No one told me that was a lie. People fall out of love just as much as they fell into it. People fight and people cry- people move on. People work really hard to be happy, in and out of relationships. 41% of first marriages fail, ending in divorce. They fail to mention that age, family and education are some underlying factors as to why.

Walt Disney is an asshole.

He made all the little girls believe there is a Prince Charming. He made all little boys believe they had to be a Prince Charming to get the girl. He never told the little boys that most girls fall for the asshole, or the “bad boy.” He never told the girls that chivalry is nearly dead, if not for Hallmark companies and made-up holidays. He makes fantasies and dreams-- but have you ever noticed that it’s always “happier ever after.” There is no part 2. There is no sequel. No real life depicted, and it’s hard to maintain that amount of love or faithfulness in marriages of forty years.

People get comfortable. Life gets in the way and I’m not saying love fades, but it does transform into a love that you learn to appreciate and see differently.

Like someone wiping the snow off your car and shoveling you out before you wake up, so you don’t have to do it. The kisses on the forehead before he goes to work, and he doesn’t even know you’re awake. The I’ll-put-the-seat-down-always kind of love. Like that someone who will hang up all your laundry before you get home or the beers-out, hang-out, kind of best friend love. The kind of love like watching television shows you hate just for her or waiting around for hours because she hasn’t decided on the right color candles. The epitome of best friends, partners, lovers, parents-- the simplicity of cooking dinner and dancing around with a one year-old, in on a Saturday night-- kind of love.

I’m not saying marriages in the diamond age are non-existent, I know many marriages that have overcome obstacles and decades, comfortably and simplicity. I know high school sweethearts, real-life love stories and relationships with great measure. But those are in the minority. I’m amazed and lightened to be witness to stories of that much powerful feeling.

“Falling in love isn’t the problem; staying in love- that’s the problem.” -- A line in Marry Me.

I just don’t think that life is a fairy tale. It’s just plain unrealistic for you to not get bored, not feel like your settling or drowning sometimes-- not like you’re stuck. Life and love are fighting for priority. And it’s hard. It’s hard to know what’s going to happen tomorrow. It’s hard to know where your partner is; they could wake up tomorrow and realized they don’t want to be with you. It’s hard to grasp onto something you can’t even touch. It’s hard for some to realize the vulnerabilities, responsibilities and all the other capabilities. The heart can only take so much. No matter how much you’re hurting, the world goes on. No matter where you are, people are always moving.

I think you need to understand and ultimately know love, and all it’s different forms, to feel it truly. I think marriage is a massive commitment, tying your soul to another. And people take it for granted. All those sayings: “hate is a strong word, but you throw love around like it’s nothing” or “love, many people use your name in vain…”

You need to realize love is an emotion, too. Love is everything and all different things. There should be no judgment to whether or not you feel it, or whether someone else feels it. Just don’t go confusing marriage, commitment and love.

I just want a happily ever after. I want to be in love for more than forever.

Rest in Peace

2011-02-18T11:55:00.000-05:00

I went to a wake a few days ago; even though I have always promised myself I would never go to another wake or funeral since my grandpa died, years ago. Since then I went to a best friend’s wake when I was around 16.

No, I don’t really have anything ~~funny~~ to say about that, but the simple fact that: I hate wakes. I hate funerals and I hate the concept of death.

There I was just standing there, fiddling my thumbs and lost in the masses of people—you can imagine how uncomfortable I was. The smell of funeral home pervaded me and everyone seemed to be crying.

I hate crying.

I looked around me, not wanting to do or say much of anything to anyone. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to get myself the hell out of there. I didn’t have any idea what to do or say to anything or anyone. And I looked at the coffin. I was just so stuck—like I was rooted in my seat and sure as day that she was just going to wake up. Like I was waiting for her get up and smile at everyone like it was a joke.

I get it, death is just inevitable and a part of life. But I didn’t (and still don’t want to) believe it. It simply never gets easier. People die. Lots of people die. But I just can’t imagine it being my Nanny up there. Or my dad. Or a sister. I just don’t think I could be capable of seeing my own mother up there. I still can’t even imagine it—my family dying.

I’ve always thought that I would under live my parents. I never saw myself making it past the age of 21. I never saw myself giving birth. But here I am and I’ve done those things. I’ve done things I never imagined myself doing or being. And when I die—hopefully decades and decades away from this moment, I don’t want a wake. I don’t want a song and I don’t want a funeral. I don’t want you to cry. I just want life to go on, like it always does and ultimately to just be grateful I lived. Let’s all just be grateful the people around us are still here. Let’s have gratitude we’re alive. <3

The Last Year of My Life

2011-02-13T02:39:00.001-05:00

As you all know, I have always been on the path to self-discovery. I will always find myself looking for answers and reasons, because it's who I am. I understand within me thrives the curiousity to understand what makes each of us who we are and why we do the things we do. I have and am continuing to study us human beings; anthropology, sociology, philosophy and psychology-- I believe faith is different between every single soul and person. I believe we each take it for whatever it is we want it to be. I believe we each hold the fate of our lives in the choices we make. There may be a reason; there may be inner peace and some people may think they have the key to eternal bliss and prosperity-- but why can't we just take life for what it is?

A beautiful gift. Life is a dream of decades, a beating, bloody heart and an unconditional love, an indescribable feeling, a longing freedom. Life is whatever you want it to be using all the nouns, adjectives and words-- you pick and choose.

I have changed by realizing my life is just what it is-- mine. I have made mistakes and I have accepted them. I refuse to tell anyone how to live their own lives. (I have, however, some pretty dang humorous things to say!) My experiences are just that-- mine. And I will continue to hold them in my heart. I hope your life and your experience will be yours. I hope and I pray you can be happy with who you are. And the choices or decisions you are making everyday.

"What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday, and our present thoughts build our life of tomorrow: Our life is the creation of our mind." -- Buddha

In the year 2010, life happened to me. In the action of giving birth, I too, was born again. (Not in any religious reason, or virginity-wise.) I have confessions. And I have list some in my own acceptance.

Six Months

Full-term

I am extremely proud of who I am. When I was younger, I wasn't. I was insecure and lost and I didn't eat. I'm not one to hide or try to hide anything-- it took me longer to gain weight while I was pregnant. Some may try and use my mistakes against me. "I don't judge you, I feel bad for you that you struggled with an eating disorder, and with telling the truth... I guess Mark wasn't lying. But then, why would he? He was the one who wrote to me in May saying he missed me and wanted to be back with me, sending me a mix cd full of love songs.... hm." But you will find some people will hate you for mistakes and experiences you have made. Some people will hate you for no reason at all.

One Minute Old


One Day Old

When I was seventeen, I had a one-night stand. It was a mistake and it wasn't meant to happen. It hasn't changed my life in any way, but I know I don't want to be that and all its notoriety. I can't really explain my actions. I'm sorry-- because I know I'm better than that. I'm better than just sex. People simply have sex, I'm not going to be one of those people. I want love and I want sex.

Balloon Birthday

One Year

I can't change. I have so many flaws and insecurities. And I'm not proud, let alone happy with all of them... but I am very aware I have them. I can't always explain my actions or reasonings for why I do what I do, think what I think and feel what I feel-- I don't think any one person can fully comprehend the human mind (no matter how hard I try). We all have different thoughts, experiences, feelings and knit-work. We all have mistakes, desires and fears. Let it be known: I can confess every single thing that has effected my life that I may consider a mistake. But all of them are unique, amazing and learned. James may be considered a mistake, an accident, an unplanned pregnancy.

