Just a girl...

I like to spend some of my weekends with my little sister. Not my actual little sister being that my real little sister is nearly 30 and lives in Florida with three kids, but my little sister through the Big Brothers/Big Sisters program. We’ve been matched for 6 months now and I feel truly blessed to have her in my life. She’s such an amazing kid. Reminds me a whole lot of myself when I was younger.

You see, I didn’t grow up in the best of neighborhoods. Worst? No, not really, but definitely could’ve been better. I was always a nerd. I loved school. I hated summer. I always had my nose in a book and I always had dreams of going to college and “making it.” For other kids in other areas, that may have been a given, but not mine. Neither of my parents even finished high school. They grew up in the hoods of the Bronx, Manhattan & Puerto Rico and I’m surprised they even found a way to get out. However, they always wanted more for us. Naturally. A good parent always wants more for their children. I grew up with the importance of school being drilled into my brain nearly every single day. No doubt this had a lot to do with their own regrets of never finishing and the obstacles they had to overcome because of that fact. Whatever the case, I was told, “School is the Key. You must finish School. Stay away from boys. They will lie to you, tell you they love you, get you pregnant and leave you. Also, you’ll go to hell.” 

Kinda harsh, right? This paired with the fact that I had a SUPREMELY controlling and strict father meant very little was happening for me in the boy department. Lucky for my dad, I already loved school - so he didn’t have to really work too hard to get me to focus. When I was younger, I felt all of my friends shared my goals. We all had crushes on boys, but my mind hadn’t even begun to fathom what puberty would bring. As I started to get older, everyone kind of started to change. Things changed. People changed. All of a sudden, my friends didn’t want to go to school anymore. They wanted to ditch to hang out with some guy at his place. My girlfriends also became super unavailable. Only wanting to hang out while they were in the middle of some “fight” with their boyfriend. We were 14 and 15. Really? What is that serious? Call me immature, but I was just not ready to grow up that fast. Of course, I wanted a boyfriend too and even had a couple of super ridiculous teen “relationships,” but that mostly consisted of quick make out sessions in the hallway and us walking each other to our classes. My father would have KILLED me if I had done anything more than that. AND I had no interest whatsoever in ditching school to be with a boy. For what? It’s not like I’m going to have sex with him. Are you crazy? I can get pregnant and go to hell. (Thanks, Dad) 

So as time went on, I watched a lot of the girls in my area surrender to these temptations and feelings. It started to affect their schoolwork. Even if they didn’t want to ditch, they relented once the peer pressure was put on. Peer pressure:  What a motherfucker. Again, lucky for me I couldn’t give two shits about peer pressure. Nothing was worth the ass beating I could foresee myself getting should my dad ever find out about my deceit. In the end, these actions had consequences (as all actions do). Some friends ended up dropping out, or even getting pregnant. At 15 or 16 - that’s pretty fucking harsh. 

I often think about how easily that could’ve been me. I’m not sure why it wasn’t. I’d say my dad and his borderline Dictatorship had a lot to do with it, which it did, but it was something in me as well. My sister and I had the same strict father, but my sister and I handled it in vastly different ways. I was obedient; she rebelled. I focused on school and work; she decided she’d ditch to do what she wanted to do. I’d say no to my friends; she could never turn them down. Same dad. Same upbringing. Immensely different outcomes. The same goes for all my other friends as well.

Now this isn’t me standing on my soap box preaching about how much better my life turned out to be than everyone else. Not at all. Everything happens in life for a reason. Some of these people have moved on to have amazing and beautiful families, something I still hope to achieve one day. People’s life paths are always different, but you work with what you’ve got. However, growing up in the area I grew up in and being surrounded by what I was, I know sometimes it’s easy to think there is no other option. Sometimes it is just so much easier to have the, “Well, this is what everyone else seems to be doing…” mentality without the will to really desire more. I’ve seen it happen. Environment can have an insane impact on a young person’s life and yes, I believe Role Models can help. 

