Blood Stained Scarf

It’s been four weeks since Nadia got mugged. Two men followed her from the bus and pulled her into the alley by the bar down the street, beat her and took her purse.

To see the look in her eyes not even 5 minutes after it happened. Lost, confused, questioning why anyone would ever do something like that. Her false safe reality, her glass bubble, completely shattered to a trillion pieces. She looked at her hands, her scarf and jacket spotted with blood, and she looked at me with eyes asking “Why?” All I could say was that I was sorry. I’m sorry this is the reality women live on the daily in this country and many around the world. I’m sorry you will have to deal with this for the rest of your life. I’m sorry there was no way I could warn you enough. There was so way I could have warned her enough.

I’m conflicted with so many feelings. She is now experiencing the emotional roller coaster of post traumatic stress disorder, and at times I think, so am I. I have no energy left for myself. In saying that, I am also conflicted with how much attention I should be bringing to myself in this situation. Is it selfish of me to do so? All the monsters in my head are gnawing away at what I should or shouldn’t be doing, while I have daily 2-3 hours therapy sessions with Nadia. Friends have said, “I’ll be there for her when I can,” “I have to have a heart to heart with her,” “I bring it up but she’s hesitant so I stop there.” Then the second it’s me and Nadia, a waterfall of emotions so rough it hurts to stand up. Is it because I know what questions to ask? Is it because I’m around more by default? Is it because I was there 2 minutes after it happened, and I understand exactly how it all went down, so by default she rather be with someone she doesn’t have to explain it to again and again?

It reminds me of another situation where I gave my all to someone in need, only to later realize that she wouldn’t have done the same for me. It makes me wonder if my friends will actually act on what they say. In times of high stress and emotional turmoil, who are truly our friends? Are they only friends when it’s conveniently on a high, conveniently happy to bring their moods up?

I’ve been told that my resilience attracts people to spill their stories to me, to lean and depend on me. A blessing and a curse. Since she was mugged, my life has been work and Nadia. Friends have emotionally copped out and are there when it’s convenient for them. I’m starting to lose faith in them. I’m not asking to suddenly gain the resilience and the strength one needs to carry the weight, I’m asking for help in carrying something that is more layered than I could have imagined. People ask me how Nadia is doing all the time, instead of going straight to her, and in the process forget to ask how I am doing. Please help me carry the layers, take them to a safe space, pick them apart and let the layers cry and feel numb and feel whatever she feels at the moment. I can’t turn away from her until I’m confident that she has other shoulders to lean on. I can’t do it.

Allies are needed.

And I’m spent, exhausted. And I’m scared if I keep giving her my energy, I’ll have nothing left.

I like her too much

And I think she’s pulling away.

There’s this communication theory or something like that, where when you know you’ll be leaving something or someone, even before you actually leave it or them, you begin to avoid that thing or person. It’s some defense mechanism called disassociation. If we wait until all is said and done to begin to pull away, by then it’s too hard and painful. We feel the need to be in control of that emotion.

So I think this is what’s happening. And maybe I like her too much.

Or maybe she’s bored of me. Who knows. Other priorities, other people, just other.

She just seemed so into me, then not.

I’m always the one to ask to hang out lately, and it seems like I’m a bother.
The last time I spent the night, we only kissed because I initiated it, and even then she was busy thinking about something else. Even in the morning when I said bye. No kiss. I got in my car and just cried. It sounds stupid maybe, but I’m tired of being desired by someone, then one day it all changes. I get attached and they go away. And although she hasn’t left just yet, I doubt I’m on her mind.

I have no control over anything, and I’m fine with that. I guess until I’m left feeling stupid and alone in it all. I just want to know what’s going through her mind, and what she wants.

I like you…. But..

At the beginning, Erin kept saying that’s what she was used to hearing. I wanted her to know that just because I didn’t want a relationship then it didn’t mean I was going anywhere. I like her, and no one else. But my last relationship was so rushed. And it ended terribly. My goal was not to end it, number 1. And number 2, to actually get to know her before putting labels on things. And timing is such a bitch right now!