But he is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Things I will never understand:

2011-02-05T04:47:00.002-05:00

1. Skunk colored hair colors. No, I don’t think it’s attractive and no, I don’t understand why you would want to look like Rogue.

2. Why people are hatinn’ on Justin Bieber?

Sure he has a prepubescent voice and annoyingly catchy song lyrics that don’t really make any sense or any lyrics I could possibly relate to and a hair cut worth more than I make in a year-- forget the fact that I’m unemployed, but why pick on the kid?

He is smart. Really, really, incredibly smart.

With the spark of talent he has, he learned to ignite it into a full out fire-- sure, thanks to plenty of song writers and producers and I don’t even know how Usher is all related in this spider web… “Bieber Fever, Baby!” Just like the Olsen twins, he has learned to monopolize the children and open up a career to fame by being THAT smart. I’m sure there was lots of hard work and lots of investments. But really?

Youtube is making everyone famous.

Let him just be who he is and do what he’s doing.

3. 3D.

Everywhere you turn there is 3D. When did all the movies become 3D? Can you remember the last regular ol’ 2D movie out? Why would I want a 3D TV? I don’t understand what the heck was wrong with 2D? …it is taking over the world.

4. Why GuRlZz (and sometimes, guys) wR1t3 Liiiik3 tH3y @r3 $To0o0oP1d.

5. Feminists.

A wise man once told me his concept of feminism:

Situation One
Man: Here let me get that door for you.
Woman: I can do it myself. I don’t need you getting the door, I’m highly capable of opening my own door, thank you.

Situation Two
Man: (Walk right through the door.)
Woman: Really? Really? You couldn’t get the door, asshole?

Ultimately it’s a lose-lose situation.

6. Polygamy.

Let’s not kid ourselves.

7. Ex-girlfriends. Crazy. Psycho. Completely artificial soul. I mean, souls.

8. Ex-boyfriends. Please don’t tell me you love me.

And no, I’m not referencing you D.

“Excuses are like butt holes, everyone has one.”

2011-01-31T12:50:00.002-05:00

I am an American. I can be selfish and arrogant, ignorant and liberal. I speak English and I hate being asked to press one for Spanish. I spend too much money on “junk” food (or stupid things in general) and weight more than I wish I did. I have a gym membership I take for granted, spend too much time watching TV and fall under the hype for celebrity gossip. And I love the internet like air.

I have come to the conclusion I am not the only one!

I have been ashamed of the decisions I make on the day-to-day-- and being a blogger, of course, I have decided to conclude some in a list-- this list displays excuses some of us, if not all of us, make and are way too tired of making:

1. The gym. The workout. Yoga and Pilates.

I have been dying to get to the gym since I had James. But honestly and irrevocably-- I lie. I have been so tired and just so damn lazy to even make an effort. I have made up excuses to the point of no return and here I am. I am at the point where I don’t even bother making excuses anymore. I have to come to terms with the lies I am telling myself. And just do, just go. I am (and you are, too) going to the gym today.

This might be a little premature, but-- “Go me! Go you!”

2. “I’m late, I don’t really have the time to take the stairs and I’m wearing heels!”

Stop. Stop right there. It is a proven fact that you lose three times the calories walking up and down the stairs. Basically, if I can take the stairs, you can take the stairs.

3. Quit smoking. Quit toxins.

Americans are way to lazy and in a sense, weak, to quit smoking, they say they will, they make new year resolutions, and it all turns out BUST.

So try, try, and try again. It will get to the point of do. You can and you are strong enough to quit. You are strong enough to do anything you set your mind to, no matter how impossible and cliché, it sounds.

4. Most Americans have this sensation to eat. Eat when your hungry, eat when your bored, eat because it’s directly in front of you. Americans are infamous for eating. Obesity is on the high, in the majority and this is not okay-- YOU ARE NOT HUNGRY. With fast food joints over-populating people in areas, we must maintain a strong and balanced head. Food is your friend, food is your health-- your body is a shrine, be good to it. And it will be good to you.

5. Recycle.

I’m not trying to convert you into peace-searching-hippie-loving-earth-kissing nudists, but really? My motto (well, one of them) is why mess with something not broken? The plastic bottle you’re using is a high functioning, working material-- why not, recycle?

6. Putting yourself out there.

“I’m shy. It’s winter and too cold to go out. I can’t afford it.”

Those are all excuses. The world is a playground and you are merely a piece in someone’s puzzle. As I have learned from Mother of Many: the difference you make in a second, in someone’s day-- in someone’s life. You have the ability to change that. You have the ability to love and show love and change a life just by a smile. Remember that.

Remember that no matter who you are, there is the chance someone will love you or someone will hate you. Remember you can’t change the minds of everyone. Remember that life fucking moves on no matter where you are in the world and no matter what you’re going through. “Tomorrow is another day.” …I always love saying: “Tomorrow is another day, so go to sleep and you’ll get there faster.”

You can’t fall in love by yourself. You can’t meet someone sitting on the couch. You are a beautiful, unique person. You are worthy of love and being in love. So put yourself out there!

7. Dwelling.

Human beings are constantly dwelling on/in the past. The woulda, coulda, shouda.

Get over it!

I fall victim to this on the hourly and even I have to remind myself about the now. The past is over, gone. Stop beating yourself up about it. And I will, too.

“Excuses are like cakes, everyone wants a piece, but not everyone needs a piece.”

That's why they call it the "Present"

2011-01-25T13:37:00.002-05:00

After a long falling out, for reasons of the unknown, I recently began talking with a former boyfriend. (No, not the ex. But the ex-ex.)

The make-you-feel-like-you’re-high-and-flying-through-the-sky ex. The ex-boyfriend that made everything bad or hurtful or just plain stupid go away. The boyfriend I said I loved more than anything. Yeah, that former.

It was somewhere around five years ago when I met him in some dazed, little love story.

I was young. I was wild and free. I was naïve and in love. My heart loved and felt to the maximum capacity of my being. Nothing else really seemed to matter when you’re sixteen. You know when you’re that young how issues of the world seem so little or unimportant. Everything in your day-to-day life matters as if the world is going to end if your hair doesn‘t fall perfectly or if your crush doesn‘t ask you to the prom-- dances and parties, boys and high school… like there was nothing else to the next 60 years of your life.

While talking to him, texting rather, I was realizing that he had changed. He was telling me about his life and working. He seemed to be more responsible than I could have ever imagined years ago. He didn’t seem like the free spirit I made him out to be. And he wasn’t getting the humor I have so recently acquired. It wasn’t like the useless-all night long-take a look into my soul-kind of talk or the oh, so popular AIM messaging until three AM, years prior. Yes, it was catching up and yes, it was mainly small talk; “How is your family? And school?” “Are you working?”

But it still wasn’t the same.

I began realizing we weren’t the same innocent lovers with the same butterflies and the no-care in the world attitude.

It was ironic how before we began talking I was missing the old spontaneous and free me. How I was thinking ‘I’m “sacrificing” my crazy and wild years for a life I still don’t know I’m completely prepared for.’ I was thinking and missing that old life and that old person. But the ironic part of all this was the fives years. How short the time was for me to feel like a completely new and different person with a entirely new heart. And a beautifully new boyfriend that gives me the world. How five years sounds like an absurdly short amount of time and a life can change so drastically. People and hearts live and strive-- for the time moves on regardless of your life.

I started thinking: I don’t ever want to be that person again.