Am I saying I’m a Role Model? I don’t know. However, I’ve been there. I understand what it’s like to want to go against the grain when everybody else seems to be doing something else. I know how hard it can be to keep your eyes on the prize when most people around you seem to have lost their sights on it. I feel so tragically sad for the youth of today that allow themselves just to be another statistic because they do not know any better. They were never taught to want more or they simply don’t know how to access their resources to achieve more. I so want to help. Maybe I can’t do much. Maybe I’ll fail. However, if there’s any chance that me being in this little person’s life can show her that she doesn’t have to settle for the hand she was dealt, she doesn’t have to succumb to her surroundings, that she can fight for something better - Well, shit. I will do it. I will be that person rooting for her, showing her that there is another path she can choose and that I am living proof of it. And she knows this. And she’s grateful. And that fills me with an irreplaceable joy…and that’s why I love spending time with my little sister.

This entry ended up being about something completely different than what I had originally intended, but hey, it happens. I guess that just means I’ll have more to write about on a later date.

‘Til next time, kiddos. 

I like to think of myself as a sexual person. And by the term sexual, I in no way mean, “Give it to me daddy…every hour of the day.” I, like most of the population, enjoy sex. In my considering myself “sexual”, it simply means that I am fully aware of this fact, don’t hide it, willingly talk about it, and realize when in fact I need to have my needs met.

With that said, I don’t necessarily need to be in a relationship in order to make sure my sexual needs are being satisfied. I am a woman and we have it easy. (Sorry gentleman, but you know it’s true.) All it takes is a text or a conversation and for the most part, a woman can find a more than willing volunteer to help quench her thirst. As long as both parties are fully aware of the arrangement or situation and both are in mutual agreement of what is to be expected, a good time can be had with little to no post coital damage. When you’ve met someone that you feel pretty comfortable engaging in such activities with from time to time, it can be pretty fucking awesome.

This is perfectly acceptable way to get through those intermediate phases in between relationships. Hell, some people go through them WHILE in relationships, but that’s a whole different topic. ;) 

In any case, I never really had a problem living that way to get me through the dry spells. Needs are needs and I have mine just like everyone has theirs. That is until my last sorta kinda relationship with a guy. This isn’t going to be about him because, ugh…not worth the keystrokes. But something happened in me after that. I really cannot even explain it. I lost a desire to be with men. Sexually. I just became so disenchanted with the idea of sharing myself with anyone. Did my sex drive dwindle? Certainly not. I still engage in some “self-servicing” on a fairly frequent basis, so my lack of desire could not be attributed to that.

I guess I had a sexual epiphany. A “What the fuck am I doing and why” moment. What am I getting out of this, really? An Orgasm? Hardly. Those aren’t even guaranteed and I have an amazing vibrator that gets the job done every single time. Why in the fuck am I giving any part of myself to these guys who, to be honest, couldn’t possibly truly appreciate it (or me, for that matter)? How much longer am I going to continue to give myself to individuals who truly don’t deserve my time let alone my body? That’s not always the case, though. Sometimes I meet people that seem to be cool but neither of us really want to go down that relationship road, so we go down the other, slightly more fun road and it’s always a good time, but the question remained: Why am I really doing this?

I couldn’t come up with an answer. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that my favorite sex memories are with men I’ve loved. Yeah, I’ve had fantastic, mind-blowing sex with men I couldn’t have cared less about and that was all great and fun, but I’m a sentimental gal. And this sentimental gal will take love over sex any day of the week. Sex can be so beautiful. If you truly love the person, the sex is just another means to elevate the connection and almost nothing in the world tops that. 

Now, while I’m certainly not in love and don’t foresee any major prospects in my near future, I decided that I didn’t want to settle for anything less than that feeling. The next person I give myself to, I want to be able to do it fully. I want to be able to look in their eyes and feel loved and safe. I want to feel like there is no other place in the world I rather be than right there in that moment…with him. And I want to feel secure in the fact that he is feeling the same way. No easy feat, I realize this. However, if it’s one thing I’ve done a lot in my life is sell myself too short, give myself to the unworthy, and settle for less than I deserve. Well, I’m growing, people. I want the whole nine yards and I won’t stop ‘til I get it. Why cheapen the experience with anything less than the best? Believe it or not, holding out is a lot easier than I thought it would be. I have not considered faltering at all, and I’m approaching an all time dry spell record. Sure, this means I may gain a few pounds from the massive quantities of chocolate I will consume in substitution for sex. Sure, I may just use my pocket rocket so much that it will short circuit and burn me…(don’t ask), but can you imagine how fucking amazing it will be when I get what I want? When I can completely relinquish myself to someone who has proven their worth and I feel 100% comfortable knowing that everything I’m feeling is 100% right? When I can let my guard down fully and just be in the arms of someone I truly love who truly loves me? Whoever that guy is will have me, all of me, every single piece - and until then, I don’t need anybody else trumping on his territory. 

