hilarious ;)
so, does this mean in the future, you will refrain from interrupting people's normal conversations with your "dumb" libido motivated comments?
;)
xxx
s.
---------- Original Message ----------------------------------
From: Dario
Date: Wed, 9 Mar 2005 15:33:38 -0500
>
www.illwillpress.com/vault.html
>
>check out rant V the first on the upper left
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Monday, March 07, 2005
sunday...bloody sunday...
40 years ago - today...was what they call "Bloody Sunday" (wait..today is Monday...did I hear this newscast yesterday?)
Anyway. here a quick memory refresh:
Monday marks the 40th anniversary of the infamous "Bloody Sunday" in Alabama, when hundreds of civil rights demonstrators -- black and white -- were brutally beaten as they attempted to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Ala. The incident and the subsequent march led by the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. influenced the signing of the 1965 Voting Rights Act.
More info and the audio at:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4525046
Anyway. here a quick memory refresh:
Monday marks the 40th anniversary of the infamous "Bloody Sunday" in Alabama, when hundreds of civil rights demonstrators -- black and white -- were brutally beaten as they attempted to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Ala. The incident and the subsequent march led by the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. influenced the signing of the 1965 Voting Rights Act.
More info and the audio at:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4525046
Saturday, March 05, 2005
America of extreme expression
an old highschool friend of dario's called the other day... one of the ones that didn't get killed, landed in prison, or went the wrong turn somewhere else. Every day I am upset about the way this school-system has failed (and still does) its students. But this is another story (which I might blog later).
I just wanted to talk about a curious cultural difference I completely forgot about until this old friend of ours called. He's actually a really nice guy. He must be about 28 now. Has three kids. The youngest is 6.
Anyway,...I am getting off the subject again... I'm such a fan of life...
So, as he ends his conversation with me he says,
"ok, then... Love you guys!"
to which I answered fumbling for words for a moment: "oooh,...we miss you, too".
I was embarrassed to have not been able to return the sentiment. This actually happens to me often. My very good girl-friends tell me this sometimes, and usually I manage to say it back but only because I feel put on a spot. And it's not that I don't feel deeply for my friends and that I wouldn't literally cut my hand off for them (is this an English phrase?...). What I mean is that I would give my life for my friends. ...Now, having said that I wonder ... why is it then so hard for me to tell them that I love them. Maybe it's because I just didn't have enough female presence in my teenage years (having grown up with my father and two brothers), maybe it's just me, ... but really I think, it's a cultural difference.
Austrians just don't do that. They don't tell each other this easily that they love each other. In fact, I don't even remember hearing this from my dad that often even though I know, how important we were to him. He actually refused to get divorced unless he gets custody of the kids.
I remember when I first came to the US, as an au-pair. I lived with this family in a suburb of San Diego and the woman came home the first night telling me that she was "starving to death". I was in shock. How could she say something like that, I wondered. How self-absorbed was this woman, with her house, her pool, and her 3 cars? Did she not know how many people on this planet were/are ACTUALLY starving to death? Obviously, today I use the word starve all the time...although, I must say, ...by the time I usually find time to get a bite to eat I really am "staarving". ;)
Other expressions, which would alienate a foreigner are:
"I HATE xyz." ( -> hate is a really strong word. I don't think I ever used it in the German language...except for maybe describing Hitler or the like.)
"fuck this" (fuck... in German everyday language? forget it...haven't heard this ever. It was very shocking to me when my au-pair host-mother used the word for the first time. ..I could understand...maybe the youngsters...but a grown, college-educated woman?? ...today, this is one of my favorite curse-words to vent with. ;)
"motherfucker" (this is probably the worst one. there is just no way you could say this in German... I mean LOOK AT IT!... I only use this word in two phrases:
"stupid mf." and "sexy mf.". The latter is hardly every used, for I am veeery picky when it comes to men.
As you can see, cursing isn't very popular in the German language. The words exist but only the mild ones are really used. And the more education you have the less you will curse but ..duh...that's pretty much the same here, isn't it? ..except for that "f" word. People looove the "f"-word no matter how high up they are.
Obviously, the above are just my personal observations. Maybe they are not true?
Maybe they just applied to my time growing up in Austria. Maybe things have changed.
Heck, they even have cheap talk-shows on TV there now. They also have more than 2 state-channels now and privately owned radio-stations (well, that's been for a while now). So, ... things have certainly changed.
I just wanted to talk about a curious cultural difference I completely forgot about until this old friend of ours called. He's actually a really nice guy. He must be about 28 now. Has three kids. The youngest is 6.
Anyway,...I am getting off the subject again... I'm such a fan of life...
So, as he ends his conversation with me he says,
"ok, then... Love you guys!"
to which I answered fumbling for words for a moment: "oooh,...we miss you, too".
I was embarrassed to have not been able to return the sentiment. This actually happens to me often. My very good girl-friends tell me this sometimes, and usually I manage to say it back but only because I feel put on a spot. And it's not that I don't feel deeply for my friends and that I wouldn't literally cut my hand off for them (is this an English phrase?...). What I mean is that I would give my life for my friends. ...Now, having said that I wonder ... why is it then so hard for me to tell them that I love them. Maybe it's because I just didn't have enough female presence in my teenage years (having grown up with my father and two brothers), maybe it's just me, ... but really I think, it's a cultural difference.
Austrians just don't do that. They don't tell each other this easily that they love each other. In fact, I don't even remember hearing this from my dad that often even though I know, how important we were to him. He actually refused to get divorced unless he gets custody of the kids.
I remember when I first came to the US, as an au-pair. I lived with this family in a suburb of San Diego and the woman came home the first night telling me that she was "starving to death". I was in shock. How could she say something like that, I wondered. How self-absorbed was this woman, with her house, her pool, and her 3 cars? Did she not know how many people on this planet were/are ACTUALLY starving to death? Obviously, today I use the word starve all the time...although, I must say, ...by the time I usually find time to get a bite to eat I really am "staarving". ;)
Other expressions, which would alienate a foreigner are:
"I HATE xyz." ( -> hate is a really strong word. I don't think I ever used it in the German language...except for maybe describing Hitler or the like.)
"fuck this" (fuck... in German everyday language? forget it...haven't heard this ever. It was very shocking to me when my au-pair host-mother used the word for the first time. ..I could understand...maybe the youngsters...but a grown, college-educated woman?? ...today, this is one of my favorite curse-words to vent with. ;)
"motherfucker" (this is probably the worst one. there is just no way you could say this in German... I mean LOOK AT IT!... I only use this word in two phrases:
"stupid mf." and "sexy mf.". The latter is hardly every used, for I am veeery picky when it comes to men.
As you can see, cursing isn't very popular in the German language. The words exist but only the mild ones are really used. And the more education you have the less you will curse but ..duh...that's pretty much the same here, isn't it? ..except for that "f" word. People looove the "f"-word no matter how high up they are.
Obviously, the above are just my personal observations. Maybe they are not true?
Maybe they just applied to my time growing up in Austria. Maybe things have changed.
Heck, they even have cheap talk-shows on TV there now. They also have more than 2 state-channels now and privately owned radio-stations (well, that's been for a while now). So, ... things have certainly changed.
Friday, March 04, 2005
who is to blame?
Dario is pissing me off. I asked him if he'd be ok if I go to the Dominican Republic with my girlfriends for a few days. Plain out, said no. First he was honest about his problem ... all he can think of is me in the DR, with a bunch of his own people, apparently the horniest folk on this planet.
So, what the f does that mean? I cannot be trusted to go there? All I want is a long weekend with my book on the beach. I don't care about anybody or anything social. I just want to be on the beach. Water, sun or actually preferrably shade, and my books. Maybe a couple of horse-back riding trips and long unimportant chats with my girlfriends.
But no, he can't have it. And after he realized that his first reason was kind of offensive to me, he made up other excuses. He ended his argument with the fact that he had been wanting to go on such trips way before I did.
So? What is your point? ... I have never been in the way of these plans. Have given him the go-ahead with every single one of them, including the trips he wanted to make to Miami Beach at Spring Break and we all know why people go there at this time of year.
If it weren't for me he wouldn't be traveling anywhere, simply because he doesn't organize shit. Oh, I'm so pissed off.