I was an insecure, impatient and foolish child. I was selfish and didn’t understand the beauty of life and family. I fed on jealousy and ate nothing. I was immature and stubborn. I didn’t truly understand love… In those five years, everything I thought I knew shifted. Since then, I have loved and loved again. I have had a falling out and a reunion with my family and was blessed with my own. I have continued my path of education. I understand the difference in a friend and a character. I have moved and moved and then moved again. I know a love like a love no other and I live and grow and continue to live and grow.

I know that no matter where I have been, I’m glad I was there. I have never been happier, than now. I’ve never been more confident in who I am, than now.

Remember:
“It's never too late to be who you might have been.” --George Eliot

Sex with a one year old

2011-01-13T10:05:00.002-05:00

It’s been hard.

Well, no, not literally. But when your day-to-day is spent chasing around your little rugrat, cleaning up messes you didn’t make and trying to get just one more minute of shuteye or how your romantic nights are spent finally eating dinner together or falling asleep, head to shoulder, on the couch-- well, you start to get a little more than frustrated.

It seems every time the mood ignites and the flames start to roar-- clothes are flying, tongues exchanging… a whine is whispered. Soon the whine becomes a cry. And then the cry becomes a scream-- and damn it! now you have to go into that little boy’s bed because it’s three in the morning. You grab him; and rock him to relax; get him to go to sleep… and then next thing you know-- it’s eight am.

Sex. Gone. Lost with the snoring. Left with the time.

Then you begin to lust after it! ‘Oh, let’s in the shower…’ wink wink! Soon after you’re stumbling into the bathroom; bruising your shins; realizing the water is hotter than you anticipated; tip-toeing over squirty, squeaky bath toys and you realize: this is ridiculous. It’s just never going to happen!

Really? Seriously? Am I on some candid-porno television show?

I love sex, I do. But hell, these days, I’m a slut for sleep.

Just think: sex is fun, playful and brilliantly romantic, all together. And all that excitement is great, but as soon as that climax is over and those two minutes of pure emotion and bliss start to subside… well, all I really want is my body sprawled out, head on pillow, eyes glued tight and my brain in shut down mode. Sleep, to me, is another form of purity; all about relaxing and recharging, peace and calm. Doesn’t that sound refreshing?

The answer is yes.

These two are very much similar; both bring me happiness and pleasure; both are highly necessary for survival. These days it’s not easy to get clothes off, sex on. Being the glue in the family takes time, energy and work. You’re tired. You’re not feeling sexy. You don’t have the time… There is always an excuse! Forget them for twenty minutes and get it on.

And so, I have created a short play-by-play on
SEX, SLEEP and SURVIVAL--

Nap time is now called “Mommy-Daddy” time.

Quit all-nighters. They are always a bad idea.

Don’t let the carrot/green beans in your hair or the sweatpants your wearing stop your sexiness level. Putting on that sexy-flirty, matching panty set and a special splash of perfume in the morning sure set the mood.

If you’re even shorter on the time, I hate to say it but forget the fore play! Do some quick kissing, some quick rubbing-- men are easy. It’s also not fair, they get porn.

If it has been a while and you have been suffering, wake up a tidbit earlier and right before you send that hub off to work-- get a little action by making some moves.

Car action is not bad action… but don’t get caught!

There is a reason for ‘five hour energy.’

And coffee.

Buy a vibrator.

Have a pretend affair. Everything is quick, hush-hush and extremely exciting.

Hire a babysitter.

Plan a sleepover or offer a night with the grandparents… God willing.

If you’re more creative putting sex in between your schedule or giving sex more time in your life, it will be a major success! Just don’t let the excess sexual activity interfere with your sleep mode and I think you’re good.

Someone Teach Me How to Dougie!

2011-01-12T04:21:00.004-05:00

This is embarrassing. I am embarrassing.

I am a twenty-one year old, mother-- but does that excuse my coolness factor? Have I lost my ability to be hip? I fear I’ve fallen into the embarrassing momma-drama.

First off: I’m 21. TWENTY-ONE! But I am so culturally slow and lost with the flow-- it’s making me feel like an old hag, cat woman, hermit. It took me months to figure out what “IDK” stood for. I have to Urban Dictionary lingo like “miz,” “aggy,” and “ATM.” I didn’t know about 2 girls one cup until I was sick to my stomache watching it! I never knew Silly Bandz were cool and I didn't know jean jackets were out. I never owned shell-toes and don't listen to the Black Eyed Peas. Ever.

And I despise when GuRlZz wR1t3 Liiiik3 tH3y @r3 $To0o0oP1d.

Two: I don’t dance. Rather, I can’t dance. According to my step-father, Asians don’t dance because they don’t know how to keep beat. This I’m afraid is true; I suck at it! What is worse are the songs with their own dance moves. They make me want to run and hide! I wish I could just You Tube that !@#$ like three year olds and learn what the F a Dougie is-- don’t even get me started on the Soulja Boy or the Single Ladies! I was undeniably born in the wrong era.

Three: I am so technologically demented. I don’t know how to even create an iTunes account! I have the same songs on my iPod since, oh hell, I don’t even remember (..just know I have Avril on repeat). I can’t own a smart phone because it will be smarter than me. The Stop & Shop ladies always come to my “Self-Serve” Checkout and my friend just taught me how to rip a CD.

I am an embarrassment to my generation. I’m sorry I would rather take pictures and study psychology, write poetry and sing-along to country tunes than learn the lyrics to Lil’ Wayne.

…wait, he’s out right? I meant to say Wiz Khalifa.

Take me as I am

2011-01-03T02:20:00.001-05:00

I have loved and I have been loved. I will forever continue to love, and in my quest for understanding I have unloved, detested, even hated. I have wanted to believe in the faith of humanity and the faith of love-- but its answers have broken me. I have been broken for the longest time, and I see this now. As human beings, I believe we can only take so much before our hearts are filled. We fill with experiences, people, passions, reflections, sometimes hate. And we try to keep our hearts locked up in defenses we don’t even realize we have created. Along with English Philosopher John Locke, I believe the human mind is born as a clean slate; as we progress through our lives we take in what we live, what lives around us-- we learn and store in all the experiences- kind of like a buffet line and as the food piles up it creates a significant dish-- that dish being each one of us, in all our particulars, the good, the bad, the everything.

I must confess I can be so heartless sometimes. I find myself pushing away the people I love-- the people that love me. I realize that comes from my mother. I fight over minuscule things; over-analyze every word; and I always take it to the lowest level. I feel more hurt than I can control and I can be so mean-- so cold sometimes. I fear falling into the vulnerabilities of love, to think I never experienced the heartbreak. But I lied. Mark broke my heart. And each day I try living with that and mending my heart; I know it takes an incredibly strong one to forgive and to honestly love like you’re heart was never broken, but it’s so hard sometimes. My life hasn’t been a fairy tale. I look at it and realize I seemed to have lost hope in love and happiness.

My father is working on his third marriage. My mother and stepfather are both divorced previously and it seems they still don’t have it right. My grandparents have divorced. Mark’s parents are divorced. And everyone else is fighting or brewing up a storm. It just seems like nothing around me is working. I don’t see anyone to their happiest capacity. Is it even completely possible to love and live happily ever after anymore?