I hope this will be the first of many entries in 2012. We’ll see if life allows me to keep it up. I actually have a list of topics I’d like to flesh out on internet paper. However, I’m not going to write about any of those topics tonight.

Tonight I want to talk about movies. You see, I’m a bit of a film connoisseur. I accredit my obsession with movies to the many years I spent glued to a television watching HBO while growing up. Couch Potato? Bona fide. That combined with the fact that I have always had a very strong affinity for the arts (Umm, hello - Theatre Major!) can attribute to my current “film buff” status.

Well, with movie watching being a part time hobby of mine it’s only natural that I will gather an opinion or two, so why not write them down, right? Exactly! 

In the past two days I’ve actually watched two movies: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and My Week with Marilyn. While both of these flicks would allow me to produce a solid entry, I have decided to focus on the latter this evening. Reasons are two fold: 1. It affected me emotionally. 2. I just finished watching it a mere two hours ago and because I am now old, recalling the former movie I watched on Sunday in great detail presents itself as quite the arduous task.

Truth be told, I am not too familiar with Marilyn Monroe and her work. I realize this statement contradicts everything I proclaimed in the first few paragraphs of this entry about my being a serious “film buff.” For the record, I have my strengths and unfortunately classic films from decades where my parents were not even in existence are not my forte. I figure I have my whole life to catch up on the classics.

Okay, so I wasn’t well versed in the backstory of the plot of this movie, but that should never matter where a movie is concerned. I knew this much: Michelle Williams & Kenneth Branagh? Umm - yes, please! The rave reviews did help a bit also. I wasn’t sure what I was getting into while watching it, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t be disappointed.

The movie is based on two books written by Mr. Colin Clark and his accounting of the events that happened while working as a Third Assistant to the Director on the set of The Prince and the Showgirl. In a matter of days, Mr. Clark acquaints himself with Ms. Monroe and provides her the support that she is so desperately seeking after her husband leaves the set to return to New York, forcing her to face a cast and crew of people who have begun criticizing her every misstep. Marilyn uses Colin as a crutch for an entire week, but not without opening herself up to him giving the audience a firsthand look at how truly damaged this classic beauty is. The dichotomy of Marilyn’s entire being was something I was never fully aware of and I found myself feeling extreme pity for her and her tragic end. 

Michelle Williams’ portrayal of Ms. Monroe was altogether remarkable. I have been a fan of Ms. Williams for some time now. Her versatility and her ability to play the most complex of characters is always such a delight to watch. She has the face of an innocent, but underneath that surface lurks so much more. A fantastic choice for Marilyn; she completely nailed it. Kenneth Branagh gives a great performance as Sir Laurence Olivier, but he is merely a supporting role in this movie where there can only be one star. Eddie Redmayne played an endearing Colin. I couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him as we watch him fall victim to the powers of Ms. Monroe’s irresistible charm. The scenes portraying the private moments shared between Colin and Marilyn were the true jewels of this movie giving us quite the intimate glimpse of the beautifully tragic life that is Marilyn Monroe. 

A bit slow for me at times, the pace could have been worked on. However, this is a small critique in an otherwise well directed, supremely acted film. A definite contender for several Oscars, I’m sure.

In a time where Hollywood Blockbusters are all the rage, there is something so wonderful about watching a movie that affects me in such a way where I feel unsettled afterwards. It’s a rarity nowadays, but I always look forward to Oscar season for this reason. I am so saddened by the obvious struggles Marilyn faced everyday of her life. She truly was troubled and damaged. Understanding those kinds of struggles myself, I can’t help but wish that someone would’ve saved her. Well, I guess if you can’t save yourself….

I may not have spent a week with Marilyn like Colin did, but watching two hours of a well crafted piece of art depicting a sensitive time in her life had the same effect.

Job well done.

Didn’t want to end 2011 without writing one more entry, even though I am incredibly pressed for time because, as per usual, I have a plate full of a million things to accomplish today.

Let’s make this short and sweet.

From a previous entry we all know that 2011 wasn’t the greatest for me, but it wasn’t without its highlights. Let’s go to the video tape:

1. I spent January 1, 2011 amongst all of my immediate family which is a rarity being that we are all over the country.

2. I landed my first official and consistent job as a Zumba Instructor.

3. I got to spend TWO very important Holidays with my beloved nephews.

4. I became a member of Big Brothers/Big Sisters and in turn got matched with a fantastic 12 year old girl who I have come to love very much.