And now he's telling me that I have wasted his whole vacation time with the trip I am planning to Austria. DON'T blame me! I asked you before I booked, if you wanted to go and you said yes. Now he is telling me, he never wanted to go and he's said that before. Point is, I asked him before I booked anything and he said yes. He just cannot blame me for messing up his traveling plans now. But he does. And it makes me feel like shit because I don't EVER want to be accused of making someone do something they do not want to do.
It's like one of my pillars of relationship ettiquette. Right next to honesty and loyality and all that shit.
ok. I am cursing to much.
I'll stop bitching now.
It seems that we like to blame our partners for our unaccomplished shit sometimes. I, myself, would like to blame Dario for a thing or two. Things I haven't done or accomplished due to his passive-aggressive behavior. I don't need much to be steered off the things I would like to do. I am such a f-ing push-over.
But here I go, I am blaming him...when REALLY I shouldn't, for it is my own fault. WE are responsible for our own happiness.
Although, by not being ok with me going to DR now, he IS to blame for my unfulfilled happiness.) ;) shit. can't apply my general Zen formula today.
So, what the f does that mean? I cannot be trusted to go there? All I want is a long weekend with my book on the beach. I don't care about anybody or anything social. I just want to be on the beach. Water, sun or actually preferrably shade, and my books. Maybe a couple of horse-back riding trips and long unimportant chats with my girlfriends.
But no, he can't have it. And after he realized that his first reason was kind of offensive to me, he made up other excuses. He ended his argument with the fact that he had been wanting to go on such trips way before I did.
So? What is your point? ... I have never been in the way of these plans. Have given him the go-ahead with every single one of them, including the trips he wanted to make to Miami Beach at Spring Break and we all know why people go there at this time of year.
If it weren't for me he wouldn't be traveling anywhere, simply because he doesn't organize shit. Oh, I'm so pissed off.
And now he's telling me that I have wasted his whole vacation time with the trip I am planning to Austria. DON'T blame me! I asked you before I booked, if you wanted to go and you said yes. Now he is telling me, he never wanted to go and he's said that before. Point is, I asked him before I booked anything and he said yes. He just cannot blame me for messing up his traveling plans now. But he does. And it makes me feel like shit because I don't EVER want to be accused of making someone do something they do not want to do.
It's like one of my pillars of relationship ettiquette. Right next to honesty and loyality and all that shit.
ok. I am cursing to much.
I'll stop bitching now.
It seems that we like to blame our partners for our unaccomplished shit sometimes. I, myself, would like to blame Dario for a thing or two. Things I haven't done or accomplished due to his passive-aggressive behavior. I don't need much to be steered off the things I would like to do. I am such a f-ing push-over.
But here I go, I am blaming him...when REALLY I shouldn't, for it is my own fault. WE are responsible for our own happiness.
Although, by not being ok with me going to DR now, he IS to blame for my unfulfilled happiness.) ;) shit. can't apply my general Zen formula today.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
can men and women be friends?
well, given the fact that a lot of my friends are guys and when I was younger most of them were (what can I say, I always was kind of a tomboy) I should answer this question with a YES. And I am .. but I am saying this with the awareness of the fact that even though women can have male "friends", most of those "friends" would probably like to have sex with her and/or would do so if circumstances would allow so.
This post is for a particular friend of mine. He is just too freaked out by the fact that he might like me and thus cannot be friends with me (out of loyality to Dario, I suppose). Why not? Most of my very good male friends used to have a crush on me. It's OK! Nobody cares.
Now, if I were a slut..then this would be a problem. Fortunately, I am not. ... In fact, even if I were single, I wouldn't be with ANY of my male friends. This is why those relationships work for me. I have no (sexual) interest in them whatsoever. I like them as people...no gender attached.
One of my best friends, Vern, actually told Dario himself that he used to have a crush on me. He could have kept that to himself but I agree with him ... it's no big deal.... as long as nobody acts on it... geez,..I mean, I know this guy so long, ...he used to have a crush on a new girl every other week. ;) Lucky man. Or ...just 'man'? ... I can't even remember the last time I had a crush on anyone.
Actually that's not true... but really, it takes years for me to meet another person I find attractive ... if this is the case I usually don't mingle with them at all.... I'm too aware of danger. Don't want to get in a mess.
Dario on the other hand seems to have no problem hanging out with girls he likes.
AAAAAAAAAASSSSSHHOOOOOOOLEEEEEEEEE. ( <- obviously, I appear to have some latent and unresolved issues here).
;)
well, so ... to my dear friend, who I miss a lot (AS A FRIEND!) ... get over it already and please, let's talk again...and hang out like we used to.
Friendship can be a beautiful thing. Even with a female. Try it. ;)
This post is for a particular friend of mine. He is just too freaked out by the fact that he might like me and thus cannot be friends with me (out of loyality to Dario, I suppose). Why not? Most of my very good male friends used to have a crush on me. It's OK! Nobody cares.
Now, if I were a slut..then this would be a problem. Fortunately, I am not. ... In fact, even if I were single, I wouldn't be with ANY of my male friends. This is why those relationships work for me. I have no (sexual) interest in them whatsoever. I like them as people...no gender attached.
One of my best friends, Vern, actually told Dario himself that he used to have a crush on me. He could have kept that to himself but I agree with him ... it's no big deal.... as long as nobody acts on it... geez,..I mean, I know this guy so long, ...he used to have a crush on a new girl every other week. ;) Lucky man. Or ...just 'man'? ... I can't even remember the last time I had a crush on anyone.
Actually that's not true... but really, it takes years for me to meet another person I find attractive ... if this is the case I usually don't mingle with them at all.... I'm too aware of danger. Don't want to get in a mess.
Dario on the other hand seems to have no problem hanging out with girls he likes.
AAAAAAAAAASSSSSHHOOOOOOOLEEEEEEEEE. ( <- obviously, I appear to have some latent and unresolved issues here).
;)
well, so ... to my dear friend, who I miss a lot (AS A FRIEND!) ... get over it already and please, let's talk again...and hang out like we used to.
Friendship can be a beautiful thing. Even with a female. Try it. ;)
Monday, February 28, 2005
Saturday, February 26, 2005
saw mos def, alicia keys, and my other peeps
ok. they're not my peeps, but I did see them at an occasion I find myself most lucky to have been able to attend. The DEF Poetry Jam 2005. got tickets for the HBO taping of this show as a birthday treat for my friend Tricky but he knows as well as I do that these tix were just as much a treat for me as they were for him.
so, we took thursday off and made our way downtown to stand in line for an hour and a half in the freezing cold. wasn't too bad though; got to talk to one of the bouncers who had the most interesting life story... came here as a kid from Cuba, enjoyed a still strict school system, was a cop for 11 years, quit when his partner and he were shot in the head during an undercover operation, became a high-school teacher, now teaches junior high and works as a bouncer, has 3 kids; ... he told us a lot of stories from his time as a cop and as a teacher. the one I remember most is the one of this guy he used to look up to when he was in school himself. he used to enviously watch him through the window, hanging out in his fancy clothes talking to the girls while he himself was stuck in class. oh, how much he wanted to be him.
10 years later. one of his first arrests. the skinny man with the sunken eyes he puts handcuffs on for drugs-dealing looks very familiar. he looks up his file. it is no other than the fancy, class-cutting guy he remembered from his school-days.
although my toes were frozen little stubs I was happy with anticipation. bouncer-man had told us about the even colder wait the night before and how Alicia Keys herself had come out to sing to the crowd. so I waited in great anticipation, hoping she'd have mercy on this crowd, too and come out to sing. ... but I guess, it wasn't cold enough...
once they finally let us in, the room was almost full (it was the Supper Club on 47th Street). ushers hecticly seated people according to some system I didn't get.
"anywhere but the stage", I told Tricky.