I fear being alone, being unloved-- being replaced. I’m just so afraid to be left, hurt …and so I push. I feel if I’m preparing for the end, it won’t hurt as much when it actually happens. I fear one day when I least expect it, at my happiest state, Mark will leave me. So I don’t want to be happy because that happiness means I won‘t be prepared. The love and relationships I’ve been surrounded by have mostly ended in hurt. I see the tears and hear the anger. I sense the bitterness and feel the disappointment. Love and hurt and hate… it’s all so intertwined. And I’m scared. I have taken in so much around me, regarding love and loss; and I don’t know what it is anymore. Does love exist? Or are we all just settling for our lives and families?

Mark loves me. And I want to believe him when he says it-- but if I can’t be certain what it means, how can he?

I know when I look at James, I feel this abundance of happiness and the best emotions. I know I wouldn’t be as happy where I am if he wasn’t in my life. I know when I look at Mark, I feel relief, eased, and comfortable. I feel like I want to smile and laugh. When I look at them as my family I feel blessed. I don’t know what I feel-- or if this is called love.

A part of me is lost. I can’t be absolutely certain I know what love is anymore. But then maybe I don’t want to search for answers. I don’ t need to know what love is to feel it, embrace it, and continue to do it and all of its beautiful chaos.

“It's hard to accept, but you can't change the past. You can't go back and manipulate things to the way you wanted them to happen. Because life would be meaningless and boring and just not worth living. But you can change the future and that's a beautiful thing about life. Yes, you will make mistakes. And yes, you will have bad days-- but as long as you let the past go, you'll have such a gorgeous and bright future ahead of you. Knowing that things were meant to happen. Knowing that each day you will learn something so that you keep growing to be a better person. Life is like a rope, twined in all its complexities and yet weaved into one marvelous stream so that you have a chance to make something amazing. Grab hold of it.”

Raise Your Glass: 2011 & Life

2010-12-31T01:20:00.004-05:00

As the sands of 2010 fall with the snow, it sparks off the infamous necessity to create the “New Year’s Resolution.” Just about everyone in my life talks about it as 2011 nearly approaches us. “Lose 15 pounds,” “Communicate better,” or “Study harder.” -- it’s all the same, every year. And every year those life resolutions are broken sooner than the melted snow.

I have never fallen into the resolution-hype. I’ve never made a New Year’s Resolution. I’ve never made a promise I couldn’t keep, and so I sure as hell wasn’t planning to make a New Year’s Resolution!

Anyway, as I hear the scattering of: “My New Year’s resolution is to..” I quickly jump underneath my sheets! It seems so illogical to create a list of things you want to change, do, resolve, blah blah blah, in the new year. And as I thought this I realized-- “Wait, this resolution list seems awfully similar to my bucket list.”

I’ve created this Bucket List to open myself up to new and beautiful things I’ve wanted to try, to see and do and resolve. I don’t need a time span and a broken promise. My Bucket List is to explore a world larger than my own.

*Resolution: (res·o·lu·tion)

n.
1. process of resolving: the process of resolving something such as a problem or dispute the resolution of a difficulty
2. decision: a firm decision to do something
3. determination: firmness of mind or purpose
4. solution: an answer to a problem

So instead of creating resolutions for this upcoming year, we should be thinking, reflecting, inspired. 2010 was a beautiful year and as always, as life would have it, there was the roller coaster of happiness and sadness and anger and love. So let's fall in love with ourselves! And we should be creating experiences we want to love to live within the gift of life we were given-- a bucket list to bring us happiness and help accept the people we are.

No matter how often I tell myself to be accepting and kind (to myself), I keep waiting for that day where I can love this life I was given, wholeheartedly. I believe this bucket list will help me come to that. And with each year, or miracle I am given, I understand. I don’t need to beat myself up with a broken promise to a start fresh.

So make a movement with me; forget resolutions! Here’s a champagne toast to life.

Day Ten: One Regret

2010-12-19T03:40:00.002-05:00

I have thought long and hard about this last response. And I have wanted to simply say I have no regrets-- that I live my beautiful life to the fullest, all day, everyday…

But I’d be lying.

I regret being a terrible friend, sometimes. I regret saying toxic words when I’m hurt and/or angry. I regret allowing James to stay sleeping in bed with me. I regret stealing twenty dollars from my best friend in high school. I regret eating so much candy, sugar and all the other shit I consume. I regret not trying as hard as I know I’m capable of this last semester in school. I regret not being close or understanding before my grandmother died. I regret not learning more about my Khmer culture. I regret having that one night stand. I regret not telling my parents what really happened that night. I regret giving James everything he wants, because I sense he’s becoming a spoiled little brat. I regret leaving my family when I did. I regret flushing that ring down the toilet. I regret buying these terrible white couches …I figure I should cut this list short because I could go on and on, for a while.

As you can see, my life isn’t perfect. It’s filled with regrets, silly or not and I have realized it doesn’t matter. I can accept my previous mistakes and regrets, and change them now. I use to think it was easy to just say I had no regrets. I thought no regrets would justify all the things I had done were as things I wanted to do at the time. In the past, those things I regret, were choices I had made because I was in the “right now” of the moment. But because I have regrets simply doesn’t make me any less happy with myself or my life. Cliché:
No one person is perfect.

Day Nine.

2010-12-12T16:49:00.001-05:00

10 Day Challenge

Each day you have to produce a blog entry answering the question. I did edit a couple things.

Family Photo with Santa-- First Christmas

Family Hand Prints

Day Seven & Eight.

2010-12-09T23:58:00.000-05:00

10 Day Challenge

Each day you have to produce a blog entry answering the question. I did edit a couple things.

~~Day One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people.~~
~~Day Two: Nine things about yourself.~~
~~Day Three: Eight ways to your heart.~~
~~Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.~~
~~Day Five: Six of your favorite songs/artists.~~
~~Day Six: Five things you are looking to change.~~
Day Seven: Four things to live by.
Day Eight: Three turn ons.
Day Nine: Two photos that describe your life right now.
Day Ten: One regret.
-------------------------------------------

Day Seven: Four things to live by.

(1) Keep your mind and your heart open. When John Lennon said, "All you need is love," he got it right and meant it. You may think it's not always that simple but it is. As evolution progressed, it was etched into us humans, to take things and make things more complicated, advanced and bigger and better. One thing that has always stayed the same? Love.

(2) Keep your receipts. Sometimes it doesn't look as good as it did on the hanger. Sometimes you look at where you are spending and think "Wow, it wasn't worth it."

(3) Listen. Listen to the songs and the music and just take that time out for yourself; whether it's one minute, one hour or one year! I personally, stop and sit my my car until a good song is over.

(4) In calm and in chaos, just remember to breathe. Remember you're here-- alive and you're breathing and nothing is permanent-- there isn't a thing you can't change. You have a choice; no one said it was going to be easy, but those choices you make are what make you, you.

Day Eight: Three turn-ons.

(1) Blue eyes. Surprisingly every man I have ever loved, or has loved me has had blue eyes.

(2) Class and confidence.

(3) Aura. If it feels right, it usually is.

Day Six.

2010-12-08T13:43:00.000-05:00

10 Day Challenge

Each day you have to produce a blog entry answering the question. I did edit a couple things.

~~Day One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people.~~
~~Day Two: Nine things about yourself.~~
~~Day Three: Eight ways to your heart.~~
~~Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.~~
~~Day Five: Six of your favorite songs/artists.~~
Day Six: Five things you are looking to change.
Day Seven: Four things to live by.
Day Eight: Three turn ons.
Day Nine: Two photos that describe your life right now.
Day Ten: One regret.
--------------------------------------

Day Six: Five Things you are looking to change.
1. Procrastination. School is kicking my butt and maybe if I hadn't put off doing all my work I wouldn't be stressing out about studying and papers and finals and.. getting my butt kicked. These last couple of weeks are so jam-packed! And I haven't even started the Christmas/Holiday cards!

