Making an Attempt to Write Again

Photo by Laura Williams
You can find more of her amazing work here:
 On her blog: Climb the Rainbow
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So at this very moment I am sitting on my bed, with a tissue sticking out of my left nostril to keep another bloody nose at bay, attempting to write a blog entry into my iPad without my glasses.

I don't really know what to say. I can't answer why it's been so long since I wrote a blog entry other then I just haven't been able to write.

Life took over...

Between school, my health, family trouble, men dodging, psycho ex boyfriends, new friends, incompetent scholarships administration, and my daily struggles with my flip flopping insecurities, I haven't been able to express it in words other then multilingual expletives. 

But if there's one thing I can talk about now, its that I'm trying to regain my self-worth and how I'm beginning to learn to see myself differently.

Being a overweight 32 year old (though I keep telling people I'm 33 for some reason) college student is a lot harder then I thought, and when I say hard I don't mean the school work. I mean the constant bubbling up of all my old teenage baggage. My self-image hangups, my need for people to like me, my need for perfection, my anal retentive patterns, and my fallback mode of self-destructive self sabotage.

I kept feeding myself the lie that if I were thinner, in a relationship, had my degree, had a steady good paying job, that I would finally be confident and happy, but that's a load of crap.
I wanna be thin because it would make others more acceptable of me. I want to be thin because that's what other people want and if you don't want what other people want then your labeled defective. I want to be thin because the guys I'm attracted to are not attracted to women like me. I want a degree because I don't want to be looked down upon, I don't want people to say that I'm less then them and I want a steady good paying job for the same damn reason.

I mean What The FUCK!
(and yes I am fully aware that most of what I just said revolved around my weight...:-/)

That is the shit that runs through my head and I am embarrassed by it. I am embarrassed by the absurdity of my own thoughts. The juvenile girly shit I loathe in others I am spewing into my own head.

How is it I am buying into this crap?

I rationalize it by telling myself that I have to loose weight for my health, or that I'm getting my degree because I want to learn, or that I want a good steady job so I can pay my bills. But when you remove all the frilly lace, the bows, and you strip down the paint, it's the same piece of crap reasons they've always been, the need to be accepted.

It's horrible to realize that the free thinking, independent, non-corporate, person you thought you were, is nothing more then a costume that comes crumbling down like face paint during a summer heat wave, and that's what college has done to me. Made me realize that I never dealt with my issues, just covered them up in increasing amounts of body-fat and some sort of self induced Stockholm syndrome.

But the crazy part is, around the same time I realized this about myself was the same time I realized it was no longer true.

I first noticed it a few days ago at a high school friends birthday get together. Here I was in my nightmare scenario, by myself at a party filled with fashion insiders, models, and photographers. My high school friend who is a model herself and is dressed to the nines, introduces me to all her friends and coworkers, and the casual chit chat among strangers begins. In that moment I told myself "fuck it" I may not belong here among these beautiful people but I didn't come here for them, I came here for my friend. So I waded in head first into social shark territory deciding to be my natural, honest, and joke cracking self  in the same way I normally am with my friend. I didn't worry about my foul mouth, or my lack of fashion knowledge. I didn't care because it didn't matter. Then a few hours later I'm standing in a little group of models with my friend standing next to me, just talking and cracking jokes about the issues of living in NY when my friend just asks them out of nowhere "isn't she beautiful?" which was in reference to me. Without hesitation these tall women of fashion land agreed with her.
I was dumbfounded.
Not one condescending back handed complement. Not one role of the eyes or moments hesitation. Not one mention of having a pretty face, nice hair, or pretty eyes, all complements above the chin (which to me has always been the not so secret code for "cute but fat"). Not one word replacement of beautiful with sweet, or charming. Just complete honest agreement with no jokes thrown in.

Sure, it was nice to be labeled beautiful by a bunch of fashion models (yes the acceptance thing again...), but what surprised me was that they weren't talking about just my outward appearance, but me as a whole overstuffed enchilada. For the first time strangers were complementing me for being me. I was being accepted because I wasn't trying to be accepted.

Yea, call me confused. 

But then again it made sense. The people I am drawn to. The people I see as beautiful or intriguing are usually the people who are confident in themselves and are not trying to be something that they're not. The people I've always found to be beautiful are not the people who are the cookie cutter "nice looking" model types but the people who are unique, interesting, and owning it. And somehow, on that night, I became one of those people. Granted I lost that confidence power-up the very next day (no miracles here) but now I know what it feels like, and it has opened my eyes.