Last night I asked her if I could call her my girlfriend. It got to the point where I knew I didn’t want anyone else. I want her. She answered with a very sleepy “yes”, which wasn’t convincing one bit. She fell right asleep and I stayed awake for at least another hour, wanting to talk about it but not wanting to wake her up. I had a very restless night, and when she asked how I slept I blamed it on her bed hogging. She does tend to do that.
And now I’m having such a restless day. I’m so anxious.
This morning on the way to her house I asked if she remembered me asking. She said only vaguely, so I recounted her sleepy response. Then she talked all about how during summer she’ll be way too busy, and she’ll feel bad not responding and giving me time.
My take? I like you, but… Not enough.

>

A girl can hope right?

Or maybe I should just let it go? I like this girl, I can’t deny it. But it’s all about timing. For about a week I hadn’t heard too much from her, until I told her I for reals want to hang out before she leaves for spring break. I felt like I was even annoying her, because she had midterms that week and l was probably the last thing on her mind. But she tried to reassure me that she also wants to hang out and “see where we are at.”
Welp, I guess in the end my mind had changed a bit, and hers went the other direction. She doesn’t know what she wants and I guess in the end neither do i. But I never do. All I know is that everything just kind of melts when I’m around her.

Like when she sang a Corinne Bailey Rae cover at this open mic a couple weeks ago. I had to turn away for a second…melt.

Massachusetts declares upskirt photos legal; outrage ensues

Yup… I swear us women are pissed. And we have every right to be.

Dr. Rebecca Hains

This week, Massachusetts’ Supreme Judicial Court has ruled that upskirt photographs are legal, sparking outrage across Massachusetts and beyond.

Upskirt photos are photographs taken from beneath a woman’s skirt to capture an image of her crotch area and underwear without her consent. They are a gross violation of privacy—but the court has decided that, as state law currently stands, women wearing skirts in public do not have a reasonable expectation of privacy.

Man taking an upskirt photo on a train Okay to upskirt? Surreptitiously taking photographs up women’s skirts is now legal in Massachusetts.

This decision came about when the state’s highest court ruled on the case of a man who secretly snapped photographs up women’s skirts and dresses on public transit in 2010. The court argued that because of the way the law (Mass. Gen. Laws ch. 272. sec. 105: Photographing, videotaping, or electronically surveilling partially nude or nude person; exceptions; punishment) is written, the man…

View original post 816 more words

Obama would give me a raise

I asked for a raise today and it was so incredibly awkward! I didn’t dance around the subject, I thought that would be more awkward. So I just said straight out, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. I want to ask you for a raise.” And as I waited there for his response, he just gave me his cara de huarache. I realized he was somewhat stunned by my forwardness, so I decided to elaborate on why. How I felt taken advantage of since I wasn’t informed beforehand about the companies expansion before I took the job. That although they took advantage of me, that I knew they were good people and didn’t mean to at all, but that I was taken advantage of nonetheless. That the team has done a great job even when we are behind at times because of lack of help. And then he cut in saying I was so against hiring someone else. I had to explain to him (again) that I knew I was hiring for the office and not our team. Hiring for the office is not my job. “well you should have been more open in your communication about that.” Well now, boss sir, open your eyes please, and thank you. “And those are strong words you used, we never meant to make you feel that way. We see you as family and we never want to make family feel that way.” Well boss sir, thanks…boss family sir…but no. If you saw me as family I wouldn’t have to ask for a raise, and you would actually care about my day.

So after all that, he said he’d get back to me by the end of the week.

I’m sitting here getting some work done and watching the State of the Union. President Obama tells a story about someone in the audience who owns a pizza shop and gave everyone that he employs…dun dun dunnnnn… a raise. Sally turned to me and started laughing. “Holy shit, I hope my boss is watching right now!” Then Obama said we should all get raises! Listen boss sir, Obama said so…

Seriously though. I hope my boss is watching and it scares the shit out of him.