5. I traveled to two new destinations: Costa Rica and Napa.

6. I finally was able to let go and stop loving a man that possessed my mind and heart for way longer than he deserved.

7. One of my besties had a beautiful baby girl who has no idea how much love she has coming her way from her Titi Shell in the coming years.

6. I figured out what I want to do with my life.

9. I dated a man who I still think to be the most gorgeous man I ever met.

10. I was able to go to Dallas again after 4 years and finally see my cousin’s son.

11. Weddings, showers, epic birthday parties, memorable Vegas Trips, Friday Happy Hours at West 4th & Jane, and tons upon tons of great times had with friends.

12. I discovered my love for Dogfish Head.

13. I purchased the most incredibly satisfying vibrator I’ve ever owned.

14. I became an official biker chick by obtaining my motorcycle license.

15. I fell in Love with California.

I’m sure I can think of many more, but I’ll leave it at these for now. I look forward to getting a lot more stuff down in this thing next year - so be on the lookout. ‘Til next year…

All the happiness I’ve ever felt while being in love doesn’t even come close to the amount of pain. When I meet the guy who deserves my heart, I’m never letting go. 

December 7th will be three years I’ve lived in Los Angeles. Being born and raised on the East Coast, it took quite some time for me to adjust to LA. There’s the traffic, the sparsity, the Hollywood nonsense, the dress, the style, the “I don’t care if I live in a shack, but I must drive a Range Rover” mentality. It wasn’t long before I became aware of the fact that appearances were of prime importance in this Palm Tree lined city.

I’m a simple girl. I grew up with simple means. I know what it is to be dead broke. I’ve struggled and overcome in many different areas of life, so I am certainly appreciative of everything I’ve been through to get where I am. With those experiences, I would hope that I would never reach a point in life where I am lulled into some state of brainwashing that actually causes me to believe that my appearance and possessions define who I am. I’ve seen this kind of change happen to people I know. Unfortunately, this city has that effect on people and that is one of the many reasons why I was so disgusted with it. It wasn’t mere adaptation issues because for me there was nothing that I could possibly “adapt” to. I was surrounded by complete superficiality on a constant basis. Being the no-nonsense, no bullshit kind of person I am, it was merely impossible for me to coexist amongst people with, in my opinion, such warped priorities. I became bitter. I could never see myself living in such a place in the long term. I longed to go back home where the people were “real.” I missed my mean and in your face East Coasters. At least they were honest. I loved that I could find myself in any given area and be surrounded by a mixture of people from lower class to upper class, black/hispanic/white/asian, thrift shop apparel to Gucci…and all on a fucking subway. My beloved Melting Pot. 

However, after dedicating some time here, I found that there are quite a few LA wonders to be enjoyed. Let’s get Number One out of the way right now: The weather is AMAZING. I’ve never experienced anything like this. Constant sun; constant warmth. This isn’t just a perk. I truly believe that large amounts of sunshine does wonders for your soul and health. Whilst living in NJ, I often suffered from Barometric Headaches which mostly occurred whenever it rained. A week of rain and you would find me in the most unpleasant of moods. While my environment took some work for me to get used to, the ambience certainly made up for a lot. Also, I was 70 pounds heavier when I lived in New Jersey. To be fair, I did embark on this “get fit” journey while still living on the East Coast. I had lost 30 of those pounds there and the rest on the West. SoCal living is so conducive to a healthy lifestyle that I honestly cannot say I would have been able to keep it up had I not moved here. There’s a chance I could’ve. God knows there are healthy people on the East Coast too, but it just would’ve required a lot more effort and I’m not sure I could’ve handled that challenge. I guess we’ll never know. And I’m okay with that.

Once I started focusing on the great things LA had to offer, the bad didn’t seem so important anymore. I was unhappy in other areas of my life and I think using Los Angeles as a scapegoat was the easiest fix. Once I really evaluated what it was I wanted out of life and how much I enjoyed certain things about my new life - I wasn’t willing to give that up. The glitz and the glamour of LA that I’ve come to loathe will never leave, but there are ways to avoid it. That is until I’m hit over the head with it….

