Archive for August, 2005

Uncensored

August 25, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

If there’s a book you really want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it. ~Toni Morrison

I’m feeling lukewarm. Not quite blah, but not exactly the most ecstatic person in the world. Everything has become hum drum, and yet I feel like there is more excitement in the horizon. I’m going to have to wait it out a bit I suppose. I abhor waiting.

I could call it pergatory, actually from now on I will call it pergatory. Everything is fine and perfect and yet imperfect at the same time. It’s all part of this learning curve that I’ve been on for 17 years; and I can’t seem to escape it. It’s a place where I’m caught between holding on to a childhood I never really wanted and springing into being a full on adult who can make her own decisions. I still ask my parents for permission and I still think that when I do something wrong I’m going to get yelled at.

The things I worry about are unfounded and ludircous. I’ve become this neurotic person, that worries herself to death and then feels it imperative to write about how truly neurotic I am. It’s this cycle that I apparently won’t let myslef escape. So what happens is, I begin to sensor things about myself in talking, writing wherever, out of fear.

I love the quote above from Toni Morrison. I really want to read a book about what you go through during pergatory. The time between letting go and holding on. I suppose I should be thankful that I had an epiphany to write about what happens right when you enter life after college. And yet I wish that someone else had before me.

I hear stories about it all the time. During my six week unemployment, my mother kept telling me how she was forced to live with my aunt for three months until she was able to find employment. She can say now-almost 30 years later-that it ended well for her.

But I want to know what happened to other people. Does everyone become successful? Probably not. Does everyone who goes through this phase get what they want out of life? Did the years of education pay off?

The point is that I need to stop censoring myself and to just do the things I want to do, write about the things that I want to write about and stop being so damn neurotic.

But I’ll keep asking myself; how will it end?

Who are you?

August 24, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“How am I not myself?”-I heart Huckabees

While reading some Vespa-Rosso today and having terrible writer’s block, I found this and decided to fill it out. Enjoy-I’m such a dork.

have you ever
Been so drunk you blacked out: yes. My 21st birthday when Julie decided to play “guess the shot”. The shot was gin.

Missed school because it was raining: no, but I did once convince a school nurse to let me go home due to an ice cream headache

Put a body part on fire for amusement: What?!?
Been hurt emotionally: yes. It’s called middle school. And good Lord those therapy bills…

Kept a secret from everyone: It’s all I ever do. My friends think I have a secret life…and I do. It keeps things more interesting

Had an imaginary friend: yup two. Mimi and Hockie.

Cried during a movie: During the last part of Deep Impact when Tea Leoni’s character and her father are standing on the shore waiting for the wave to sweep them away. I used to cry during Beaches all the time, but I got over that.

Had a crush on a teacher: Paco freaking Gomez. He could tell you anything you ever wanted to know about Velazquez’s Las Meninas and then go onto tell you everything about ETA. And those euro-shirts. “Jesus-he’s like the light”…you had to be there.

Ever thought an animated character was hot: Aladdin in that vest. Good Lord.

Had a New Kids on the Block tape: “You got the right stuff…baby…” Need I go on?

Cut your hair: In 5th grade I noticed my widow’s peak and so I decided to Nair it off. I had to cut myself bangs.

when was the last time you:peed your pants: ask my dad. He’ll tell you all about the time I peed in the rental car when we were in Orlando. I was 8.

hugged someone: Monday. Elizabeth Jean.

kissed someone: he he he.

cried over someone: I cried because I was going to miss someone and that was May 6th all the way from Spain to Dulles.

favorites
Shampoo: Suave Milk and Honey.

Soap: dove. It takes me back

Color: PINK!

Day or Night: Day.

Summer or winter: I’m from upstate New York where we get all seasons. And we all know that upstate NY is where all the Manhattanites go in the fall for the foliage. We are cool some times.

Lace or satin: how about neither…? Cashmere though…love it!

Cartoon Characters: Doug. Patti Mayonaise was so great.

food: Anything from B. Smith’s or Oceanaire. Pad Thai, pizza, crispy eggplant from Mr. Chen’s…do you want me to go on?