"you two!" one of the head-ushers called "on the stage!"
shit, now I'm going to be all self-conscious [about the fat-belly-exposing-boob-misaligning-shirt I had unhappily chosen due to laundry day], I thought.
so, I kept my coat on for most of the show. ... now I realize, this must have looked strange and probably must have drawn more attention than if I had taken it off. Oh, well, ... so I'm going to look stupid on HBO...whaaatever.
either way, I had a fantastic time! Almost all of the poets were excellent. the creme de la creme, so to say. Mos Def was/is a cutiiiie-pie, although he probably wouldn't want to be called that. I guess, no man really wants to be called that.
this is why I resisted my very strong urge to shout out how cute he was, or tell him about the CUTENESS of his dimples, when I strategically moved him around the stage to get enough light for my picture of him (after the show).
what I like about his is that he is just so totally himself... so relaxed, ...and come to think about it...exactly the things I sometimes want to slap Dario for. ...like when he wears his cap crooked (in a really ghetto/highschool kinda way). ;) I guess, it's all ok, as long as the person isn't affiliated with me... otherwise I just don't get myself.
Another example is 50cent. Love him. Like his music and his whole style but would never go out with someone like that, of course. Dario isn't even allowed to wear a bandana around me. ;)
so, .. that's my recount of my wonderful DEF poetry jam experience.
Alicia Keys was there, too, by the way. She did a piece of her new book, which I didn't know she wrote. no singing, though, and that's what I really love. Her voice is magic.
ok. I should be working.
oh, but first I'm going to attach a picture ... the one I took of Mos Def. :)
so, we took thursday off and made our way downtown to stand in line for an hour and a half in the freezing cold. wasn't too bad though; got to talk to one of the bouncers who had the most interesting life story... came here as a kid from Cuba, enjoyed a still strict school system, was a cop for 11 years, quit when his partner and he were shot in the head during an undercover operation, became a high-school teacher, now teaches junior high and works as a bouncer, has 3 kids; ... he told us a lot of stories from his time as a cop and as a teacher. the one I remember most is the one of this guy he used to look up to when he was in school himself. he used to enviously watch him through the window, hanging out in his fancy clothes talking to the girls while he himself was stuck in class. oh, how much he wanted to be him.
10 years later. one of his first arrests. the skinny man with the sunken eyes he puts handcuffs on for drugs-dealing looks very familiar. he looks up his file. it is no other than the fancy, class-cutting guy he remembered from his school-days.
although my toes were frozen little stubs I was happy with anticipation. bouncer-man had told us about the even colder wait the night before and how Alicia Keys herself had come out to sing to the crowd. so I waited in great anticipation, hoping she'd have mercy on this crowd, too and come out to sing. ... but I guess, it wasn't cold enough...
once they finally let us in, the room was almost full (it was the Supper Club on 47th Street). ushers hecticly seated people according to some system I didn't get.
"anywhere but the stage", I told Tricky.
"you two!" one of the head-ushers called "on the stage!"
shit, now I'm going to be all self-conscious [about the fat-belly-exposing-boob-misaligning-shirt I had unhappily chosen due to laundry day], I thought.
so, I kept my coat on for most of the show. ... now I realize, this must have looked strange and probably must have drawn more attention than if I had taken it off. Oh, well, ... so I'm going to look stupid on HBO...whaaatever.
either way, I had a fantastic time! Almost all of the poets were excellent. the creme de la creme, so to say. Mos Def was/is a cutiiiie-pie, although he probably wouldn't want to be called that. I guess, no man really wants to be called that.
this is why I resisted my very strong urge to shout out how cute he was, or tell him about the CUTENESS of his dimples, when I strategically moved him around the stage to get enough light for my picture of him (after the show).
what I like about his is that he is just so totally himself... so relaxed, ...and come to think about it...exactly the things I sometimes want to slap Dario for. ...like when he wears his cap crooked (in a really ghetto/highschool kinda way). ;) I guess, it's all ok, as long as the person isn't affiliated with me... otherwise I just don't get myself.
Another example is 50cent. Love him. Like his music and his whole style but would never go out with someone like that, of course. Dario isn't even allowed to wear a bandana around me. ;)
so, .. that's my recount of my wonderful DEF poetry jam experience.
Alicia Keys was there, too, by the way. She did a piece of her new book, which I didn't know she wrote. no singing, though, and that's what I really love. Her voice is magic.
ok. I should be working.
oh, but first I'm going to attach a picture ... the one I took of Mos Def. :)
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
no more sex on Valentine's
the headline might be misleading. it is not the caption for a sex-story with a bad ending but the mere statement of what we have come to (and I don't mean this in a sexual sense;)
I remember, before we had two kids, I used to make Valentine's Day special. Despite Dario never being able to keep up with romantic display (at our first Valentine together he gave me a TV and VCR - granted I had just moved into a new place...I would have been very happy with flowers and a CARD.... just couldn't get all sweet about a TV).
Back then I would march to the lingerie store every Valentine's Day and get something special...not just some new underwear, but some sort of stupid clichee porn-scene inspired outfit. All outfits were equally uncomfortable (e.g. who wants to have a chain thong up ther a**) but D certainly had a happy grin on his face when I performed clumsy striptease to Missy Elliot or Lil' Kim. Sometimes I would bake a heart-shaped cake (shut up, I know it's corny). I'd always get flowers, and I'd make sure we had a candle light dinner....no matter who much D complained about the flickering light bothering his eyes and that he would prefer to clearly see what he is eating.
Only thing remaining from these special Valentine's Days is the candle-light dinner. And the meal wasn't really self-prepared either but came out of a bag (I recommend : Skillet Sensations!).
By the end of the meal it was almost 11pm and after cleaning up and preparing Maia's school stuff for the next day, we more or less fell into bed too tired to even make out. We somewhat managed to move closer and somewhat hug each other while we fell asleep, which by the way only took minutes.
We gotta get more sleep. But last weekend was a killer. On Sunday Dario worked 19 hours straight while I was taking care of the girls all day and through a rough night. D came home at 5.30 in the morning and naturally couldn't get up with Maia as he usually does. So at 7 am I had to get up with Maia, after a whole night of no more than two consecutive hours of sleep.
oh well, hopefully the old days will come back in some form.
At least, it's not only me anymore who is too tired to get it on (i.e. always the one asking for an extra day).
I remember, before we had two kids, I used to make Valentine's Day special. Despite Dario never being able to keep up with romantic display (at our first Valentine together he gave me a TV and VCR - granted I had just moved into a new place...I would have been very happy with flowers and a CARD.... just couldn't get all sweet about a TV).
Back then I would march to the lingerie store every Valentine's Day and get something special...not just some new underwear, but some sort of stupid clichee porn-scene inspired outfit. All outfits were equally uncomfortable (e.g. who wants to have a chain thong up ther a**) but D certainly had a happy grin on his face when I performed clumsy striptease to Missy Elliot or Lil' Kim. Sometimes I would bake a heart-shaped cake (shut up, I know it's corny). I'd always get flowers, and I'd make sure we had a candle light dinner....no matter who much D complained about the flickering light bothering his eyes and that he would prefer to clearly see what he is eating.
Only thing remaining from these special Valentine's Days is the candle-light dinner. And the meal wasn't really self-prepared either but came out of a bag (I recommend : Skillet Sensations!).
By the end of the meal it was almost 11pm and after cleaning up and preparing Maia's school stuff for the next day, we more or less fell into bed too tired to even make out. We somewhat managed to move closer and somewhat hug each other while we fell asleep, which by the way only took minutes.
We gotta get more sleep. But last weekend was a killer. On Sunday Dario worked 19 hours straight while I was taking care of the girls all day and through a rough night. D came home at 5.30 in the morning and naturally couldn't get up with Maia as he usually does. So at 7 am I had to get up with Maia, after a whole night of no more than two consecutive hours of sleep.
oh well, hopefully the old days will come back in some form.
At least, it's not only me anymore who is too tired to get it on (i.e. always the one asking for an extra day).
Monday, February 14, 2005
that quote I found
so, turns out that quote I found the other day was first introduced as a serenity prayer for AA. oh well, either way, it couldn't have applied more to my situation.
just saying.
just saying.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
the power of 3-year olds
3 year-olds have an amazing power over the nerves of their parents, and if this isn't the case then I really suck at this motherhood thing. I'm probably not the worst mother of all but I am definitely no Brady-Bunch mom either. I am so afraid to alienate my daughter one day. Now she is still little and doesn't hold a grudge, wants to make up, etc. ... every quarrel is a short-lived emotion. It's a rollercoaster ride all day long and that is what eventually will get to your nerves.