I realized that over my time in college and probably even a little before that when I first fell ill, I started to see myself in a new way. I started to like myself for who and am, as I am, without even knowing it, and it's only now that my change in self view is beginning to show through on the surface. I started to appreciate things about myself as the challenges I faced made me learn more about who I truly am. It's hard to explain but I had to face the hard truth behind my motivations in order for me to see the positive changes I had already, unconsciously made.

I spent so many years only focusing on the negative things I wanted to change, that I never truly got to know me as a person and going to college has forced me to face myself, find myself, and for the first time in my life I can truly say I like me.

So here's to "in keeping with the situation!..." (quote from a favorite movie of mine)

Re-awaking My Inner Voice: Another Apocalypse Let Down and College Year 1 Locked DOWN!!!

I'm Still ALIVE!!...or did I die and hell looks exactly like my life...lol...if that's the case then hell aint too bad so far...guess I'll never know...lol
Some media actually asked the descendants of the Mayans if they were ready for the end of the world and they looked at the guy like he was crazy. One dude even said that us freaking out about it was like "freaking out every year when the calender ends on December 31st. The world doesn't end at the last page of our calender, so why would we think it would end on the Mayans calendar." He was also going to work on Friday just like any day...lol
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Well here I am again....
It's been so long since I've written just for myself I feel like a foal after being born trying to find her legs. Reconnecting with my inner voice, my writers voice, is proving itself rather tricky especially since I still have that left over stress from finishing my first fall semester.

But that's right Bitches!...I've officially finished my first year of college...What..WHAT!! but I have yet to fully accept it for some reason...
I actually still feel anxious like I have an essay or paper that I forgot to write, or some project I forgot to do so I can't seem to relax. But maybe I just need to get my grades so it can sink in and my sphincter can relax...

Then there's the ex crap.

Yes more ex crap!
Since October I've had a lot of trouble unconsciously thinking about the ex, missing him, worrying about him when Sandy hit, and because of the storm we spoke again. But when you miss someone you always just seem to remember the good times and I had to remind myself it wasn't all "good times". There was a reason I broke up with him and that hadn't changed. So though I was writing poems in my head about how I felt just needing to expel the crap that was clouding my vision and weighing on my chest I couldn't. I was so consumed with school work I barely had time to do that let alone write for my own sanity. It got so bad that it was actually distracting me and I was slipping up with my work load. That was when I gave myself a reality check, put my priorities in order, and really threw myself completely into what was important, my education. I had to remind myself that I've come too far to let anything and I mean ANYTHING stop me from following my path.

He and I were like two puzzle pieces that look like they fit perfectly together, but in fact one piece has a small rough corner while the other has a smooth one. No matter how hard you try to shove those pieces together, pushing and forcing them, they're just not gonna fit. At least not unless you cut one of them, but then if you cut it, what was the point of doing the puzzle in the first place.
But life moves on and I know my life isn't over. In fact I had a very sweet though rather hyper 16 year old competing with this other guy on who was gonna sit next to me in class. Both were complete flirts which I wont lie was rather nice when the last guy you were with made you feel unattractive and it was very sweet in a creepy kinda way considering I'm old enough to be his mother...lol...but it was nice just to know someone was interested. Obviously nothing came of it because I'm not a pedophile, and the other dude was sweet, but not my type so I made sure not to be too friendly with either one and  finals came and went without me having to deal with any uncomfortable conversations.