I’m a Zumba Instructor. I cannot express in words how much joy Zumba has brought me. Dancing has been something I’ve loved to do my entire life. I wouldn’t consider myself a “dancer” in the sense as I’ve been trained, but if a dancer is just someone who dances her ass off whenever she hears a rhythm - well, that be me. And frankly, I’m good at it. For the most part I am a pretty modest individual, but if there’s one thing in the entire world I am confident of it’s this: I can fucking move. So when I found Zumba and saw that it incorporated dancing and fitness, it was like I struck Gold. I had a small idea in my head that I should become a Zumba instructor, but thought the idea ridiculous being that I was a Big Girl. Never did I actually think that I wouldn’t be qualified for the job, or be good at it for that matter. I was more worried of how people would perceive me. How does that even make sense? A fat girl instructing an aerobics class? Please. Trust me, even acknowledging that I ever felt that way as I type these words now leaves me disgusted. Oh well, live and learn.

In any case, it wasn’t until I found myself taking a Zumba class with an instructor who wasn’t the size of your typical fitness guru that I felt differently. This girl was overweight and she was GOOD. She could dance her ass off and the people taking the class (myself included) LOVED her. Well, shame on me for feeling any other way about it. She became my motivation to do what I had been wanting to do for some time. I still needed a push though, so one day I took a Zumba class with a horrible instructor and he was insanely fit. Can you believe it? The entire class I was disappointed (there’s nothing I hate more than feeling like I didn’t have a great workout in class) and said to myself, “I seriously could’ve done a better job.” Well, that was it. No more excuses; no more concerning myself with what other people MAY think of me. I knew I could do this and I was going to. So I did.

Remember all those things I said earlier about LA and its obsession with appearances?  Can you imagine throwing the fitness industry into that mix? Oh lawdy lawd - how it magnifies. These fitness instructors are not only insanely fit, but most of them are models/actors/dancers just trying to make money on the side. Seriously intimidating for a girl like me who, even with her 70 pounds lost, is still pretty ginormous by LA standards. In any case, I still put myself out there. What do I have to lose? I can only give it my entire heart, because that is how much I will put into it, and hope that others will see it too. 

Jump to today. I have an audition. I had been working as a Zumba instructor for a while at a small boutique gym. Zumba was a new class on their roster and while I had several dedicated students, the gym didn’t care to spend any money and/or time promoting their new class schedule. In the end, it ended up being a waste to pay all their instructors with the class attendance we were receiving. I was sad, but I moved on in hopes of acquiring another position. It has not been easy, but after checking Craigslist everyday and contacting different gyms just to put my name out there, I finally landed an audition. I was ecstatic. I tend not to get my hopes up about these things, but still - it was an opportunity and I was going to try the seize the shit out of it. After going back and forth with the Group Fitness Manager about the position and the audition, we finally schedule a time. I arrive. She sees me and immediately I can tell there is something there. Not a connection. I don’t want to come off as the paranoid freak who assumes the world is against me, but I could tell that I was not what she expected. Say what you will, but I am certain about this. She makes me wait, so I do. After about twenty minutes she comes over to grab me and we start talking about the position. She mentions that she’s had a really hard time finding instructors. I ask her why. She proceeds to tell me that she has very strict criteria that she uses in selecting Zumba instructors and that because the field is so competitive, she expects Zumba instructors to be insanely good dancers. “You know, almost on some ‘So You Think You Can Dance’ kind of stuff.” Her words. I just look at her and say, “Cool.” Her response? “Sorry, I probably should’ve told you this before you came out here. I’m not trying to discourage or intimidate you, I’m just letting you know how difficult it is, but I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it now, huh?” Well…Wow. I don’t think the gravity of that conversation really settled in until way after the audition, but I am happy to say that I did not let her disparagement affect me, nor did I feel intimidated, which may or may not have been her intention. I simply stood there with a smile on my face and said, “Not a problem. Listen, either I’m good enough or I’m not. I’m not going to stress about it.” And that was the truth. I cannot focus on what people’s judgments of me may be based on my appearance. I’m done with that. Fact is, I’m a fucking awesome Zumba instructor. I know this. And it’s not only because I know how to move, it’s because I am passionate about it. I would do this shit for free that’s how much I love it, so it doesn’t concern me with whether or not people will look at me and think that I have no place in the Fitness World, because my love for this will never fade. I’ve worked so hard for what I’ve achieved and I don’t need to prove shit to anyone. Let my work speak for itself.