Maia can go from perfectly happy, to screaming tantrum, to angry spasms, and back to perfectly happy in a timeframe of just a few minutes. It is amazing. The key variable in each hurdle of the day is my reaction to her behavior. Needless to say, if I manage to stay calm, collected, cool and above all things any tantrum can be handled and taken care of (i.e. Maia back to cooperative behavior) within 10-15 min. max. If I, however, as I do so often when cranky, sleep-deprived, hungry (and I am talking about Maia AND me), lose my cool or refuse to sweet-talk her then we're doomed. Things just go spiraling down when I can't get my stubborn mouth open and remain the adult in the situation. Unless you have a 3 year old you will probably not understand.
It is unbelievable what power they can get over you and your behavior.
This is why it is best to always read a lot and talk to other (better) parents. Reading helps me remember why they do what they do and how perfectly normal it is and keeping in touch with other (seemingly more collected) parents keeps me connected to people that I can call to take my toddler for a few minutes before I jump out the window.
Dario at work all f-ing weekend long isn't helping. Rosa calls me a weekend-widow. I am just resentful.
When by noon, Maia was in the middle of her first major tantrum of the day, while I was trying to feed a tired baby I began to wondered how I could possibly get out of this situation only to realize that there was no way out. Leaving Dario wouldn't change a thing, for I would (despite all parenting stress) not be able to live without my girls, thus former situation would remain the same all week long.
However, there would me no resentment towards Dario (being absent) and I would probably handle things better. Divorced moms often confirm that things got easier after leaving, even though they had the kids by themselves. It's something about a mindset. You're on your own that's it. No expectations of anyone else. You just deal with the situation.
And since I am in a similar situation - one that I cannot change - I better learn how to deal with it. A little later, I stumbled upon a piece of embroidered cloth Dario had been holding on to for years. Someone gave it to him when he was still a teenager, after his father had passed away. I never actually read what the sewn on quote said but I knew it was something religious, since I could make out the word "God". Non-religious as I am I was never interested enough to open the cloth to see what it said. Today, however, I unfolded the cloth and read it in hope for a sign or some inspiration or something. I'm really not sure why I opened it, the latter is just my explanation of how my subconscious might have been at work.
This is what it said:
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change those things I can and wisdom to know the difference."
I couldn't believe the appropriateness of the quote at this very moment, this day. I left the cloth unfolded and put it on the counter. I didn't feel much better about my situation but I felt grounded and not alone.
A little while later, and I am not kidding (!), I turned on NPR and the moderator is reading this exact same quote. Apparently it was a quote by Reinhold Nipur (spelling?), some Christian realist of the mid-20th century, who inspired a whole bunch of people (religious, agnostic, political, etc.).
My life saver today was Rosa. She took Maia upstairs to play with Lucas for the rest of the afternoon. I felt like a failure but I was glad Maia got the treatment she deserved. Loving, patient treatment. She is only 3 years old!
Later on I took her to the playground and my night-time readings were pure reflections of my guilt "Mama, Do you Love Me?", "Always, CopyCub", and "How do you Feel?". Why couldn't I just talk about the day? Well, not tonight... but I communicated via her bedtime stories and I think she got it.
God give me strength and PLEASE...more patience.
Thanks.
Maia can go from perfectly happy, to screaming tantrum, to angry spasms, and back to perfectly happy in a timeframe of just a few minutes. It is amazing. The key variable in each hurdle of the day is my reaction to her behavior. Needless to say, if I manage to stay calm, collected, cool and above all things any tantrum can be handled and taken care of (i.e. Maia back to cooperative behavior) within 10-15 min. max. If I, however, as I do so often when cranky, sleep-deprived, hungry (and I am talking about Maia AND me), lose my cool or refuse to sweet-talk her then we're doomed. Things just go spiraling down when I can't get my stubborn mouth open and remain the adult in the situation. Unless you have a 3 year old you will probably not understand.
It is unbelievable what power they can get over you and your behavior.
This is why it is best to always read a lot and talk to other (better) parents. Reading helps me remember why they do what they do and how perfectly normal it is and keeping in touch with other (seemingly more collected) parents keeps me connected to people that I can call to take my toddler for a few minutes before I jump out the window.
Dario at work all f-ing weekend long isn't helping. Rosa calls me a weekend-widow. I am just resentful.
When by noon, Maia was in the middle of her first major tantrum of the day, while I was trying to feed a tired baby I began to wondered how I could possibly get out of this situation only to realize that there was no way out. Leaving Dario wouldn't change a thing, for I would (despite all parenting stress) not be able to live without my girls, thus former situation would remain the same all week long.
However, there would me no resentment towards Dario (being absent) and I would probably handle things better. Divorced moms often confirm that things got easier after leaving, even though they had the kids by themselves. It's something about a mindset. You're on your own that's it. No expectations of anyone else. You just deal with the situation.
And since I am in a similar situation - one that I cannot change - I better learn how to deal with it. A little later, I stumbled upon a piece of embroidered cloth Dario had been holding on to for years. Someone gave it to him when he was still a teenager, after his father had passed away. I never actually read what the sewn on quote said but I knew it was something religious, since I could make out the word "God". Non-religious as I am I was never interested enough to open the cloth to see what it said. Today, however, I unfolded the cloth and read it in hope for a sign or some inspiration or something. I'm really not sure why I opened it, the latter is just my explanation of how my subconscious might have been at work.
This is what it said:
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change those things I can and wisdom to know the difference."
I couldn't believe the appropriateness of the quote at this very moment, this day. I left the cloth unfolded and put it on the counter. I didn't feel much better about my situation but I felt grounded and not alone.
A little while later, and I am not kidding (!), I turned on NPR and the moderator is reading this exact same quote. Apparently it was a quote by Reinhold Nipur (spelling?), some Christian realist of the mid-20th century, who inspired a whole bunch of people (religious, agnostic, political, etc.).
My life saver today was Rosa. She took Maia upstairs to play with Lucas for the rest of the afternoon. I felt like a failure but I was glad Maia got the treatment she deserved. Loving, patient treatment. She is only 3 years old!
Later on I took her to the playground and my night-time readings were pure reflections of my guilt "Mama, Do you Love Me?", "Always, CopyCub", and "How do you Feel?". Why couldn't I just talk about the day? Well, not tonight... but I communicated via her bedtime stories and I think she got it.
God give me strength and PLEASE...more patience.
Thanks.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
i suck in the supporting wife role
I have supported D in a lot of decisions and rough patches in our lives together. I have made sacrifices and I've done stuff I wouldn't do just because I love him.
But we are at a new stage.
I don't want to be the sucker anymore.
I've spent years now being alone with the kid(s) after full days of work because he was taking extra-long to finish school. I have been looking forward to the beginning of this year with great anticipation, for Dario had finally finished with his last class and was about to graduate (i.e. no more long, lonely and work-intense evenings but parenting team-work as it was initially planned.)
When Dario threatened to leave me if I don't give him children I told him very clearly how I felt.
I did want to have children but I was in no rush. Early 30s or so would have been fine for me. I'm a realist and I observe well. I knew that having kids meant the end of my own life as I liked it (filled with interesting activities). I told him we were too young but he insisted.
So, I gave in.
And not that I am unhappy to have kids. I love my girls to death but it is hard work (at least now that they're still so small) and D is just not living up to his part of the deal as much as I would like it.
I've slipped into the traditional wife-role without noticing. I cook (well, sometimes), I clean, take care of the kids, I manage the household, and I bitch. It seemed inevitable...
Anyway, .. now he just started his own business and as one can imagine this means many many hours of overtime (i.e. once again many long evenings and, in addition, weekends of me playing single parent). If I wouldn't work full-time this might be a bit easier to handle but not this way.
I resent him for his absence. So, when he then comes home late, having missed me, being nice, etc. I have a very hard time to return the feelings.
In my opinion, this isn't the right time for him to start a business. He has two little children and a full-time job. He seems to underestimate the amount of work this will require of him. There will be no more family-time for him.
When I asked my (single, mind you!) friends, they all thought I should be supportive and stop bitching. I was in shock. How could they give me such advice? I mean, it's what I need to hear to make it through this without leaving D, but as strong, emancipated women of the 21st century, how could they tell me to quit my job (i.e. give up my thing), stay home with the kids, and support D in his ambitions. In other words, I shouldn't be complaining.