*Please feel free to email me your address if you'd like a Holiday card from my family to yours :)

2. Wallowing. I'm terribly good at wallowing. If I'm down, I feel down for days and lack the motivation to get up. When all my emotions tend to be bad ones-- I wallow, I cry and I take time out for myself. And then when I'm up, I soar.

3. Sometimes my insecurity grasps me and doesn't let go. I think insecurity is innate in us as human beings and the positivity leaves us in times of stress and resentment. It may simply be an ongoing battle-- but we're all working on it, as human beings.

4. Being active. Ever since I had James, I have lacked the motivation to go out and run, hike, do something for me and getting fit, or my figure back. I have lost my storage pack of energy and really-- I'd rather be sleeping. Sleeping is now a commodity.

5. And lastly, I just wish my butt wasn't so big! Trust that's changing real soon!

Day Five.

2010-12-05T17:04:00.001-05:00

10 Day Challenge

Each day you have to produce a blog entry answering the question. I did edit a couple things.

~~Day One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people.~~
~~Day Two: Nine things about yourself.~~
~~Day Three: Eight ways to your heart.~~
~~Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.~~
Day Five: Six of your favorite songs/artists.
Day Six: Five things you are looking to change.
Day Seven: Four things to live by.
Day Eight: Three turn ons.
Day Nine: Two photos that describe your life right now.
Day Ten: One regret.
___________________________

Day Five: Six of your favorite songs/artists.
This one is easy! ...well, kind of.

1) Kill -- Jimmy Eat World

"I loved you, and I should have said it,
But tell me just what has it ever meant?
I can't help it baby, this is who I am.
Sorry, but I can't just go turn off how I feel.
You kill me, you build me up, but just to watch me break,
I know what I should do, but I just can't walk away."

2) Jack and Diane -- John Mellencamp

"Oh yeah, life goes on,
Long after the thrill of livin' is gone"

3) Details in the Fabric -- Jason Mraz

"Hearts will hold."

4) Stay -- Sugarland

"I've given you my best, why does she get the best of you"

5) I've Seen All Good People -- Yes

"All we are saying
Is give peace a chance"

6) The Cars

Now, I hate picking favorites-- so these are only SOME of my favorites.

Day Four.

2010-12-03T13:22:00.000-05:00

10 Day Challenge

Each day you have to produce a blog entry answering the question. I did edit a couple things.

~~Day One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people.~~
~~Day Two: Nine things about yourself.~~
~~Day Three: Eight ways to your heart.~~
Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.
Day Five: Six of your favorite songs/artists.
Day Six: Five things you are looking to change.
Day Seven: Four things to live by.
Day Eight: Three turn ons.
Day Nine: Two photos that describe your life right now.
Day Ten: One regret.
____________________________

Day Four: Seven things that cross my mind, a lot!

(1) ...James. And love love love..

(2) Yesterday, today and tomorrow.

I think a lot about the yesterdays I had. About the past and how it has shaped me into the me I'm growing to love. I think about today-- and how to take it just one day at a time. Today is the now; breathe one breath at a time. I think loads about the tomorrow. What I want, how to get there and to realize it's all interchangeable. I try to remember, there isn't a thing I can't change.

(3) Food. I feel like I'm always hungry. I love food & I love eating.

(4) Sadly. I. Hate. To. Say. Facebook.

I hate it, it's addictive, it's stupid, and truthfully boring, but it sits on my computer screen.

(5) All the beautiful things in the world and how I want to do SO many things-- try all these new things and see all the things I want to see, do and be.

(6) Vacationing. Trying to plan a vacation and getaway for my (7).

(7) I often think about not thinking. My mind is wild and filled and rushing-- at all times. So it's just nice to think about nothing.. or try to.

Day Three.

2010-12-01T11:48:00.001-05:00

10 Day Challenge

Each day you have to produce a blog entry answering the question. I did edit a couple things.

~~Day One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people.~~
~~Day Two: Nine things about yourself.~~
Day Three: Eight ways to your heart.
Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.
Day Five: Six of your favorite songs/artists.
Day Six: Five things you are looking to change.
Day Seven: Four things to live by.
Day Eight: Three turn ons.
Day Nine: Two photos that describe your life right now.
Day Ten: One regret.
____________________________

Day Three: Eight ways to my heart.

1. Honesty and openly. Be true and be truthful. Be open and speak you mind. There are right things to say and wrong ones-- I advise you to say the right truth.

However: "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

2. Music. Love songs, sad songs, crappy songs, poopy songs-- just sing along.

3. Treat me like I deserve to be treated.

4, 5, 6, 7

8.

Someone who doesn’t give me everything
But someone who never tells me “no.”
Someone who holds me tight but
Someone who knows when to let go.
Someone who secures me and assures me
That I’m like no other.
Someone who hears and listens
Because I’m no bother.
Someone smart, sweet and charming.
Someone relaxed, cute and calming.
I want to believe in a soul mate,
Someone more than a couple of dates.
Someone I can still lust after
With a perfect ex-girlfriend,
Whose perfection doesn’t matter.
Someone who knows what I want,
When I want it,
How I want it,
If I want it…
I want to meet someone I don’t have to explain myself to.
Someone who can love me all the way through.

Day Two.

2010-11-29T13:32:00.000-05:00

10 Day Challenge

Each day you have to produce a blog entry answering the question. I did edit a couple things.

~~Day One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people.~~
Day Two: Nine things about yourself.
Day Three: Eight ways to your heart.
Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.
Day Five: Six of your favorite songs/artists.
Day Six: Five things you are looking to change.
Day Seven: Four things to live by.
Day Eight: Three turn ons.
Day Nine: Two photos that describe your life right now.
Day Ten: One regret.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Day Two: Nine things about yourself.

(1) I can be a terrible friend. I feel like my life moves so fast sometimes and I just like having time to myself. Sometimes I like sitting on the couch while my brain is turning to mush-- not talking about anything, to anyone. Sometimes I just want to listen to music and not think, at all. Sometimes I just want a safe little circle, where I don't want to worry about being judged. And if you're not making an effort to stay connected with me-- I'm not making an effort for you.

I wish I could be the friend I was in high school, where every second of my life was evolving around useless necessities-- clothes and boys. I wish I could hang around and giggle over silly things. But life moves on and we grow up and time becomes a precious commodity.

(2) I'm a walking contradiction. I'm shy, but I'm not at all. I'm insecure, but I'm filled with confidence. I love when I love & hate when I hate.

(3) I'm terrified to get bird-pooped-on. As you read this, you may laugh, maybe drop a chuckle, but it's not funny! I avoid birds that fly directly above me. I flinch when a bird is too close. I jumped and cried more times than I would like to recall in The Birds. I think it has something to do with their green and white poop... gross.

(4) My phone number is 617.980.4550. Feel free to text me. Or call me if you EVER need someone to talk to. *please note-- I do not have any service in my apartment.

(5) I own two copies of the Moulin Rouge! soundtrack & know all the words to all the songs.

Sadly, I've studied voice for years, five or six, to be exact-- but I feel I have lost it. I don't know where I'd be if anyone was to make me sing aloud.

(6) I don't read as much as I'd want. It's like the books I want to read aren't any better than the books I've already read. I can be really thick sometimes. Like I don't want a new camera when mine is working fine. My motto: why mess with something that isn't broken?