Ice cream: tiramisu gelato from Blue Ice in Rome. Chubby Hubby Ben and Jerry’s.

Fave Subject: diet code red mountain dew and US Congress.

Normal Drink: diet code red mountain dew, Yellowtail Shiraz, Vodka Tonic

right now
clothes you’re wearing: blue club monaco sweats, Victoria Secret tank, skagen watch, platinum tiffany’s bracelet, mikimoto pearls (all I ever wear), and a single pearl around my neck, Summer by Kenzo

feeling: tired but full of ideas to write about

Eating: California Pizza Kitchen tostado pizza

Drinking: water from the ol’ Nalgene

Thinking of: All the people I know going back to school right now and how thankful yet sad I am, that I won’t be for the first time in 17 years and what more to write about

Listening to: Law and Order

in the last 24 hours

Cried: yes, last night during House.
Worn a skirt: yup earlier today
Drove a car: no.

Do you believe in:
Yourself: very rarely…I’m the eternal pessimist.

Santa Claus: not anymore

Tooth Fairy: not anymore

destiny/fate: Things just work out in these perfect ways…I don’t get it

Angels: no

Ghosts: no

friends and life:
Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend: Nope.

Like anyone: I just had a terrible experience, so no. And I love being out of like.

Who do you cry to: The madre.

When did you cry the most: May 5th 2005, immediately after dinner on Avenida Florida all the way through Serrano 41, in the cab on the way back to my host mother’s house (simultaneously crying/throwing up because I was so drunk), in the cab to Barajas, while waiting for my flight to Munich and I stopped there. It was bad.

Best feeling in the world: as of right now, it’s getting nice comments on the blog and just when things go well. But then again, for me, it’s the little things

Vinyasa and Shavasana

August 24, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“You’re fine, all right, you’re fit as a fucking fiddle”-Wonderboys

At times neurotic doesn’t even begin to describe what I am. The girl who has given herself TMJ and cries on her day off, because she forgot to send out one email. Some therapist is probably going to come across this and leave me a comment about the social disorder I have.

I get scared, I cry, I’m obsessive compulsive and I’m neurotic. I sometimes cry during 60 minutes.

“I didn’t know you were scared…”
“About what?”
“About life. Adult things”

This comes from someone I’ve known since I was 15. When you’re 21, knowing someone for six years is a pretty long time. But that’s not the point. The point is that I need to de-stress. Relax some. Yoga.

I used to be a gymnast then a cheerleader. In competition, I was in the very front, because I was the only one who could do a split. Good Lord, what I wouldn’t give to get back that flexibility. Yoga is supposed to relax you. Hot yoga-yoga done in a 97.8 degree room-gets out all of the toxins. The first time I went, I left on cloud fucking nine, like I’d had a shot of Prozac instead of espresso in my coffee.

Doing shavasana is the nice and easy part. It’s at the end. You lay there. You are nothing, you think of nothing, there is nothing to worry about. You’re just free. Vinyasas are the non-relaxing part. Where you’re doing planks and cobras and down dogs and you’re wondering whether or not the human body is meant to be in these positions. People laugh at yoga, but trust me, this shit’s not easy. Then again one can counter that and say that nothing is supposed to be that easy; and yes it gets relaxing over time.

(This is the part where I whine, speak in hyperbolas and become contradictory) I want to be less neurotic and more relaxed now. Which I would be if it wasn’t for people, not any specific person, but people in general, were all less OCD and could just live.

We all make mistakes, I fuck up all the time and I’ll be the first to admit my imperfections (but that requires several hours and several thousand dollars in therapy). It’s because I’m human. Despite popular beliefs I cry and I am terrified of failure. And I want to be in some Zen place, where I am nothing and need not worry about anything.

I know I know, give it time. Only time will tell…blah blah blah. A little shavasana would be just fabulous right now.