I guess, I have too much testosterone in my system, for I am having a very hard time coping with this attitude and with this situation all together.
I don't see why I should give up my ambitions so he could realize his.
His are only about money and I give a shit about money. He wants to live better, make more money...
I DO NOT care! Of course, I want financial stability, and live normally (i.e. not in poverty, which considering the state of this world is probably what IS normal) but I don't care about money and I don't care about luxury. As an addition to my life ...ok ... but not in sacrifice of something else (in this case his presence at home).
I've always said it isn't important how much money you have. It doesn't give you happiness. I would never choose a man because he has a fancy car or has a fat salary. In fact, it's a bit deterring to me, for I associate this with cockiness but that's just a prejudice, I suppose, for I know a couple of men who have good paychecks and are still humble and sweet and not arrogant at all.
Ok. I really needed to vent.
How am I going to do this? ... What's the point of a family if one part is always missing in action.
But we are at a new stage.
I don't want to be the sucker anymore.
I've spent years now being alone with the kid(s) after full days of work because he was taking extra-long to finish school. I have been looking forward to the beginning of this year with great anticipation, for Dario had finally finished with his last class and was about to graduate (i.e. no more long, lonely and work-intense evenings but parenting team-work as it was initially planned.)
When Dario threatened to leave me if I don't give him children I told him very clearly how I felt.
I did want to have children but I was in no rush. Early 30s or so would have been fine for me. I'm a realist and I observe well. I knew that having kids meant the end of my own life as I liked it (filled with interesting activities). I told him we were too young but he insisted.
So, I gave in.
And not that I am unhappy to have kids. I love my girls to death but it is hard work (at least now that they're still so small) and D is just not living up to his part of the deal as much as I would like it.
I've slipped into the traditional wife-role without noticing. I cook (well, sometimes), I clean, take care of the kids, I manage the household, and I bitch. It seemed inevitable...
Anyway, .. now he just started his own business and as one can imagine this means many many hours of overtime (i.e. once again many long evenings and, in addition, weekends of me playing single parent). If I wouldn't work full-time this might be a bit easier to handle but not this way.
I resent him for his absence. So, when he then comes home late, having missed me, being nice, etc. I have a very hard time to return the feelings.
In my opinion, this isn't the right time for him to start a business. He has two little children and a full-time job. He seems to underestimate the amount of work this will require of him. There will be no more family-time for him.
When I asked my (single, mind you!) friends, they all thought I should be supportive and stop bitching. I was in shock. How could they give me such advice? I mean, it's what I need to hear to make it through this without leaving D, but as strong, emancipated women of the 21st century, how could they tell me to quit my job (i.e. give up my thing), stay home with the kids, and support D in his ambitions. In other words, I shouldn't be complaining.
I guess, I have too much testosterone in my system, for I am having a very hard time coping with this attitude and with this situation all together.
I don't see why I should give up my ambitions so he could realize his.
His are only about money and I give a shit about money. He wants to live better, make more money...
I DO NOT care! Of course, I want financial stability, and live normally (i.e. not in poverty, which considering the state of this world is probably what IS normal) but I don't care about money and I don't care about luxury. As an addition to my life ...ok ... but not in sacrifice of something else (in this case his presence at home).
I've always said it isn't important how much money you have. It doesn't give you happiness. I would never choose a man because he has a fancy car or has a fat salary. In fact, it's a bit deterring to me, for I associate this with cockiness but that's just a prejudice, I suppose, for I know a couple of men who have good paychecks and are still humble and sweet and not arrogant at all.
Ok. I really needed to vent.
How am I going to do this? ... What's the point of a family if one part is always missing in action.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
why you cannot curse at your woman
D and I are having this on-going argument on whether it is ok for a man to curse at his woman the same way as she curses at him.
To be more specific: Is it ok to call your wife a bitch/hoe/cunt whenever you're mad because she calls you an asshole or stupid mofo when she is mad.
D's opinion to this is that there should be equality and man and woman should be able to curse at each other equally but really he doesn't like name-calling at all (,thank God).
My opinion is that there is more to it.
It's just not as bad (loaded) to call a man an asshole when mad but to call a woman a bitch or a hoe or, worst of all, a cunt is unacceptable for it is way too harsh in comparison.
These words are too hurtful to a woman. They compromise the respect which should be omnipresent in a relationship.
It is like calling your man a loser. Although, it is a completely different word, it's charge is similar.
I would never call D a loser.... no matter how mad I'd be... and believe me, there were times in our lives in which I wanted to shout this at him all day long. However, I would never purposely pick something to hurt the person I care for...
That is a lie. I did once. After he did his whole virtual cheating thing, I called him fat or something like it (I am such a bitch ... notice how it's ok to call myself or my girlfriend a bitch).
anyway, a note to the fellas ... don't call your woman a bitch (or maybe American women are desensitized to the word...I don't know). Just think of a white dude calling a black dude the n word. Doesn't matter how it is meant (even in today's desensitized way where it seems to often just mean "guy", "dude", or "friend")... it is just NEVER ok. It won't ever go down the right way for the black guy. Or am I wrong? ... Granted I am not a black man ... but that's just what I think.
To be more specific: Is it ok to call your wife a bitch/hoe/cunt whenever you're mad because she calls you an asshole or stupid mofo when she is mad.
D's opinion to this is that there should be equality and man and woman should be able to curse at each other equally but really he doesn't like name-calling at all (,thank God).
My opinion is that there is more to it.
It's just not as bad (loaded) to call a man an asshole when mad but to call a woman a bitch or a hoe or, worst of all, a cunt is unacceptable for it is way too harsh in comparison.
These words are too hurtful to a woman. They compromise the respect which should be omnipresent in a relationship.
It is like calling your man a loser. Although, it is a completely different word, it's charge is similar.
I would never call D a loser.... no matter how mad I'd be... and believe me, there were times in our lives in which I wanted to shout this at him all day long. However, I would never purposely pick something to hurt the person I care for...
That is a lie. I did once. After he did his whole virtual cheating thing, I called him fat or something like it (I am such a bitch ... notice how it's ok to call myself or my girlfriend a bitch).
anyway, a note to the fellas ... don't call your woman a bitch (or maybe American women are desensitized to the word...I don't know). Just think of a white dude calling a black dude the n word. Doesn't matter how it is meant (even in today's desensitized way where it seems to often just mean "guy", "dude", or "friend")... it is just NEVER ok. It won't ever go down the right way for the black guy. Or am I wrong? ... Granted I am not a black man ... but that's just what I think.
what is a soulmate?
I've been wondering lately...
what exactly is a soulmate and why are people always in search of theirs? Is a soulmate the exact replica of your character (or some sort of close version?) or is a soulmate someone you just connect with on a different (deeper) level than with others, all regardless of similarity in character? And if this is the case, then why do people think their soulmate might be the best match for them in life? For if the latter statement is true, and a soulmate is merely someone you connect with deeply then that doesn't mean they would function well in some sort of permanent living arrangement, does it? Or is this an inherent (assumed) part of "connecting deeply"?
Also, ... is a soulmate someone you would always be physically attracted to? Can one go without the other? Or is it inevitable? Or.... hmmm.... I really ought to ask someone who can answer this.
But I really don't know who I would ask. . . .
blogging sucks sometimes....maybe I should enable commenting, after all.... so I can get feedback. ... but if nobody would say anything then I'd feel stupid and lonely ... and stupid (again) ... and then I'd probably stop blogging and make myself get back to life where I actually communicate with other people rather than share my thoughts with a flickering computer screen (and ..btw... the "flickering" is really happening here... gotta do something about that.)
well, there is my e-mail somewhere here... if you read this and you think you have really thought about this question of mine then hit me. I'm just curious what people think...what wisdom one might have accumulated....and this isn't something I can look up in an encyclopedia or something.
what exactly is a soulmate and why are people always in search of theirs? Is a soulmate the exact replica of your character (or some sort of close version?) or is a soulmate someone you just connect with on a different (deeper) level than with others, all regardless of similarity in character? And if this is the case, then why do people think their soulmate might be the best match for them in life? For if the latter statement is true, and a soulmate is merely someone you connect with deeply then that doesn't mean they would function well in some sort of permanent living arrangement, does it? Or is this an inherent (assumed) part of "connecting deeply"?
