Saturday, December 13, 2008

VagMons!!!!


So, I'm going to be in the Vagina Monologues! Woooohoooo!!! Didn't have a clue about what it really was before I auditioned, but whatever. It's totally amazing and the cast is great too! Anywho - supposed to be working on my seminar paper...due on Monday...and has to be completely overhauled...joy joy...

Snacking on Antacids


Okay - so if you've seen those long, heart-felt depressing posts months ago, this is just to update - I'm over it...but here's some more stuff that I wrote...yeah, yeah, yeah...bear with it! Told ya I'm taking baby steps! Oh, completely random by the way...no particular beginning or end....

And the pain. Almost seemed surreal. Dry heaving, ripping you apart sort of pain you feel when you literally invest all of yourself in another person, and they say “Wow. All this for me? Great. Now fuck off.”

I remember when I was in college and was hurt by some guy (who makes a re-appearance later) and my dad was so sweet. He tried to talk to me about it. “How does your heart feel?” he asked. “Did he squeeze it, or break it?” And of course, I’m not remembering the wording correctly, because I have a terrible or terribly subjective memory, (take your pick) but it was a great analogy of sorts. “He squeezed it I guess. A little misshapen.”

But this? I visualize me, with eyes wide open and trusting, handing my beautiful, pulsating, almost glowing heart to a guy. And what does he do with my priceless gift? He says “Gee, thanks.” Hefts it for weight. Kind of bounces it around a bit. Throws it up in the air and catches it. And then, seeing that I’m a little tense at how he’s handling my fragile heart, cocks his head, looks me in the eye, and heaves it to the ground. He then proceeds to stomp on it with his right, then left foot, until he’s jumping on it with a sort of maniacal glee.

Obviously, my heart is not a rubber ball. And the results? Not pretty.

At first I was confused. Dazed really. Kind of in a numb, trance-like state. He doesn’t want me? And then I reasoned, he must be repressing his emotions because its all too much for him to handle. I mean, nothing else makes sense. Here I am, this totally amazing person. You must be crazy not to want me in your life.

But that’s what he was. A psycho nut-job.

Leave it to me to fall for him. Should have listened when he said he was one of the bad one’s. But no, that just drew me closer. Me and my stupid savior complex.

Monday, December 01, 2008

I'm Sprung

Just a little or a lot actually....hmmmmm....it's a delicious feeling...will tell more later...!

Friday, November 28, 2008

Baby Steps

Someone said show me your friends, and I’ll show you your character. But my friends are all completely different. What does that tell me other then the fact that I see life in shades of gray? That black and white are for the most part an illusion? That outside of inequality and injustice, there is very little to pretend I’m right about?

Friday, November 21, 2008

Freedom

It's time for me to once access my creative muse. May as well start here! Again. For the umpteempth time.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Vent

I find it amazing that I want to be around you so much, and yet I’m cognizant of the fact that you don’t feel the same. I want to reach out. Touch. Hold. Spend time with. But for what? I can’t help but see you as a reminder of my shortcomings. As a woman. Friend. Lover. Whatever. And you….hmmm….you are not capable of being what I want. Right? At least that’s what you’ve said. So, I’m torn between this inescapable conundrum of avoiding and yearning. Paradoxically, loving and hating the way I feel around you – about you. Struggling to maintain my façade. My game face as it were. Not showing the pain when your name comes up. Not showing the irrational jealousy that consumes me when I see you with another woman. Laughing. Touching. Hugging. Talking. Anything I’m no longer privy to. I definitely didn’t know it would be this hard. This difficult. Seeing you hurts. It reminds me of what we once had and what will never be. I have to let go. But it’s difficult. Difficult because you were my best friend of sorts. I have so many stories to share, things to laugh at, issues to discuss. But you’re not here. You said you would be. Said it’s on me. But I don’t think you’re capable of it either. I miss your touch. I want you to hold me while I cry about what a jerk you are. Want you to comfort me while I rant about how much you hurt me. But I don’t want to be that girl. And I don’t want to be so consumed with myself that I over burden you. You who have your own issues. And so I’m torn. Constantly fighting myself. Questioning myself. Wondering whether my underlying reasons are sound or just completely selfish.

I’m sorry about our friendship. Sorry that it’s gone. Sorry that I don’t completely regret what happened. Sorry that I can’t get over you that quickly. Sorry that I’m hurting. But most of all I’m sorry that it’s over.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Goodbye Blogger (For Now)

Hey - to those of you who still read this - I'm pretty much done blogging for now. Not because I don't have stories (I do!) but I just don't feel like it anymore...hmmmm....so, for my 1 or 2 diehard fans hoping I post something new...I probably won't for a while...


And - I don't know how long "a while" is going to be! So, in the words of one of my favorite authors -

Sunday, February 03, 2008

Sunday Morning

I'm up. Working on a brief due Monday. I refuse to work on it all day Sunday...so went to the library around 7:30pm. What a way to spend Saturday night...

Anywho, I'm in surprisingly good spirits considering the time and my last post. My Google quote of the day is

"How much easier it is to be critical than to be correct." - Disraeli

Rang a chord with me. Negativity never really got anyone anywhere. Well, except Sylvia Plath and the like...Hmmm....am I bipolar? lol...