Probably because we can handle it.

I’ve been noticing a pattern in the past month that I’ve either ignored all my life, or with time just decided to expose itself. Probably a bit of both. People are very comfortable around me, people and people’s time.

In the past month, I’ve had two close friends tell me they’ve been raped, and another has been but is in denial. I’ve not only realized that this happens so much to women and we just silence ourselves. It’s so fucking disgusting, the whole rape culture. We go about our day to day on a rape schedule, always looking behind our shoulder when walking alone, waling faster if someone is behind us, locking our car doors when we get in. Its this incredibly inferior cycle that we are put in, and we are trained to be in. And i’m down right tired of it, and tired of hearing that such wonderful people have experienced such a harsh and fucked up reality. End venting. But really….

Also, people’s time. Time as if it’s its own being. We all have it, we all waste it, take it for granted and forget it exists. And then suddenly it’s gone, and we remember the good times and long for them. I’ve seen 4 people dead, not die, but dead. I’ve instinctually knew 3 people weren’t going to last much longer, before reality made that true. I feel like if there is a God, he knows I can handle losing people to death. Multiple people. And I can handle foreseeing such a thing. Some people may call me crazy, and yeah, I can be. But with this? No, I’m positive. The crazy thing is I don’t know I’m sensing it until it happens, then all of these feelings and clues come rushing back to me, knocking me over with how freaking obvious they were.

Anyway, I’m soon to lose someone else. And although we weren’t extremely close, we quickly connected. What can I say? That Cali-swag! She’s a badass, one of my past professors. I pretty much took my entire minor by just taking her classes. Maybe 3 years ago, she came down with breast cancer that had already spread to her lungs when they caught it. Now it’s in her brain. And now she’s on hospice. Time I took for granted and can never have back, but time I knew deep down was precious and limited from the second we met and clicked.
Before she had found out, she was always sick and canceling class. All the students in her classes were tired of not getting their money’s worth, and tired of not hearing her awesome lectures. So of course, being the blunt, to the point person that I am, I emailed her telling her to come back. She said thank you, I know, see you monday. And from then on she barely missed a class. A few weeks later she informed the class she had cancer, and she looked straight at me. My heart dropped to the floor and I could barely breathe. I saw it in her from the beginning, something that made me uneasy about her, like it usually happens. I get this uneasy, irking feeling that goes away the second I know for sure what I feeling wasn’t crazy.But I felt so incredibly connected at the same time. She wasn’t looking at me to make me feel guilt for giving her a hard time, she did it as a thank you. And from then on we had an unsaid understanding that I appreciated her teaching, and that her teaching was the only sense of normalcy and sanity for her. We quickly learned that neither of us like bullshitting, “get to the point and don’t waste our time” types. She required a 24 page paper once…I wrote 12, skipped class to finish writing it, ran into her on the way up to her office in the elevator, and nervously and quickly handed it to her as I was leaving the elevator and she was getting in. Not spell-checked, not 24 pages. I got an A. My friend who wrote 24 pages, and most likely flawless in grammar, she got a C.
I also learned that California still has our hearts, and this retched small midwestern town was a bitter sweet black hole. She also taught me resilience, and to give myself more worth. If I don’t, no one else will. And her teaching in the class room, man. She taught me more than art history, but taught me to critically question EVERYTHING I see. Absolutely everything. Her voice and advocacy for women’s rights and equality continues to ring in my head, especially when my fellow strong women are feeling down. And when all of these strong women in my life are coming to me with heartbreaking stories about stupid men and rape.

And she was ringing in my head tonight, during our groups ladies night. about 13 of us all went out for drinks at an open mic, sang and read poetry. We talked and reminded each other that we’re not crazy, just too nice sometimes. And all these women, strong women around me. For all the shit we put up with, for all of it left unsaid. We are all the best badasses to walk this earth. Seriously. But I do have to say, how emotionally exhausting it all is. So exhausting.