And it did. I got the job.

I guess I’m glad we still live in a world where people will swallow their judgments when they’ve been proven wrong. I realize that may not always be the case, but fuck - in the city of Los Angeles, I’m going to hope it is.

It seems that as I get older the time seems to go by faster. A pretty daunting thought when you realize how temporary our time is here….

Okay, how about we don’t go down Morbid Road so early on in this post???

The Holidays are approaching. The New Year will be here in a flash. Some people love the Holidays, so much so that they experience a depression or some type of withdrawal once January rolls around. I am glad to say I am not one of those people. I am, however, one of those people who get depressed around the Holidays and I have no idea why.

I think I handle Christmas well enough. For some reason New Years always depresses me. I remember one New Years Eve while at my parents house I spent the whole night drinking sparkling wine by myself locked in a room whilst watching a SATC marathon.

Don’t ask…

This year? Well, I’m kind of indifferent about it. I know this much:  I can’t wait for this year to be behind me. I am a blessed individual with so many incredibly amazing things to be thankful for, but this year, in short, was rough. 

I had high hopes for this year. You see, I ended 2010 on an extremely low note. Days before the New Year, the man I was holding a candle for in my heart and wanted a future with so badly finally tells me has no interest in pursuing anything with me but a friendship. Which I guess would’ve been fine if he hadn’t strung me along for two years. Which may have also been fine if the reason was something other than he met someone else…who was, simply put, better than me. Okayyy..he didn’t use those words, but that’s how I understood it. In any case, I was broken, but I was thankful for the closure. I was going to put him behind me and move on finally. Hoping to find someone who is actually worthy of my love and devotion. On top of that, I was miserable with work. I hated LA and was extremely homesick.

For the first time in a while, I had a reason to look forward to the New Year.  Sounds like an excellent time to change shit up, right? New year; new start. I mean, I live by the motto:  If you’re not happy, do something about it. I had all these changes to make. Things to look forward to. Well - how does the saying go, “If you want to make God laugh - tell him your plans?” I definitely had one of those years.

Not to say I didn’t have anything positive happen. I did. A ton of great things, actually. I am not so far removed from reality where I simply focus on all the negative. And to be honest? I can’t even call everything negative. Quite a bit of hurt. A lot of lessons learned the hard way. A lot of uncertainty. It has truly been a roller coaster ride. I’m a bit of a control freak and if there’s one thing I have a hard time accepting is when I don’t have control over any given situation.

All these plans I had were thrown away. Scrapped. Going back to the drawing board wasn’t easy, but I did it. However, here I am - still waiting for pieces to fall into place and this current limbo can be disconcerting for those types of people who value a sense of certainty (aka me). I’ve come a long way, but I still have such a long distance to travel and I’m not even sure as to when this journey can truly begin. I’ve done all I can do and all that is left is for me to cross my fingers and wait. So, I wait…

I don’t like waiting…

The New Year means another year gone by. Essentially that is probably what bothers me. Every year that passes is another year gone. Another year of possibility that I won’t ever get back. I am not someone who sits by idly or is complacent. I truly believe I am a go-getter and am constantly striving to achieve something. If I were to make a list of all that I’ve accomplished in the past couple of years, I’m sure I’d be able to give myself a pat on the back, BUT - there’s always more. There’s always something else I could’ve done. There’s always something that I kind of wanted to happen and it didn’t. Those are the things that stick out when I realize the time I’ve lost. Why? What a fucked up way to look at things.

Then there’s the whole love life thing. I don’t want to get into that too much because we all know how much I love talking about it. This year really sucked in that department. I’m fine with everything now, but my heart suffered this year. That was not the plan. Being that I ended last year with such an insane heartache (and also, the flu. Ever have your heart broken and catch the flu at the same time? Your heart wants to cry until you can’t anymore, but your body hurts so much it won’t let you, or you do it and suffer the painful consequences. In short: It fucking blows), I looked at this year as an opportunity to mend my heart, focus on me and my changes and get the ball rolling in life. Well, it didn’t work out that way either. I didn’t fall in love again (THANK GOD), but I did have hope. Twice. I got involved with two different men who I ended up really feeling something for and things just ended badly for both of them. I was messed up after the first one went bad and then the second one took the cake as far as fucked up endings go. After the heartache from last year, I really wasn’t prepared for that and didn’t handle it as well as I would’ve hoped. Although, on a plus, I think I’ve become numb to these types of feelings…

Anyway, I’m dealing with that the best way I know how. I’m back on man strike with no desire or interest in pursuing anything. However, a new year means another year went by that I didn’t find “him.” Silly, I know. It’s like I’m expecting magic to happen, but I’d be lying if I said I truly didn’t feel that way. I see it happen all the time to other people. I hope it will happen to me too. Not saying it won’t; not saying it can’t, but this year is just another year where it didn’t. 