Also, ... is a soulmate someone you would always be physically attracted to? Can one go without the other? Or is it inevitable? Or.... hmmm.... I really ought to ask someone who can answer this.
But I really don't know who I would ask. . . .
blogging sucks sometimes....maybe I should enable commenting, after all.... so I can get feedback. ... but if nobody would say anything then I'd feel stupid and lonely ... and stupid (again) ... and then I'd probably stop blogging and make myself get back to life where I actually communicate with other people rather than share my thoughts with a flickering computer screen (and ..btw... the "flickering" is really happening here... gotta do something about that.)
well, there is my e-mail somewhere here... if you read this and you think you have really thought about this question of mine then hit me. I'm just curious what people think...what wisdom one might have accumulated....and this isn't something I can look up in an encyclopedia or something.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
What animals would we be in seaworld
So, Maia sits in the tub and says:
"Mom, I'm a mermaid."
"You are?" I say.
"Yes," she answers and pointing at her 9 month-old sister splashing all over the place, "and baby is an octupus. .... and Daddy ... Daddy is a whale."
"ah nice. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to hear that," I comment, "and what am I?"
"you, mommy.... you are...a shark."
I'm not sure if I would have rather been a whale in my daughter's projection of our characters into the marine world but a shark? Come on, I'm not that bad.
I'd see myself more like a dolphin. In fact, if there is such a thing as reincarnation then I would like to be reborn as a dolphin (preferrably the type, who doesn't hang around with tuna too much).
"Mom, I'm a mermaid."
"You are?" I say.
"Yes," she answers and pointing at her 9 month-old sister splashing all over the place, "and baby is an octupus. .... and Daddy ... Daddy is a whale."
"ah nice. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to hear that," I comment, "and what am I?"
"you, mommy.... you are...a shark."
I'm not sure if I would have rather been a whale in my daughter's projection of our characters into the marine world but a shark? Come on, I'm not that bad.
I'd see myself more like a dolphin. In fact, if there is such a thing as reincarnation then I would like to be reborn as a dolphin (preferrably the type, who doesn't hang around with tuna too much).
Sunday, January 30, 2005
don't talk to strangers....(the continuation of my lost cellphone story)
A few posts ago I mentioned how I had lost my cellphone and how I was going to meet this guy Jose and his friend to supposedly get it back.
So we had agreed to seven o'clock at the bus-stop (stupid idea, by the way, if you are meeting someone you don't know, for surrounded by dozens of people you don't know). I didn't make it until about 7.30 and the results of my unpunctuality should teach me a lesson never to be late again.
So, there I stand... waiting. I call Dario, who tells me Jose just called to tell me he's a few blocks away or something like that (at this point, another note to myself: don't trust Dario's messages. There are always very vital parts missing.)
So I wait and wait and suddenly this guy steps next to me. So close, he's almost touching me. He pulls out a phone and starts dialing a number.
"Jose," I think... "or maybe his friend"... and stupid (i.e. not very "streetsmart") as I am I ask him directly: Are you Jose?
I should have been able to tell by the liquor in his breath, or by his smirk when he said yes, or by the way he aggressively tried to come on to me in the following conversation but I didn't trust my instincts, given to all of us (for GOOD REASONS!) through our genetic make-up.
So, when he after minutes of me moving away from him while we were talking still didn't get the message, I just hit him. Well, actually I sort of pushed him back on his chest and told him to step back already.
I can't believe you just hit me, he said readjusting the puffiness of his down-jacket.
I'm gonna hit you somewhere else if you don't stay back, I said.
Can you now please focus and tell me where Jose is?" I asked to which he answered under his breath,"oh, my dick is so hard right now."
"oookayy. I think I have to go now." I said stepping away quickly.
"f*** the phone" I thought and to the crazy dude I said "I'll be back. Just tell Jose to call me when he gets here."
Unfortunately, he didn't follow the distractive instruction of staying put.
"let me walk you!" he exclaimed.
"no, no that's ok." I said "you stay here in case Jose gets here. I'll be right back. Just have to go feed my kid." after which I began jogging away (don't run from dogs, they'll start chasing you, I thought).
My car was only a few hundred feet away and I didn't want him to see me getting into it.
Unfortunately, he must have been right behind me, for when I got into the van and THANK GOD locked the doors immediately (9 years in NYC...at least I learned something), he was already knocking on the passenger side window.
Still pretending everything was ok and dandy (as not to get him started) I opened the window a little.
-Can I get a ride? he asked.
-Are you f**ing crazy? I replied.
-Whyy?
-First of all I am a woman - alone in a van with tinted windows. Second, after what you just said I'd prefer to get away from you a.s.a.p.
-Oh. you heard that?
- Oh. yes.
- You know what it is.... I just popped a viagra pill. That gets you horny as shit.
- You took a viagra pill? How old are you?? I asked, trying to keep the conversation light since my car was blocked by a bus next to me.
- I'm twenty-seven.
- No, you're not, I said in disbelieve, you look more like you're in your early twenties.
- No, I'm twenty-seven. ...
- So why the hell are you taking viagra? Isn't that screwing with your system. (and hopefully it will screw with it right now so you can drop to the ground and leave me alone, I thought.)
- nah. it's great. you can fuck for like 3 hours straight.
- oh. that's nice to know. good for you. (f**ing bus, move already).
- so, can I get a ride please. it's just up the hill. to my boy's house.
- eh. I DON'T THINK SO." I said with a big smile, to which he replied with pushing his arm through the window to reach the unlock-button for the door.
At this point, I just pulled out of the parking spot. Thankfully, the bus had just begun moving and I didn't hit it.
I cursed all the way back up to my house.
Stupid phone. Stupid me. Stupid Jose. ...
I was just gonna let it go but a few days later I stumbled over Jose's number on my caller i.d. and decided to call him after all to tell him how disappointed I was in him and this act of sending his stupid potentially raping ghetto friend.
When I confronted him, though, he didn't know what I was talking about.
What the fuck are you talking about? You're trippin'. We were supposed to meet at 7. You called my voicemail at 7:30 so I called your house to say I'll check if my friend is still around and then I'd be there soon. and when my boy didn't answer his phone I called your house back to say I'm not coming.
- you did? I asked. (and I'm gonna kill Dario to myself).
After me telling him the story Jose asked me what this guy looked like.
- dunno I said, early twenties ... puerto-rican maybe.
- my friend is a 200 lbs white ni**a, he said.
white n... I thought. wow, how the language has traveled. ....
To prove his innocence to me he insisted on calling his friend (who still had my phone) on a conference call at this very minute.
Once you hear his voice you should know if this is who you met or not, J said.
So, it turned out I addressed a complete stranger at the busstop. But it couldn't be just any stranger. It had to be the one who was drunk, feisty, ghetto, and high on viagra.
;) I really ought to stop being so stupid.
So we had agreed to seven o'clock at the bus-stop (stupid idea, by the way, if you are meeting someone you don't know, for surrounded by dozens of people you don't know). I didn't make it until about 7.30 and the results of my unpunctuality should teach me a lesson never to be late again.
So, there I stand... waiting. I call Dario, who tells me Jose just called to tell me he's a few blocks away or something like that (at this point, another note to myself: don't trust Dario's messages. There are always very vital parts missing.)
So I wait and wait and suddenly this guy steps next to me. So close, he's almost touching me. He pulls out a phone and starts dialing a number.
"Jose," I think... "or maybe his friend"... and stupid (i.e. not very "streetsmart") as I am I ask him directly: Are you Jose?
I should have been able to tell by the liquor in his breath, or by his smirk when he said yes, or by the way he aggressively tried to come on to me in the following conversation but I didn't trust my instincts, given to all of us (for GOOD REASONS!) through our genetic make-up.
So, when he after minutes of me moving away from him while we were talking still didn't get the message, I just hit him. Well, actually I sort of pushed him back on his chest and told him to step back already.
I can't believe you just hit me, he said readjusting the puffiness of his down-jacket.
I'm gonna hit you somewhere else if you don't stay back, I said.
Can you now please focus and tell me where Jose is?" I asked to which he answered under his breath,"oh, my dick is so hard right now."
"oookayy. I think I have to go now." I said stepping away quickly.