(7) I probably eat wayyyy too much crappy, junk food. I use to be so healthy-- reading the labels, not eating meat-- and then there was Mark. He is a terrible influence because he's a terrible eater. TERRIBLE. It doesn't matter what's in it, where it's been, what it's made of-- he'll eat it. And I'm not that wild, but I know I could be doing better. Also, I probably shouldn't be keeping the loads of candy I have in my bag.

(8) I often think about how my ex-s are doing. Like how they are, where they are, what they're doing et cetera, et cetera. But those questions usually come across my mind in all circumstances; I over analyze more than I think most people do. I often find myself asking "what-if?" --but not in regret.

(9) If one nail breaks, they all have to be cut to the same size. Volumes and controls have to be at an even number. Ideally, 0, 5, 10, 15 etc. If not then 0, 2, 5, 8, 12, 15, 18, 20 are acceptable. I refer to these as "ticks" not OCD, thank you!

Day One.

2010-11-22T13:49:00.001-05:00

I decided this sounds interesting.

10 Day Challenge -- Courtesy of Becky Todd

Each day you have to produce a blog entry answering the question. I did edit a couple things.

Day One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people.
Day Two: Nine things about yourself.
Day Three: Eight ways to your heart.
Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.
Day Five: Six of your favorite songs/artists.
Day Six: Five things you are looking to change.
Day Seven: Four things to live by.
Day Eight: Three turn ons.
Day Nine: Two photos that describe your life right now.
Day Ten: One regret.

Day one: Ten things you want to say to ten different people.
-------------------------------------------------------------
(1) I love you more than I've ever loved anything or anyone in my entire life. When you fall, I flinch; when you cry, I die to make it all better; when you smile, I am the happiest person in the universe. You are my heaven, my love, my light and my life. I am so lost without you.

(2) You broke my heart.

(3) Have we met before? I feel like I know you from somewhere...

(4) I wish we could see more of each other. I'm sorry we drifted apart and I take full responsibility. I feel like our lives have gone in these two different directions and I miss the good old, simple days of high school-- when the biggest things we were worrying about were boys and clothes. Now that we're older, I miss you and you're simply across town. And you were right.

(5) I don't understand why I didn't get a perfect score-- I made the corrections you asked me to make and I worked extremely hard. You also mentioned I did very well but just because I got an A doesn't mean a 95 is a 100.

(6) I can't believe how ignorant you are. I am the one that told you not everyone has to believe everything you believe; that opinions are not right or wrong. You continued to say "well, your opinions are stupid and you're never right." I know not everyone has to believe everything I believe. But don't say you're being a devil's advocate when you push your opinions onto me and everyone else. I'm sorry that everyone came at you and disagreed with you-- leading to your tears. But I'm not sorry that I think you deserved it.

I feel you continue to upset people with your rudeness. It's no wonder you always have something terrible to say about someone else. "I don't give a shit about the environment" or "she's a bitch, let's move" or the majority, "you're so stupid, hahahahah..." But I tried seeing the good in you.

You're telling me to grow up but sweetheart, reality check, you're the one talking shit. And I don't want to be friends with your toxic behavior. This isn't middle school.

(7) We have dinner plans tonight.. I don't know what I'm going to say to you. I still don't know what I want-- I've been thinking about this for a while, way before you knew. I'm so relieved that he finally came clean and I'm so happy you're there for me. I'm afraid I'm going to get over emotional. I'm afraid you might persuade me into something I don't think will be best. I just hope it all goes well tonight. And thank you-- thank you in case I forget to say it later.

(8) You guys are heaven sent. You guys are the definition of best friends.

(9) We keep making plans to go out, so let's go out!! Karaoke & sushi-- girl's night out ;)

(10) Even though I've never met you, your soul and your love engulfs me way over here in Boston. I wish I could bring the little man to see you and the cats for Thanksgiving, maybe even meet the cheese to your macaroni. You are an angel. You always know what to say and not what to say-- until the day we meet, I'll just finish this cup of coffee in hopes you're doing the same.

Baby, you need me like I need you.

2010-11-12T09:27:00.001-05:00

I have underestimated the love of grandparents.

When the surprise of James’ unexpected birth was announced, I was hesitant with our family. I remember saying Mark’s mother shouldn’t love James any less because he wasn’t planned or because Mark and I weren’t married. It was like the overwhelming disapproval or disappointment would cloud her love for this baby. And I’ve come to realize now- it hasn’t.

Our parents still laugh when he smiles; or worries when he falls; or kiss him with every tear. The love is unmistakable. I guess I figured he didn’t really NEED them. Growing up I wasn’t close to my grandparents-- I never had the grandparents that spoiled me and bought me everything I needed, or made hot apple pie every time I would visit with stories of their lives. So, I didn’t think he needed them either. But every time James visits his grandparents, or any family, for that matter-- there is the game of “pass-the-baby,“ where lots of laughter and giggles; excitement and clapping; yelling and playing are all shared. Having James and being apart of his life has made me understand the truth behind family. Family doesn’t seem to be the people you’re stuck with, or the people to embarrass you during outings and holidays. Family has shifted into this biological, sixth-sense that makes you love with all your heart and everything you are. Family are the people connected to you; who shaped you into what you are; and who you can depend on without limitations or judgment. Family is the blood that you share with another. (Well, not necessarily blood, but I’m using it for effect.)

“You can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose..”

Or your family. Have you ever thought the people you call your family are the people meant to be within your life?

In sociology, a theory of personality develops through the process of socialization, with this, we are able to find our SELF. Socialization is the life long process where an individual acquires a personal identity through norms, values, behavior. The social experience we encounter and process is what develops our personality and our image of self. In sociology, the argument of our social experience is greatly due to our family. I thank my family for who I’ve become. I was taught right from wrong. I witnessed morality, tradition, acceptance and behavior and adjusted them to what I believe. I feel who you are is created by the culture and society around you-- it’s not about solitude and finding your inner peace. Because you can’t find who you are if your not around people to compare it to. You can’t think or love or pray-- if you were never taught. You don’t know what it is you like unless you find something you don’t. I’m starting to realize no thought is original.

“Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I've ever known.” -- Chuck Palahniuk

I’m just glad to have the people around me. I’m grateful to be supported and loved and made fun of when deserving. I pray I could be just as influential as my family and friends have been. I hope I do a good job at being a mother, friend, sister, lover and everything else I am. I am blessed and hope James can appreciate the family around him. I’m learning to. So many times I have heard the phrases: I know what I’m doing, look you turned out okay or I’ve done this before, look at you or I told you- he’s spoiled. It’s like backseat parenting! I also hope I’m not as bad a grandparent as our parents are.

It's in the water, It's where you came from

2010-11-03T09:32:00.003-04:00

The recent spikes in crime has yet made me forget how the sky turns all shades of pinks and oranges when it’s about to shine or how the sunlight sparkles on every inch of the harbor just before it sets; how the skyline is unmistakable for any other and anywhere you want to be is in walking distance of where you are. It hasn’t made me forget the cold on my nose or the pink in the noses of strangers as autumn falls upon us. With high’s of 32 degrees, last week I saw men rockin’ shorts in 70 degree weather. This rise doesn’t change the fact that the B’s just beat the Senators or Maple Leaves or have a 6-0 season; or how the Celtic’s have another prospering year. The crimes don’t keep me inside my apartment in fear- I still wake up every morning at dusk and hop on the subway, the sweet sewer smell mixed with fresh brewed coffee to wake me up. I have yet been repelled by the billions of germs and the billions of bacteria living on the poles touched my billions of people. I simply adjusted- washing my hands every chance I get. Moving on, this spike in crime has not changed the fact that people still wake up every morning, grabbing their winter coats for fall, wrapping necks up in scarves and hiding their legs in calf-high boots. Life simply moves on. And the love I still have for Boston has yet to change.