He didn’t call even after a tornado.

There was a tornado that passed our town and touched down on the other side of the river. I was 3 hours away when it happened and luckily my roommate called me to tell me to stay where I was. It surprised me that my dad had yet to call me. Every morning and every night he check the weather online before he starts his day, or goes to sleep. For 6 years, he’s been a better weather radar than the local news, occasionally texting or calling to let me know a storm was on its way.

I still haven’t heard from him since July. And although my hurt may sound trivial compared to the pain people are feeling right now with homes and belongings completely gone, I can’t help how it creeps into my mind at work and stops me in mid sentence throughout the day. I’m pretty sure he knew about it and didn’t call me. Even if he didn’t know before, he knew about it after and still didn’t call me.

So one day, while shower thinking, I thought about the situation as if it was the other way around. If an earthquake were to hit home, I’d be calling as soon as I can. As a matter of fact, when a 5.4 earthquake hit right outside of Mexico City, I called home to ask if they knew if everyone was okay. My dad and uncle hadn’t heard about the earthquake yet. If that’s how I reacted about family I barely know, I would definitely be calling if it hit California.

It’s sad to think that I almost drove right into a storm, if it hadn’t been for my roommate’s call. He wouldn’t have had a clue, not out of not being aware, but out of pride. And unfortunately, my resentment grows.

How To Be Alone

A friend just posted this on Facebook. I recently cut out someone from my life, Cigarette Lips. It took him a while to say the words, “I don’t feel the same for you as you do me,” even after asking him 4 times to say those words aloud. With his hesitation, and his hysterical begging to still talk to him afterwards, I realized he was full of shit. A part of me still wants him to admit how he feels, but he said what I asked him to instead. In the end, I’m left having to take those words and act on them. I know I’m terrible at getting over him since I definitely failed the first time around. But this video, this small reminder that I can at least be okay with being alone. I forget how valuable I am, just me, alone. My thoughts and work and actions and singing and dancing and all my ability and love. I have so much to offer, I forget to offer it to myself.

So although I can’t control who I end up falling in love with, I can remember to keep my love for myself burning strong. Because I should, I can, and I deserve it.

Pokemon lovers

So my roommates (my redheaded best friend Sally and her brother) make fun of my list of love interests by naming them after Pokemon. It’s gotten so bad that even a mention of someone I find attractive or interesting gets dubbed a name.The issue with this? I don’t even know Pokemon by name. So they get to keep tabs on this list and I struggle to follow. 

Pikachu: That one guy I always go back to no matter what. Problem? He’s 2,000 miles away. He also isn’t the best at expressing how he feels about me. We’ve known each other since we were 16, and ever since he’s maybe expressed to me he likes me a couple of times. Then a couple years ago called me crying, asking when we were ever going to be in the same place. I obviously couldn’t give him a direct answer. And he brought me to uncontrollable tears. I had never heard him talk that way, and I never thought I would. Ever. 

Just now, I got a text from him. Brother says, “Oh who’s that?” in his teasing voice. Redhead, “Pikachu?”

Yes, I say, knowing that there would be an onslaught of teasing to follow.

“Ohhhhhhh Pikachu?” Brother says, “So he’s still around?”

“Yeah, and I don’t know if that will ever go away.”

And of course, Sister, “SHE HASN’T RELEASED HIM!!”

“Oh my gosh.”

“OHHHHHHHH I see! So you haven’t used your thunderstone on him huh? Still isn’t Raichu?”

I swear, my roommates are nuts.

The stupid part about all this, I now refer to him as Pikachu because my roommates know right away who I’m talking about. Fuck my life.

Also, sidenote: One time he sent me a gif in a text. This one, Pikachu crying. I had NEVER mention Pokemon to him, let alone his nickname. FMLx2 pikachu crying