"f*** the phone" I thought and to the crazy dude I said "I'll be back. Just tell Jose to call me when he gets here."
Unfortunately, he didn't follow the distractive instruction of staying put.
"let me walk you!" he exclaimed.
"no, no that's ok." I said "you stay here in case Jose gets here. I'll be right back. Just have to go feed my kid." after which I began jogging away (don't run from dogs, they'll start chasing you, I thought).
My car was only a few hundred feet away and I didn't want him to see me getting into it.
Unfortunately, he must have been right behind me, for when I got into the van and THANK GOD locked the doors immediately (9 years in NYC...at least I learned something), he was already knocking on the passenger side window.
Still pretending everything was ok and dandy (as not to get him started) I opened the window a little.
-Can I get a ride? he asked.
-Are you f**ing crazy? I replied.
-Whyy?
-First of all I am a woman - alone in a van with tinted windows. Second, after what you just said I'd prefer to get away from you a.s.a.p.
-Oh. you heard that?
- Oh. yes.
- You know what it is.... I just popped a viagra pill. That gets you horny as shit.
- You took a viagra pill? How old are you?? I asked, trying to keep the conversation light since my car was blocked by a bus next to me.
- I'm twenty-seven.
- No, you're not, I said in disbelieve, you look more like you're in your early twenties.
- No, I'm twenty-seven. ...
- So why the hell are you taking viagra? Isn't that screwing with your system. (and hopefully it will screw with it right now so you can drop to the ground and leave me alone, I thought.)
- nah. it's great. you can fuck for like 3 hours straight.
- oh. that's nice to know. good for you. (f**ing bus, move already).
- so, can I get a ride please. it's just up the hill. to my boy's house.
- eh. I DON'T THINK SO." I said with a big smile, to which he replied with pushing his arm through the window to reach the unlock-button for the door.
At this point, I just pulled out of the parking spot. Thankfully, the bus had just begun moving and I didn't hit it.
I cursed all the way back up to my house.
Stupid phone. Stupid me. Stupid Jose. ...
I was just gonna let it go but a few days later I stumbled over Jose's number on my caller i.d. and decided to call him after all to tell him how disappointed I was in him and this act of sending his stupid potentially raping ghetto friend.
When I confronted him, though, he didn't know what I was talking about.
What the fuck are you talking about? You're trippin'. We were supposed to meet at 7. You called my voicemail at 7:30 so I called your house to say I'll check if my friend is still around and then I'd be there soon. and when my boy didn't answer his phone I called your house back to say I'm not coming.
- you did? I asked. (and I'm gonna kill Dario to myself).
After me telling him the story Jose asked me what this guy looked like.
- dunno I said, early twenties ... puerto-rican maybe.
- my friend is a 200 lbs white ni**a, he said.
white n... I thought. wow, how the language has traveled. ....
To prove his innocence to me he insisted on calling his friend (who still had my phone) on a conference call at this very minute.
Once you hear his voice you should know if this is who you met or not, J said.
So, it turned out I addressed a complete stranger at the busstop. But it couldn't be just any stranger. It had to be the one who was drunk, feisty, ghetto, and high on viagra.
;) I really ought to stop being so stupid.
sex and the city... and important notes on the recipe for life
first of all, for all these years I thought it's sex IN the city....but whatever, doesn't matter (also, I just said "all" twice in one sentence and maybe I shouldn't start writing blogs at 3 o'clock in the morning.
anyway, so they finally released sex in...wait AND the city on DVD and since my broke ass can't afford HBO everyone around me had to keep their mouths shut for months about the ending of the series. Of course, I didn't anticipate that it would take that long for it to appear on DVD, so now I am completely old news and nobody will want to discuss that ending with me.
oh well.
but watching the last four episodes tonight (yes, I watched them all in a row) brought me back to a more timeless realization I just had yesterday. Well, it was less of a realization but a motivated thought. Friends of mine (John and Carla) reminded me of something that I forgot and I am infintely grateful to have been reminded of.
You have to preserve your identity at all costs. Don't lose yourself.
Also, and this I am writing down more for myself... as a reminder:
Your job isn't who you are. It doesn't matter what benefits it has, how secure it is, whatever,... you don't want to wake up one day and realize you're dead inside, for you have let go of every passion you ever had in life.
I have already lost so much. I cannot play the piano anymore and for me this is an immense void. I haven't taken my camera into the streets for years. And I have not picked up a brush in ages.
Work is not your life.
Happiness is priceless.
Dare to quit. Dare to make changes.
Of course, I have two kids, so I can't quit ... but I'm gonna drop that unnaturally straight work-ethic and hopefully someone will fire me one day and I'll get to do what I really want to do.
Someone needs to push me over that plank.
Ahh, I'm so full of shit.
But I'm working on it.
PS: Maia (who just turned 3) watched her first movie today. It was "Cinderella". I tried to talk her into Peter Pan, Lion King, or something I might enjoy, as well but she wanted to watch something with a "princess" and so we had to watch that rattely old Cinderella tape.
Wasn't too bad actually. Cute thing was that Maia asked me about half way into the movie if she could talk to "that lady".
- "what lady?" I asked
- "that lady."
-"the evil one?"
- "yes."
- "well, what would you like to tell her, honey?"
- "ehm...I, I wanna tell her not to be so.....so angry." ...and then to the TV she goes, "excuse me, excuuuse me. ... don't be so mean, please."
it was too cute ;)
anyway, so they finally released sex in...wait AND the city on DVD and since my broke ass can't afford HBO everyone around me had to keep their mouths shut for months about the ending of the series. Of course, I didn't anticipate that it would take that long for it to appear on DVD, so now I am completely old news and nobody will want to discuss that ending with me.
oh well.
but watching the last four episodes tonight (yes, I watched them all in a row) brought me back to a more timeless realization I just had yesterday. Well, it was less of a realization but a motivated thought. Friends of mine (John and Carla) reminded me of something that I forgot and I am infintely grateful to have been reminded of.
You have to preserve your identity at all costs. Don't lose yourself.
Also, and this I am writing down more for myself... as a reminder:
Your job isn't who you are. It doesn't matter what benefits it has, how secure it is, whatever,... you don't want to wake up one day and realize you're dead inside, for you have let go of every passion you ever had in life.
I have already lost so much. I cannot play the piano anymore and for me this is an immense void. I haven't taken my camera into the streets for years. And I have not picked up a brush in ages.
Work is not your life.
Happiness is priceless.
Dare to quit. Dare to make changes.
Of course, I have two kids, so I can't quit ... but I'm gonna drop that unnaturally straight work-ethic and hopefully someone will fire me one day and I'll get to do what I really want to do.
Someone needs to push me over that plank.
Ahh, I'm so full of shit.
But I'm working on it.
PS: Maia (who just turned 3) watched her first movie today. It was "Cinderella". I tried to talk her into Peter Pan, Lion King, or something I might enjoy, as well but she wanted to watch something with a "princess" and so we had to watch that rattely old Cinderella tape.
Wasn't too bad actually. Cute thing was that Maia asked me about half way into the movie if she could talk to "that lady".
- "what lady?" I asked
- "that lady."
-"the evil one?"
- "yes."
- "well, what would you like to tell her, honey?"
- "ehm...I, I wanna tell her not to be so.....so angry." ...and then to the TV she goes, "excuse me, excuuuse me. ... don't be so mean, please."
it was too cute ;)
Sunday, January 09, 2005
bad spelling
---------- kelly writes Date: Thu, 6 Jan 2005 00:46:23 EST
>hi,
i'll be on campus tomorrow thurs 1/6 around noonish
> call me on my cell and maybe we could do lunch
>kelly
---my reply:
good thing I'm reading this mail on time... sigh. it's friday. :/... LET ME KNOW when you're on campus again! although ..at the moment I am working from home, mostly. ;) anyway. it's been too long.
s.
--kelly writes : Fri, 7 Jan 2005 23:07:06 EST>
>oh fuck you...
>i hate friends with kids only worse than those with kids and jobs....
> too much of disappointment and pain in the ass.
>>love ya,
>>kelly
>>p.s. there is always the hope of a boarding school future, but perhaps i'm too optimistic as usual.
>>by the way i'm auditing a class on neichitz with papas, luckily he doesnt want to read my shit (no papers) >>so it's all the joy and none of the anguish...