GO GIANTS!!!! Boooooooooooooooooooooooooooo Patriots.....perfection is soooo overrated....lol...

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

More


Didn't think it would hurt this much. Or consume me this much. I like to tell myself that it will pass with time. And I'm sure it will. Eventually. But now.

Now it hurts. Hurts to realize that things have to change. Can't live in my dream world anymore. Have to let go. The tragic thing is that I don't know how much not being enough and loneliness contribute to my feelings.

Rejection. Couched in other terms. Feels the same. I just can't seem to get it right. I trust. Believe. Hope. Try to go with the flow. But it doesn't matter.

I want to be able to inspire passion. Companionship. Fun. Comfort. I just want to be loved. Just like everyone else I suppose. And of course, the ones you want never want you back, while there are others who would love to have your attention. Saying all the things you wish he was saying. But isn't.

I don't want to become calloused. Don't want to say "f$ck it" and settle for someone I don't want. I'm tired of being Ms. Commitment Phobe addicted to Mr. Unavailable.

I want more.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

GRADES!!!!!

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.........................................................................

Friday, January 11, 2008

Nothing Better to Do

Well, the holidays were good. Too short. Of course. And now back to school.... I'm now getting the "not caring" attitude. Actually - I already have it. It's great seeing everyone and hanging out, but studying??? Annoying.

One bright spot - going boarding this weekend. Classmate is celebrating her 25th in the mountains...kinda exciting. Nice to get away (even though I just got back). Anywho - life is far from interesting at this point. Or better yet, too interesting to write down ;o).

Oh, and do parents ever stop trying to guilt-trip you???!!! Mine are so incredibly irritating. Do they really think they can scare me into adhering to their belief system? Blah.

Did I mention that I'm a Leanne Rimes fan? Love her new CD.

Sunday, December 23, 2007

In Trinidad....

On vacation....back later...but in the meantime, I came across this while getting ready to write my essays for summer jobs...this was the start of my original lsac personal essay - but I was advised to change it and not shock the admissions officers...lol...can't remember if I had this up already or not...

Gazing at my surroundings, my heart beats frantically. My breaths hitch as my eyes dart around nervously like a deer caught in someone’s headlights. I am petrified. The year is 1996. Our group arrived in St. Louis the night before for my first United Youth Congress – a denominational gathering that occurs every 4 years. The morning is vibrant with excitement and promise. As I walk eagerly into the Dome, my steps falter until I stop completely. A cold clammy feeling encases me.

The place is teeming with black people.

Whenever I relate the above experience to others, I am usually confronted with shock, disbelief and/or laughter. After all, I am black. Few can understand the idea that I was afraid of my own race.

Growing up in an immigrant household in the United States, and as one of two black girls in my classes was instrumental in shaping my perspective at that age. By 14 I had given up wanting to have blonde hair and blue eyes, but my interaction with other blacks, particularly Americans, had been limited to church.

At this period of my life I teetered between false snobbery and serious insecurity. I always knew I was considered “gifted” from an early age. Getting good grades was easy for me. Winning my elementary spelling bee at 10 only served to enhance my pride. I was inundated with accolades from teachers – pats on the head when I performed. The phrase “you’re not like other black children” was constant. And I doted on it. I was special. My parents were Trinidadian. They weren’t weighted down with the repressed mentality or search for identity so often associated with African-Americans. I was different and better than my peers.

Or so I thought. By the time 1996 had rolled around I was more comfortable with my race, but only those I knew from church or school. I was the only black girl in school to hang out with the “Goths”, Latinos, Asians, Christians and “nerds” alike.

Encountering a host of black youth made me feel intensely insecure and unsure of how to behave. Should I try to adopt the popular slang that was never allowed at home? Teasing from my black peers about being “white” or never “black enough” haunted me.

Initially, it was a terrifying experience. However, it became one of the most important experiences in my life. By the time I left St. Louis, I was in love with blackness – the struggle, strength and variety of it. I realized that though the media and my environment presented powerful forces in shaping stereotypes, I could choose not to accept their negative influences.

Monday, December 17, 2007

I feel like I've just been violated. Ks sucked. It wasn't even that it was terribly difficult per se, after a while I just had nothing more to say. At all. I was waiting for the time to be up, while my classmates were scurrying around the statutes and furiously typing their treatises.

I sat there and wondered what they were typing...

Not good.

Saturday, December 08, 2007

Letter to 13 year-old Me

So, I was tagged by CiC to write a letter to my 13 year-old self. I tried to keep it short, but thats up for you guys to decide. Anywho, it was definitely fun to write...if you get a chance you should do it...

Here goes:

Dear Young Idealistic and Self-Righteous Me,

The year is 1995. You’ve made it through your first half of freshman year. You thought you’d be miserable in a new state and school. But you’ve begun reinventing yourself. No one here knows anything about you. Soon you’ll have your first sip of Jack Daniels from your friend who has a stash of bottles in her room. In a couple of months you’ll be caught up in a huge school riot where your classmates are beating your teachers.