But speaking about dudes flirting with me, there was this one real "winner" in my Biology Lab class who was one of the reasons I started taking kickboxing classes, because I wanted to literally KILL HIM!!!
All I can figure is that he must live in one of those pretty people bubbles believing that because he's good looking all he has to do is flirt with his female classmates and they'll fall all over themselves to basically do his work for him. Well I was his kryptonite because non of his tricks worked on me and his inability with me effected his game with our other remaining female lab partners. If anything the harder he tried with me, the more it just pissed me off. He's one of those assholes who doesn't want to do his work, wants you to tell him the answers cause he doesn't want to think, or will argue with you if you know his answer is wrong and you tell him so. He must be so used to people telling him yes and giving him what he wants that when I first told him no he looked so shocked that I laughed at him.
The last lab we had together we were all using our phones to take pictures of some papers we needed to use to help practice for our final and he made the mistake of telling me to just send him my picture. That was my breaking point. I looked at him and the words just flew out of my mouth.
"Excuse Me!!...You did NOT just tell Me to send you a picture of something that you are fully capable taking yourself." He then said with a smile "Oh you know I don't like taking pictures". To which I responded. "You know...your so full of shit! I don't give a flying rats ass what you "like" to do, you got a cell phone just like the rest of us, you can take your own damn picture! I'm not your Mama!"
Of course he laughed just as assholes do, and my other lab partners who were also fed up with his shit just looked at me with satisfied smiles on there faces. I then spent the rest of the time we had left in class trying to keep myself from leaping across the table like some 70's TV show cop leaping over the hood of a car and punching him the throat.

Ok...that's enough for now...

(photo above The White Wolf Woman by ~dkjart)

Just a Little Something I Wrote for 4/20...

This is something I wrote on 4/20 that people kept asking where I got it...
I told them it came out of my head, that I wrote it, and was repeatedly greeted with shock...
So I choose to see that as a compliment...lmao...and I post it here for you all to read...
Funnest part about this whole thing is that I haven't smoked in a couple of years...lol

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"God looked down upon the earth and wept,
for He saw his gift of humor and merriment being cast aside.
So He in his great wisdom took the seed of truth from up on high and planted it on earth. 
The seed grew into a mighty weed and God said "Partake of this weed through breath and fire for within liesthe gates to God's truth"
So each year we honor His gift and his great truth...
That life is a greatest joke every told and that He who lives on high is the one and only comedian...

Happy 4/20 Everyone!

(photo above by danishacook52 , Photobucket, and is directly linked)

30 and in College: Walking the Writers Gauntlet...

So College is in full swing and I am pooped to say the least...
I had my first traumatizing encounter with ignorant criticism in my English class over a piece I wrote about mothers. I based my piece on the Makepeace Thackeray quote:

"Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children."

Granted, I knew the quote because of the movie "The Crow" but it stayed with me and I felt it was a good jumping off point to describe what motherhood means to me...


Oh why did I do that!!


I know that even mentioning the word God in any public place is a dangerous thing because people don't hear past the word, but I didn't expect it to be that bad...
Instead of my classmates hearing the point of what I wrote they heard that I was saying mothers are like God, or are God, and before I knew it, every person commenting on my piece was using the word offended either because they were spiritual or because they don't believe in God. Even one person said something about that she was offended because "what about women who get raped...." which I don't even know where that came from.
Only one person got the point of my 30 min essay, and understood that what I was expressing was the sentiment of the quote. That the way a baby feels or sees their mother is similar to the way some people feel about their God, and that to be a mother is a great responsibility.
Later after the shock of that shit storm passed (took a few days) I was able to laugh at it. 
I finally had me a true writers moment. To be a writer is to express yourself, open your heart, and risk getting it trampled on for the sake of your art.


I walked the gauntlet of the writer.


But it wasn't until I had go back to that class and read another essay out loud (I was so nervous I wanted to puke) that I knew I was going to be ok. 
Ironically enough one of the topics our teacher gave us that day was terror. So I wrote about my issues with stage fright, the very thing I was coping with in that moment. 
I described terror and how it wasn't anything like fear, which it is confused with so often in our society. I told of my first experience with stage fright, describing in first person detail what I went through. But this time after I finished reading my piece to the class, I got nothing but really positive comments and high praise. They loved it, they loved how I wrote, how I made them feel what I was going through, how clear I was, and some even said I should write novels because listening to my essay made them want to hear more.
It was like I had entered an alternate universe, a Bizarro world if you will. Within a week I went from being the shit on the bottom of everyone's shoe, to a writer worthy of publishing novels.


I wont lie...I left that classroom feeling high as a kite. But as I was leaving I checked myself. 
Man can be a fickle creature. We can love something one minuet and despise it the next. Just because they liked my latest piece doesn't mean they will love my future essays. I can fall from grace just as easily as I rose.

The way I see it is at least I now know that I can survive a painful shit storm of criticism and come out the other side swinging.


I am finally walking the true path of the writer... 

(Photo by gotitlikethat97 ,  Photobucket and is directly linked)