I don’t see myself in any other place but here. Here; this is where my home is, my life, my heart, my family and friends. Boston is what I know- where I’m rooted.

In Dorchester there has been a recent climb of gentrification. Out with the dirty and in with the wealthy. I don’t blame the process or the people with money to buy all these properties for this uprising- Dot is an urban, convenient place for luxury living. It’s five minutes away from Boston, with nightlife, restaurants and mom-pop shops; the T is easily accessible and the greenspace mix is ideal for a working young(ish) professional. The new complexes and loft styles are being built to draw in the rich and push out the poor. Location, location, location! Now, I’m not from Dorchester and I’m not one of the rich or poor. But I feel myself being pushed out. Boston and Massachusetts in general, are expensive places to live.

As Mark and I plan where to live or settle down within the next five years, options in Massachusetts are looking slim. According to housingtracker.net, the median price of houses in Boston, Massachusetts is $335K, while Dallas, Texas is $182,260 or Tucson, Arizona is $179,000. I could see myself settling in Seattle, where the median is $299,950 but that still feels a bit high. I don’t want to move, but I’m slowly starting to think I need a bit of a change and maybe eventually I‘m afraid to fall homesick. I have decided to try a different location for at least a year- I‘ve even placed it on my bucket list. I don’t know when- but I will.

DISCLAIMER:
Faith, Fate and Zombies
I love my parents, I love my whole family with everything I am. I wouldn’t be who I am without them. My younger sister is my best friend. I tell her everything and she makes me laugh more than anyone I have ever met. My mother does so much for me and has given up so much for me. She is the most inspiring person who has been through unmentionable events and still remains one of the most strongest people I know. My mother helps me out and my son loves her to death. My dad is thoughtful and reliable. He is sarcastic and quirky, but mostly a fine judge of character. He supports me and my decisions, outlandish and all, but will be totally blunt with me, even when it’s not what I want to hear. He also just bought me a car!

Also, I am in love with a man who has my whole entire heart. He cooks and supports me in all I strive for. He is the father of my child and continuously notes how he wouldn’t want it any other way. He loves me with his whole heart and I know it. We financially live on his pay check and yet, he pushes me in school and to be the best, to do my best. He confesses everything to me. And James and I would be lost without him.

My Ode to Coffee; Well, Not Really an Ode

2010-10-20T12:32:00.000-04:00

I’ve always been what you might call a “night owl.” I can find myself overly exhausted, on the verge of collapsing and still be awake, running on fumes at three in the morning- without an urge to lay down my head. But once I do- I can sleep for hours and hours and hours to days and days. It’s as if my body and mind are storing these sleep-hours for later use, it’s amazing.

Well, school has got me in scrambles. I have the most inconsistent pattern of sleep- I go mad trying to explain it. On the Monday, Wednesdays and Fridays I find myself waking at five am. That may not sound bad, but falling asleep at 130- 2ish, takes it’s toll on you. Tuesdays and Thursdays, I could sleep until noon including all the naps! With the baby, I find myself waking in the middle of the night. (We have been trying to put the baby asleep in his crib lately, assuming he is too old to be cuddling and sleeping with his mommy and daddy at eight and a half months.) So he wakes at night, or morning I should say, and cries because he’s all alone. I always end up picking my little snuggle bear out and taking him to bed with us.

As you could imagine, my school days are beginning to feel longer and longer and I’ve been trying so hard to cope with my loss. But there just doesn’t seem to be adequate substitutions to the all-natural, real relaxed, peace kind of sleep. So I’ve found coffee.

I just recently began drinking coffee, so I’m no connoisseur and I’ve never really acquired the taste for it. But, recently I began to enjoy my coffee. The warmth in my hands and the heat tickling my nose. Along with it’s bitter, distinguished smell and the sweetness on my tongue. The fact that when it slides down my throat, how awake and cozy I feel. Or after drinking some hazelnut, light roasted, 16 ounce, extra cream, extra sugar, Green Mountain Coffee, how I can take down all the challenges in my day- with a sword. (Because I like swords, not related to violence, of course.)

Anyway, where was I? Rambling, no doubt. But coffee. I have become such a fan. The caffeine jolts my heart awake and I feel it’s like Ritalin on my mind. I’ve become fueled. So, coffee, my new-found love, how I don’t know where I’d be without you.

Love, Me.

Faith, Fate and Zombies

2010-10-16T00:50:00.001-04:00

I have always been on the path to self discovery. Realizing in my wild twenty-one years what this beautiful life could consist of if I ever found it. I thought I knew who I was and what I was capable of but I find myself looking for more. I want more than the simple life I lead behind my brown eyes or the tint in my skin or trying to be everything.

I have loved and loved and love. I will always. Love has always been a large part of my life and for the longest time I lost my faith in the meaning of love. I was sick thinking of love as some go to reserve. Love was an idealist way of thinking and in my life it was never just as simple as to love and be loved. I was in love with a man who didn’t love me back, wholeheartedly. I ended up bearing his child as he left me for another. I’m now with this same man, finding out he was heartless. After fake promises and excess lies, I’ve learned to question the love I have for him. I’ve lost the faith I have in people and find myself settling. I’m too tired, too terrified to put myself out there. It has been tough on my soul.

School has been tough on my soul. It makes me question my abilities and the identity I always thought I was filling. I want so eagerly to impress my professors, my former classmates and my parents. My parents who still don’t think I am capable of finishing. My parents who still burden me to be the best and it‘s been like that my entire life. My judgmental parents reminding me not to fail, when that changes my thought process to “What if I fail?” My strict parents who shaped me into this overly-emotional-newly-liberal-lack-of-a-religion character. All my life I wished I could have had motivating and thoughtful parents; parents I wasn’t always trying to prove myself to. My parents that made me question the love they have for me or for each other. Their relationship shaped me into expecting what I want in mine. I wished I had parents to help me in my search of self-discovery. ‘I’m trying,’ I find myself saying continuously. ‘I can do this,” I remind myself every morning as the alarm scolds me awake and sleeping next to me is the man I call the love of my life. The love of my life who is half of my baby; who leaves me easily every time his ex comes into town. This love who breaks my heart daily, just to make me fall in love again. But reality beeps every time the alarm clock does.

That is another thing: I could sleep for hours. No, I could sleep for days at this point. I’m so mentally tired and physically exhausted, I find myself sleeping awake! The kind of sleeping I see in faces of students walking class to class or sitting in the cafeteria- even in zombies. Waking at five in the morning is taking its toll on my body and mind. I try exploring options to fight the pain; coffee requires massive amount of sugar and cream for me to be able to drink it; those energy drinks make me pee like I’m pregnant; all the candy I’m eating is making me gain weight; and then the option of sleeping just isn’t an option. People say it gets better- easier even, but those people are zombies, I think.

As I roam the lonely halls from class to class, I see unique, zombie-like faces and feel the brisk warmth of hearts and souls from the lives of the people around me, like schools of fish. We are all like schools of fish, some of us get caught up in the big, blue ocean; some of us are continuously looking for something more; and then the rest of us realize that we are just fish.