I want this New Year’s to be different. I want to be excited. I never am. I want to be. I want to look at it as a blank slate ready for anything and everything..and hopefully the best I have to offer. I’m going to try really hard to see it that way. If not, I guess I can look forward to an evening of debauchery with loved ones. That’s always a plus, right?

Oh well. Life is just going to keep moving quickly. Guess I should stop turning back and just look forward to all the opportunities that lay ahead of me…

That’s what I should do…

I’m a fucking catch, okay? I’m smart. I’m independent. I’m funny. I’m honest and to the point and I have a big heart. I can love and love fully and make someone feel like they are the center of my universe. Also, I love sex and I love to please. So, why the fuck do I sit here and think about what the fuck is wrong with me when it doesn’t work out with these loser heads?

Well, FUCK. THAT. I am loved by so many people because they think I am fantastic, so why do I allow myself to believe that I am any less than that because some fucking asshole chooses not to hold onto a good thing? 

I’m done. I’m done feeling fucked up over all of them. Truth is they were all shit. I may not have realized it then, but I thank God now that it never did work out. I just hate that I have to beat myself up so much between the rejection and the revelation. Well, that’s it. I have sooo much to offer and if these jerk offs want to give that up for whatever reason, well fuck them. I refuse to let that be my hang-up anymore. 

The next guy I deal with is going to have to come so fucking correct. I am so fucking done with dealing with these sub-par men who think they know what the fuck they want, but then realize they can’t handle it. I’m strong and I need strength by my side; fuck these fucking cowards. No time for this bullshit anymore.

That is all. 

Can someone tell me when in the hell it became August 2011? Does time seem to be flying for everyone, or is it just moi? This year for me so far has been filled with a lot of decisions and…umm…indecisions. 

For starters, I was dead set on moving back East in the beginning of the year, only to change my mind after doubt started to kick in. It’s a funny thing, doubt. It seems to creep up on me at the most inopportune times. Like, for example, after I give notice at my place of work and tell everyone in the entire universe about my plans to move back home. In any case, I couldn’t be more content with my decision to say in Sunny SoCal. It was like a switch that went off in my head. Just like that. From Hate to Love…and I’m loving my life here. Who knew?

Well, a huge decision to undo a huge decision brings a lot of decisions to make. (Tell me about it.) Earlier this year I made the choice to leave the job I hate at a company I love to do something that I can find rewarding and will bring me happiness:  Speech Therapy. This new career choice required me to get my master’s degree. No problem. I heart school. With my planning to be back East, I did all this research on where I would go to school…..back East. Presto, Change-o: Time Wasted. In addition to school research, in preparation for my huge move back to Dirty Jersey, I moved in with a friend for a few months to save some serious mula. Paying for a move across the country is no small expense. Especially when I planned to come back jobless and without any source of income whatsoever. I needed a big ol’ fat money cushion to make sure I wouldn’t be out on the street sleeping inside an industrial sized box that originally contained a year’s supply of ramen noodles that only became empty after eating the contents for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Don’t laugh. It could happen.

Look at me, World! Positive changes. I was soooo ahead of the game in preparing for this insane change in my life. That is, until I said, “Whoops! Nevermind!!!” Now I’m left with all the stress of bringing my life back to some semblance of normal. No easy feat. I must figure out what I will do for work because I just told the awesome people I’ve been working for nearly 7 years that I am no longer interested in being their employee. I gave up my beautiful one bedroom apartment that I absolutely adored so that I could take the spare bedroom at a friend’s place (which, by the way, is so crammed with her own stuff, I barely have space for my own), AND I have to figure out what the hell I want to do with my life…..still. 

That was all a few months ago. I had a list of things to accomplish that, to be honest, was pretty overwhelming. Lucky for me, I am no stranger to a good, hard challenge and getting my ass in gear. I can honestly say that everything I’ve ever gotten in this life has been due to my hard work and determination and not for one second did I think this little blip would deter me from accomplishing what I desire. 