It’s scary, but you’ll find it interesting, so not like private school. The people are different and you are not teased and made fun of – here you find your place and hang out with totally random groups. You’re gonna play tennis soon, and later recall the games at Columbine and how you and your classmates used to envy them.

But as soon as that year ends you head back to California. You cry and promise to write your friends. Back to that private school where no one knows you’ve changed, and you quickly revert to that same totally awkward, shy girl. You’ll also get braces soon, which doesn’t help with the slouching, glasses and nerd moniker.

High school will fly by as your parents beg and borrow to keep you in Christian school – junior year at another public school and senior year back at the academy. The guys at church will call you the Ice Princess and other names. But you’ll wrap yourself up in self-righteousness and being a “good girl” because it helps you cope.

After graduation you go to Trinidad for your freshman year of college. It will be one of the best decisions you make. You lose the braces, cut the hair and fly off to the Caribbean. All of a sudden you are hot stuff – still shy, but American and exotic. You grow. You date. Meet a tortured soul poet right before you transfer to a college in Alabama.

But still – no first kiss. Make a pact with your cousin to get your kiss by the end of the semester. And you do. He’s 26, you’re 18. You’re bold. Excited. The next day you’ll decide that you don’t like him and tell him that this is not going to work.

For the next year or so you have fun. You totally enjoy school and your friends. You “talk” to different men. You are on this quest of turning guy friends into more. It never works, and you’re always losing friendships. But you’re still very much a prude.

You go back to Trinidad and meet up with the poet. Your minds connect and you have the greatest 2 weeks just being with him. Making out. Writing. He writes songs for you. Totally infatuated. Ignoring everything and everyone else. He gives you a “promise” ring. You’re 19. He’s 25. You think it’s perfect. He’s perfect. He’s not. He will subsequently try dating your sister and cursing you out in a very eloquent but terrible way. You’ll never talk to him again.

Almost immediately afterwards you start robbing the cradle with the juvenile. It will be fun for a while. But you know it will never last. Just enjoy the ride. You’ll also be interested in your best friend’s brother. Save yourself a huge amount of heartache and wasted years - leave him alone. He will not be good for you. Not only will your self-esteem be torn to shreds but partly because of him you visit the Asshole. The older married male cousin who unlocks the bathroom door while you’re in the shower and wants to have sex with you. This will not be a good time. But you’ll get through it. While losing a lot of your naiveté.

Fast forward to recent times. You’ve finished your MPH, worked for a while, traveled, jumped on a plane by yourself and stayed in Guatemala for a couple months, and grown. You’re no longer a strong adherent to the Christian faith. But you’re happy. Content. You’re in law school. I know – total shock. But you’ve come full circle and realized this is where you want to be.

You are about to embark on your first final in a couple days, while dealing with the fact that the guy you finally let introduce you to X doesn’t want to be in a relationship with you. It’s tough. But you knew that from the outset. I still have to see how that plays out, but you’re strong.

Just know that being a people-pleaser is not a good thing. You have to live for yourself. Love yourself. Don’t allow other people’s opinions dictate what you do. Let go guilt for not living up to others standards. Be humble. Understanding. Trust yourself. You’re rarely wrong.

The great thing is, once you get to where I am now, you won’t have any regrets.

Live passionately and enjoy.

Love,
YOU

Friday, November 30, 2007

Retraction

I lied.

I'm not fine. I'm a hott mess. I cried myself to sleep last night.

Oh, and did I mention that I'm delusional and emotionally immature?

His grandmom died.

Along with some other things that I won't even begin to write about.

Dude, I felt like a total loser. And so incredibly self-involved.

My mind is not a pleasant place to be....and before you think I'm a lost cause - I am PMSing...(wink) - so there...!

Thursday, November 29, 2007

When He Is Who He Says He Is

On top of dealing with the the looming threat of finals, I'm having issues in the relationship department.

What relationship?

Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not in one. But I'm still dealing with issues like I am.

He told me who he was and what he was about in the beginning. Eyes wide open. And I believed him. Thing is, I underestimated MY ability to deal with things. I'm relatively okay, but he's not. And now he's acting very "relationshipy" and weird.

The irony is killing me. And the issue is bugging the hell out of me. Since - HE doesn't want to communicate anymore.

I'm a big girl. And you're a man. Let's get it together....

Friday, November 16, 2007

Thanksgiving BREAK!!!

Done with the memo and done with class in 30 seconds...

On to sleep.

Then outlining.

And possibly other things....

I'll catch up later.

Monday, November 05, 2007

I love you, but I don't have time

I.want.to.sleep.

Forever.

Why did I come to law school again?

This morning a certain row was called on to brief a case - and the first guy told the teacher that he had a hell of a week. The second person couldn't answer and neither could the third. Someone told her that we had a memo due this morning.

Her response?

"It's Monday." Pause. "Do you know how many credits this course is?"

Held up 4 fingers.

Then -

"Do you know many credits legal writing is?"

2 Fingers.

"Priorities."

Monday, October 29, 2007

I've finally....

Cleaned my room - in its entirety!!!! Whooooohooooo....I was totally productive this weekend ;o)

Probably helps that my folks are coming to visit.