Balancing Acts

August 23, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“I’m concerned about people walking around without some means of emergency cash. But we all agree what an emergency is, and a shoe sale at Nordstrom is not.”-MSN Money

Last November I lost my job. But it was ok then, because a) it wasn’t my fault and b) I was still in college and had just finished this great feat of working 50 hours a week and taking 13 credits-just for shits and giggles. I ended that semester with a 3.4. The following semester I went to Madrid and squandered all of my money away on wine and travel to Amsterdam, Morocco and just generally gallivanting through Spain. When I say squandered I mean, that every last dime was gone before my mother arrived for spring break to Majorca. She came equipped with Suze Orman’s book for the “Young Fabulous & Broke”.

I arrived back to DC in May, unemployed but thankfully there was that graduation money. Then I discovered that Anthropologie makes things above a size 6 and well…you know.

Then she cut me off. My own mother, cut me off.

I have very few memories of me not being able to get things that I wanted. I asked for it, I usually got it. Not because I was spoiled, but because thankfully my parents could buy me the things I wanted and were willing to let me do what I wanted with my life without being hounded for it. Like college for example-that shit isn’t cheap, but it was all taken care of, thanks to my mother. A studio to myself cost the amount of a three bedroom luxury apartment in Albany. My rent cost more than my parent’s mortgage. Holy Shit. And while doing this, we traveled, golfed, and bought homes in Martha’s Vineyard. We did all the things that good middle class African Americans do (I hate to admit it but there was even Jack and Jill, I stopped myself at becoming a Delta or AKA). I was introduced to coach and good shoe shopping. And that you have to just do things sometimes to make yourself happy.

Now I’ve been cut off. I get nervous on those occasions when I have to ask for money, because deservedly so, my parents can deny me. I can’t freely go shopping. Brief digression; for my 19th birthday I received a platinum card. My mother is a very smart woman, but good Lord. To this day I contend that purchasing three pairs of $100+ jeans is a necessity.

I have to keep a budget and after two months, I still just barely break even. And this isn’t just me, growing up nicely and then being cut off. It’s an epidemic! Parents who bring you up in this nice and comfortable lifestyle, suddenly saying; “That’s it kid. We’re over.” I for one was devastated. Hell, you’ll still see the affects today. Case in point the conversation with JB yesterday in which I professed that I only had $20 and she had $53:
“Actually $40 I’m saving for Saturday night”
“What’s Saturday night?”
“The Jimmy Buffet concert. I want to be nice and liquored up before I go so I can stay away from the $7 beers”

Maybe I can guilt my mother into letting me hang on a little longer. But probably not.

Just Heavenly

August 22, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

In New York City’s war on crime, the worst criminal offenders are pursued by the detectives of the Major Case Squad. These are their stories.-Law and Order: Criminal Intent

My mother used to get so pissed at me because I was a pathological liar. I would lie about anything and everything and then lie about lying pathologically. Now that I’m older I can see how that was. I sincerely apologize Peg.

I’m a big fat liar. Mostly it’s those times when I want my alone time. I live alone, but I’m only home alone enough to enjoy Everybody Loves Raymond at 7:30 and then sleep.

I’ve lied a few times this week, but if I give you exact days then friends will know who I’ve been lying to-that’s no fun. The best part about having different sets of friends is that they probably won’t encounter each other until a birthday, and then they’ll all be too drunk to remember. Or at least that’s the plan. You see I tell group A, that I have plans with group B. Then I tell group B, that I have plans with group A. Then I sit at Jane’s and watch episodes of Laguna Beach and seven hours of Law and Order: SVU or Criminal Intent.

Law and Order is my therapy, especially since I have no time for therapy anymore, I need something. I write and watch Law and Order and it makes me happy.

Brief digression: Vincent freaking D’Onofrio man. Some people (like my father and brother) can’t stand that Detective Goren knows everything, but my God, it’s my secret turn on. Sometimes, I even give up Desperate Housewives just to watch CI.

So now everyone knows that I will give up any day of the week for Law and Order. I’m addicted. It’s sad and pathetic really.

I love it.