First things first: I told my job my intentions. I, of course, had no expectation for them to extend a courtesy position for me during my transition between full time employee and full time student, but hey, what do you know? They DID. They accommodated me and I am just reminded again of how truly blessed I am to have employers that acknowledge all the hard work I’ve done for them and show their appreciation. Having a job in this economy? Definite sigh of relief. Bonus? I get to kiss Accounting GOOOOOOOD-BYE! I hated my job with every fiber in my being and now I’m transitioning into a cool marketing/production coordination position? Seriously? I get to help produce our film/video shoots/commercials? Right. up. my. alley. Couldn’t be more excited for the change.

Second: I need to get the FUCK out of my friend’s place. My dear friend has been a lifesaver in offering me her space at such an incredibly low rate and I am forever grateful. She has been an ideal roommate and I really can’t complain. However, fact remains: I hate living with people. I know people who love having roommates. They love having someone to come home to for chit-chat and dinners and all that hunky dory hoopla that goes along with cohabitation. Umm, to be frank? Fuck that shit. I like coming home to silence. I like walking around naked. I like, if I so choose, to leave my damn glass on the table. I don’t want to have to engage in conversation if I don’t feel like it and I certainly don’t like tip-toeing around someone else in my place of residence. Finding a place that fit the criteria of exactly what I was looking for was not easy and pretty dang stressful, but after some dedication, I found an incredible place! I move in at the end of this month. I am so freaking jazzed that I plan on throwing a party…of one…naked. A naked party of one in my apartment where I can do whatever pleases me without being judged and/or receiving remarks from other parties coexisting with me. Bliss? I think so.

Third: “I thought you wanted to be a Speech Therapist,” you say? I do! And I still plan to. Only problem now is: Where? I was pretty much set on attending Kean University in New Jersey and now that’s all garbage. I had my GRE exam scheduled in NY for the end of September. That just seems a little implausible now. So, what do I do? Easy part was rescheduling the GRE. School part? Not so easy. Getting a response from these departments was damn near impossible. With so much else going on in my life, I really had to stay focused to make sure I could receive some direction from these universities so I can get my butt enrolled. I’m still not 100% there, but I do have an Orientation I’m attending at CSUN on the 22nd and that is the first step in this incredibly long odyssey I am facing. Truthfully? I’m beyond excited to go back to school to study something I’ll actually enjoy. This whole process can’t start soon enough. For now? I’m spending my time studying for the new bane of my existence: The GRE. And as much as I’ll complain to the high heavens about it, I’m still excited over it. But don’t tell my facebook friends I said that…

When I see everything outlined as it is above, I guess it’s not so crazy to believe it is August already. It just doesn’t feel like it. 2011 thus far has been a year of ups and downs, but all and all a lot of hard work and some life changing decisions. Oh, and pleasant surprises! I recently got a job at a local gym as a Zumba Instructor and this has made me incredibly happy. Making people sweat by doing something I absolutely love is an unexplainable high that I am seriously addicted to. Everything seems to be working out pretty well and I’m in a really good place right now. So much so, that I took the time out to write about it. 

I am a firm believer in happiness is everyone’s right to pursue. If you’re not happy in your life or don’t like the situation you are in, change it. It’s just that simple. May not be easy, but it is that simple. This is my life and I want to make the best of it every moment I can. I have received equal amounts of support and shade thrown my way all along this process and I take it all into consideration, but in the end, only I know what will make me happy. Right now? I’m happy. Everything is falling into place and I see great things ahead. Pretty amazing, eh? And to top it all off, I’ve met a man that makes me smile on a daily basis. Well, maybe met isn’t the appropriate word since we kind of grew up together. I’ve been reacquainted with a man from my past who has given me a new reason to smile. Everyday. That’s better. Don’t know what will come of our situation just yet, but for now, it’s nice. My life is nice. My job is nice. This man is nice. And I’m going to ride this feeling for as long as I can because, shit, I deserve a little nice. Don’t you?

zenhumanism:

A rejection is proof you are taking risks and trying new things. It’s not a sign of failure, but a chance to learn something new or to improve. Success too early on, though desirable, robs us of our chance to grow and to refine ourselves.

I’ve become somewhat of an expert on this subject. I guess I can look forward to all the growth I’ve made. =P

(via doismelllikekush-deactivated201)