>what are you doing tues and thrus at 2pm>let me know>
hey. this sounds like a great idea.what's the class's number...so I can look it up (course description)...neichitz??
you don't mean nietzsche, do you? ... shit I'm not even sure if I spelled it right myself. if it is a class on that dude we should probably figure out how to spell his name... ;) ...
hmm. been a while since I read any Nietzsche ..but I think I didn't like him.
anyway ->auditing class. best idea on improving my hectic life I've heard in a long time. (this sentence sounds grammatically wrong but I am too tired to figure out why. good nite. I'm beat.)
s.
PS: boarding school - good idea. how old do they have to be before I can send them? ;)
>hi,
i'll be on campus tomorrow thurs 1/6 around noonish
> call me on my cell and maybe we could do lunch
>kelly
---my reply:
good thing I'm reading this mail on time... sigh. it's friday. :/... LET ME KNOW when you're on campus again! although ..at the moment I am working from home, mostly. ;) anyway. it's been too long.
s.
--kelly writes : Fri, 7 Jan 2005 23:07:06 EST>
>oh fuck you...
>i hate friends with kids only worse than those with kids and jobs....
> too much of disappointment and pain in the ass.
>>love ya,
>>kelly
>>p.s. there is always the hope of a boarding school future, but perhaps i'm too optimistic as usual.
>>by the way i'm auditing a class on neichitz with papas, luckily he doesnt want to read my shit (no papers) >>so it's all the joy and none of the anguish...
>what are you doing tues and thrus at 2pm>let me know>
hey. this sounds like a great idea.what's the class's number...so I can look it up (course description)...neichitz??
you don't mean nietzsche, do you? ... shit I'm not even sure if I spelled it right myself. if it is a class on that dude we should probably figure out how to spell his name... ;) ...
hmm. been a while since I read any Nietzsche ..but I think I didn't like him.
anyway ->auditing class. best idea on improving my hectic life I've heard in a long time. (this sentence sounds grammatically wrong but I am too tired to figure out why. good nite. I'm beat.)
s.
PS: boarding school - good idea. how old do they have to be before I can send them? ;)
Friday, January 07, 2005
(post x-mas) trivial knowledge
a forward from my friend zoya:
According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, while both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year, male reindeer drop their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid-December. However female reindeer retain their antlers till after they give birth in the spring. Therefore, according to every historical rendition depicting Santa's reindeer, EVERY single one of them, from Rudolph to Blitzen, had to be a girl. We should've known... ONLY women would be able to drag a fat man in a red velvet suit all around the world in one night and not get lost.
According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, while both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year, male reindeer drop their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid-December. However female reindeer retain their antlers till after they give birth in the spring. Therefore, according to every historical rendition depicting Santa's reindeer, EVERY single one of them, from Rudolph to Blitzen, had to be a girl. We should've known... ONLY women would be able to drag a fat man in a red velvet suit all around the world in one night and not get lost.
Thursday, December 30, 2004
114,000 now?
anything I do seems irrelevant at this point.
so many people dead.
my day goes on but whatever happens gets put into perspective. I think about the extent of this tragedy all the time.
anyway. I am taking back one of my statements earlier... about my belief in people.
There are a lot of people out there who moved their asses to find a way to help.
On the day of the news of the tsunamis the American Red Cross received 18 Mio. dollars in donations.
so. I moved my ass, whipped out that overdrawn credit-card and donated, too.
now, at least, I don't suck all thaat much anymore.
if you have your wallet on you, click here:
http://www.usaid.gov/our_work/humanitarian_assistance/disaster_assistance/help/index.html
or here:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4248155
I feel very blessed and puzzled on why my life has been pretty good so far. Of course, I've been bitching but really... I am very lucky compared to all the people worldwide who have to endure so much suffering.
Is this all random?
Back I am at the question of What is Life all about?
Anyway, if you're greatful for what you have then go donate.
Very bad story from last night (cellphone guy meeting) I will tell a little later.
I am still shaking.
so many people dead.
my day goes on but whatever happens gets put into perspective. I think about the extent of this tragedy all the time.
anyway. I am taking back one of my statements earlier... about my belief in people.
There are a lot of people out there who moved their asses to find a way to help.
On the day of the news of the tsunamis the American Red Cross received 18 Mio. dollars in donations.
so. I moved my ass, whipped out that overdrawn credit-card and donated, too.
now, at least, I don't suck all thaat much anymore.
if you have your wallet on you, click here:
http://www.usaid.gov/our_work/humanitarian_assistance/disaster_assistance/help/index.html
or here:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4248155
I feel very blessed and puzzled on why my life has been pretty good so far. Of course, I've been bitching but really... I am very lucky compared to all the people worldwide who have to endure so much suffering.
Is this all random?
Back I am at the question of What is Life all about?
Anyway, if you're greatful for what you have then go donate.
Very bad story from last night (cellphone guy meeting) I will tell a little later.
I am still shaking.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
now what should I say to that? (lost cellphone story part#1)
so, I lost my cellphone a week ago or so. i switch my number the next day to an old-ass phone and begin checking my voicemail for messages left during my separation from my number.
guy leaves message ..."yeah, somebody called my phone from this number. call me back."
so I call and tell him that I dropped my phone on the street somewhere and whoever found it must be someone who knows his phonenumber by heart.
I convince him to help me get my phone back somehow.
guy is pretty street, as far as I can tell, but nevertheless quite honest. calls me back a few times with speculations about which of his boys might have that nice nextel. finally, after a few days he calls again and tells me he noticed one of his friends with his new treasure. It's my phone.
That's great, I say (trying not to say 'fantastic', 'fabulous' or any similar kind of dorky-white-chick or funny-gay-man words). "I'm so excited!" (realize, shouldn't have said that either. sounded just as above established stereotypes.)
"Yeah, well," the guy says, "I don't think he's gonna give it to you, though."
"Ehm, why are you calling me then?" I say. "Are you teasing me?"
"Well, maybe he could give you your sim-card ...or maybe you could work out a deal," he says.
work out a deal? I wonder, the guy found my phone...what kind of deal will he prepare for me? Will I have to buy back my phone?
mediator guy (Jose, I find out is his name) tells me once again that he's going to call me back.
Days pass by and he finally calls this evening telling me I could meet the guy who has my phone and I should set up a date and time.
Well, I'm really not planning to buy back my phone (given that I got it from my job...i.e. never paid a dime for it), ...and the sim-card won't fit in this stupid old phone I am using now anyway. But I am really intrigued to find out what the hell this dude is going to say (Hi, nice to meet you ...I ain't givin' you your phone, just so you know.";) , ...so I am meeting those two tomorrow eve.
Wish me luck.
guy leaves message ..."yeah, somebody called my phone from this number. call me back."
so I call and tell him that I dropped my phone on the street somewhere and whoever found it must be someone who knows his phonenumber by heart.
I convince him to help me get my phone back somehow.
guy is pretty street, as far as I can tell, but nevertheless quite honest. calls me back a few times with speculations about which of his boys might have that nice nextel. finally, after a few days he calls again and tells me he noticed one of his friends with his new treasure. It's my phone.
That's great, I say (trying not to say 'fantastic', 'fabulous' or any similar kind of dorky-white-chick or funny-gay-man words). "I'm so excited!" (realize, shouldn't have said that either. sounded just as above established stereotypes.)
"Yeah, well," the guy says, "I don't think he's gonna give it to you, though."
"Ehm, why are you calling me then?" I say. "Are you teasing me?"
"Well, maybe he could give you your sim-card ...or maybe you could work out a deal," he says.
work out a deal? I wonder, the guy found my phone...what kind of deal will he prepare for me? Will I have to buy back my phone?
mediator guy (Jose, I find out is his name) tells me once again that he's going to call me back.
Days pass by and he finally calls this evening telling me I could meet the guy who has my phone and I should set up a date and time.
Well, I'm really not planning to buy back my phone (given that I got it from my job...i.e. never paid a dime for it), ...and the sim-card won't fit in this stupid old phone I am using now anyway. But I am really intrigued to find out what the hell this dude is going to say (Hi, nice to meet you ...I ain't givin' you your phone, just so you know.";) , ...so I am meeting those two tomorrow eve.
Wish me luck.
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