I'm not caught up in the world. I don't think it needs to change. I don't think there are things I need to see to make me love it any more. I think the world is an amazing gift, I'm happy I was given a life, love and family to share it all with everyday I breathe. I know no matter what we do in the lives we are given, change is minimal. It is in our fate what is to happen when it does. I think the people in this world- me included, need to just realize everyday is another day to be thankful for what you have. I don't need to be caught up in the world to understand my blessings.

I'm not continuously looking for more. I don't need to travel, I'm happy where I am in the life I live. I know where I want to be. I don't need to find and look for peace. I have it in my heart and I think everyone does within their souls. Peace is acceptance. Peace is love. Peace is everyday in the normal, simple lives we live. When we breathe, laugh, dream and think- we are at peace. Peace is what is means to just be human.

That is all we are. We are human. We are meant to be just the way we are in our faults.

And our perfections. James Tuy Norrman. I have developed a fear of being without him. I feel like he is questioning where his mommy is when he stays with his grandmothers. I get over anxious, just in case something goes wrong. I fear he’s as lost without me as I am lost without him.

I began to think I under-estimated how difficult it actually is to be a full time student and mother. Recently, I was on the subway and some stranger won a seat right next to me. After a couple of stops he breaks the silence with his broken English, “You a Umass student?” Of course, I answered with a simple ‘yes.’ He continued, “What year are you?” I retorted, “It’s my first year.” He chuckled, implying his age.

I felt a tad embarrassed, “It shouldn’t be my first, though,” feeling my cheeks fill with color. He chuckled some more and retorted, “Oh yeah, and why shouldn’t it be your first?” I told him how I took off three years and that I wasn’t as young as I may have looked in my tiny mini skirt.

His face soon turned from his experienced chuckle to confusion. “What could you have done in those three years to put off school?” I felt somewhat of a stab. Like who was this man questioning my decisions? And how he wasn’t displaying an acceptable, societal behavior- for subway talk, anyway. “I took off three years because I had to,” realizing my choice of words were terrible, I felt a need to begin explaining my motives. “I originally took off a year because I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Then I applied to Umass and got in for the 2008 fall semester. I didn’t have my finances in order and missed the mark, so I didn’t attend. I wasn’t living at home-- made some bad decisions. I decided, after moving back home, to attend school in the 2009 fall semester. Then I found out I was pregnant.” His face turned again in acceptance, “Ahhh!” I continued with my story, “I didn’t want to leave my infant alone after I gave birth. And I didn’t want to make it in the winter semester with my boyfriend still at work. So I just started. My baby is old enough to know I’m here for him and I made a schedule to convenience me and my choice to go back to school.” He sat there in silence for a minute or two. Then he smiled. “Wow. Wow. Wow. I underestimated you.” Satisfaction filled me. ‘Damn right you did!’ I wanted to scream. But all I could do was smile. He laughed, “That’s honorable of you. You going back to school and raising your child. I don’t know how you do it.” I sensed an ooze of respect. He didn’t have to say it or anything for that matter.

Here was this man somewhere in his late twenties and he was showing me respect. After overcoming his pre-prejudice and his pride, he realized I wasn’t just some little girl. I felt like I held a different sense of wisdom than he. Our fate lead us in completely different pathes, as we bid our farewells and he got off on the next stop. I then sat in reflection and realized I was capable of so much more. Just not in the R&R department and we’ll see where it all goes- hopefully not into that door with my zombie-like sleeping.

Gravy: My First Day Back to School

2010-10-03T16:05:00.001-04:00

Gravy

Blue light flashed 5:00 across my eyes as I started to get out of bed, exhaustion already beginning to consume my body. I smell the fresh brew of much needed coffee Mark had set the night before and begin getting dressed. Darkness still filled the room as Mark and James remained sleeping in their beds and their pajamas. My adjusted eyes scanning a sparse closet, dirty clothes scattered over the Behr carpet and finally a decision is made! Jeans and a tee shirt. I take a couple of steps over to my mustard colored bathroom- brush, wash and rinse myself out to find Mark is awake holding James. We switch roles. As he begins to dress, I’m stuck soothing a teary-eyed baby and buckling him into his car seat. “One challenge down, one billion more today.” I say.

The grey sky began forming beautiful silver linings as I formed anxiousness. James was dropped off at Braintree, Mark off to Dedham and I amidst a handful of other first day of schoolers. Bouncing around in the shuttle bus, Ipod in ear, witnessing a beautiful morning; a panoramic view of Boston; the exquisite ocean sparkled with sail boats and sunshine. The time was just before seven and my first class wasn’t until eight, but I could sit here all day.

Thanking the driver I made my way following the masses of people out the door. Cold air brushed my cheeks and I decided it was a bad idea to be wearing simply a tee shirt. Before me was the stone white campus center building. I’ve seen the building many times before, but today it seemed brighter and more inviting. The way the sun hit it woke me up, ‘Back to school, after three years and I know I can do this.’

After a quick attempt to pep myself up, I walked right on in. Sleepy workers, busy students, early risers, all barged past me. Coffee mugs and cups were in the hands of nearly everyone, including me; the scent and heat smacked me in the face along with it’s bitter taste. ‘Ouch!’ I thought, getting an elbow to my rib. There was limited space and no open seats around the lap top tables. I felt a stab of fear- I was alone. Friends were already made, couples hand in hand and I knew no one. Faces I recognized from orientation didn’t recognize me and I continued walking.

Tired faces sat silently in my classroom. There are no windows, but rows and rows of desks. The clock hands read somewhere around 7:20. I wanted to get here early to make sure I got a good seat for lecture. It relieved me to find out I wasn’t alone. I found it hard to start a conversation with the strangers around me because no one seemed to want to share a word. There were spaced out seats around the room and I sat there taking it all in. I’ve never been here before. I’ve never met these people.

The professor came in and as he continued to stress about tardiness, my mind wondered off to James. The fifty minutes came and went. He dismissed us with his broken English. Another class in a windowless room with another set of strangers, came and went. She had a lisp and bruises on her heals, while the girl sitting next to me smelled like ice cream sundaes. She warned us about a fire drill and when that rolled around, I stood outside, trying to find someone to talk to. Biology 111 started later than is should have. It took ten minutes alone to get into the building. My professor was quirky and the auditorium had not one empty seat. You could hear the chattering of students get louder and louder just before 12:50. I had an hour to kill before English class and I was endurably hungry. I headed to the dining room, sat and ate alone, then rushed to my English class. I was among a couple of other students, whom also arrived early; the fluorescent lights fighting to keep me awake. A tall, lanky man walked in and sat down. We stared at him, he stared at us. Silence. English was already my worst subject and a fear of failing made it’s way across my thoughts like a plague. For the next ten minutes or so, I sat there, intimidated, thinking about motivation, success and failure- how cold the room became. I questioned whether or not I should even be here. I was a twenty-one year old mother, from a family of non-college graduates and how alone I felt. I was scared. Fifty minutes came and went. I headed to my last class. The professor was blonde and amiable. We did class introductions. She dismissed us with reading assignments and a wish for a good weekend.

Waiting for the shuttle bus all my fears and emotions began tossing and turning. Feeling like I was just kicked in the stomach, I finally made it home. Mark was there with the baby to pick me up. I told him about my day; about my professors and my fears; about how everyone seemed to have a place and a role. I told him I felt alone. He reassured me I’d make friends easily and that he‘d be there for me. I asked him about his day and how school was. “It’s all gravy” he responded and as simple as that my brain filed those fears away at the thought of my hatred for gravy.