Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Kidding around with K

Crazy Rafiki, Disneyworld May 15 ,2009
I am not a serious person. I can be serious for a while. I can act like a grown up. But my nature is to laugh, hysterically. I kid around like nobody's business. I find terribly corny jokes hilarious. I live for fun.

I get this sense of juvenile joy from my mom. My mom is all about embracing the humor in life. It's also part of the reason why I want to work with kids. So much fun, so innocent, so exciting.

This weekend we're going to Disneyworld- honestly my favorite place in the world tied with the beach. We planned it last month and I have had this overwhelming sense of joy ever since. It feels like I have a nebula in my chest ready to explode with fun and excitement.

Don't wanna, Disneyworld May 16, 2009



Do you like to kid around? Do you think those that do are childish? What do you find fun?

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

J is to joie de vivre

Joie de vivre (French pronunciation: [ʒwa də vivʁ]joy of living) is a French phrase often used in English to express a cheerful enjoyment of life; an exultation of spirit. Joie de vivre


joie de vivrenounif there is one symbol that represents French society and its joie de vivre, it is theParis caféjoyfulnesscheerfulnesscheerinesslightheartedness,happinessjoygaietyhigh spiritsélanjollityjovialityexuberance,ebulliencelivelinessvivacityverveeffervescencebuoyancyzest,zestfulnessinformal pepzingliterary blitheness. ANTONYMS sobriety,depression.
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I first heard this phrase not too long ago and fell in love. Those French- always so clever with their abstract concepts-turned phrases. Then I thought about it. Why don't Americans have a translatable phrase for this? Oh that's right, because the American way is to live to work, not work to live.


Right now I can't say I'm much different, stuck balancing all these different identities in my life like many others. (Why do we create so many identities for ourselves? That's a whole other topic).


But it seems so obvious: the joy of living. How often do we fall ill and pronounce life-altering changes like, "when I feel better I'm going to be on top of the world..." and then end up reverting back to our old, over-consumed, preoccupied, stressed ways?


I know I can be guilty of this. Which is why I made one of my life-resolutions to start enjoying more, stressing less. After all, our life is composed of many "too beautiful a day not to share it with the flowers".




How often do you genuinely feel joie de vivre?




**And thank you everyone who sent well-wishes for my friend. She was just released from the hospital and sends her thanks as well!*

Monday, April 11, 2011

I's Insight versus Ignorance?

**My best friend who has been living with us was admitted to the hospital yesterday morning and will most likely be there through tomorrow. Point being I have barely left the hospital which has no service. Again, sorry for not having the chance to visit blogs but I’m running on 3 hours of sleep and all over Manhattan/Queens**


My belief as a therapist is that insight will enable individuals to overcome adversity and achieve progress towards their self-actualizing process.

But this article brings about a good point. Does insight always help? Sure, ignorance can be blissful but it depends your philosophy on life, I suppose. If you’re looking for a quick fix and purposely avoiding the intricacies of life as you know it then gaining insight will probably have a negative impact (at first) if you’re not quite ready to delve into that arena. Though working through it can help.

Life, as I’ve learned, is all about timing.

Are you for insight or “ignorance”? I like to think I’m insightful but there are certainly times when I choose ignorance over awareness.

Saturday, April 09, 2011

H's Happiness Health

There are flowers everywhere for those who look- Matisse

Over the past decade or so, the field of positive psychology has flourished thanks to researchers such as Martin Seligman and Mihaly Csikszentmihaly among several others. And it's just about everywhere we look in pop culture. It's all about making yourself happy, what's wrong with you that you're not like people in commercials with giant smiles running through a grassy field with dogs.

But happiness is particularly important to me. Not necessarily because I strive to avoid unhappiness- that's not healthy. My family has a long, long history of "mental health issues". Enough so that my main priority as of recent years is to keep track of my happiness meter to evade the scary shadow of emotional catastrophe.

So what do I do? I'm far from figuring out what makes me tick and a part of me doesn't even want to know that much. But I try to eat well, observe my emotional characteristics, and semi- recently took up actively exercising.

After all, it's not about just knowing. It's about learning and living.

Luke: What's in there?
Yoda: Only what you take

What makes you happy?

Friday, April 08, 2011

G's Gratitude

Today, I am grateful for surviving the first session of a seven hour class I am required to take the over the next four Fridays. Whoever came up with the idea to create a "modified schedule course" for evaluation methods is very, very silly.

But I am grateful for making it back home. For my health, for my family, for the incredible amount of love in my life, for all the support I receive.

On a more global level, I'm grateful for the goodness both of and in people, for the fact that we still live in a somewhat liberal society, and that the world hasn't ended yet!

And this evening, I am grateful that I have a lovely comfortable bed that I am going to conk out in within the next five minutes. My brain has officially evaporated.

Thursday, April 07, 2011

Faithfully F


Faithfully frazzled that is. The past few days have been an absolute blur- I can't even remember what I did Tuesday but I remember frantically flying through the city. Yesterday involved a long, long, job interview process which ended with me most likely getting a job. Point being, I've been so busy I've barely even opened my computer because the few moments I've had to relax I've spent them vertically with eyes closed. (AKA sorry for not getting around to blogs)

Faith is a tricky subject for me. And I'm not necessarily speaking to the religious and spiritual aspects of it but rather faith in myself and those closest to me. Until recently, I had never quite correlated the idea of confidence and faith as synonymous. But they are.

And it ties into the idea of accepting oneself. Right now, I'm on the precipice of several things and if I miscalculate my moves I'll waver and crash head first into an eight ounce glass of water without the freedom to wiggle. Trying to manage the last five (hopefully) stressful weeks of graduate school in order to graduate on my 24th birthday, searching for a job within my field, balancing my needs for financial security with the needs of Jonathan at this phase in his life, and family.

I'm weary of not choosing the right path per say. But on some level, I've managed to create a sense of faith in myself. Maybe because I have the avid support of friends and family; they've managed to instill this loving security blanket around me. But at the same time, I've realized I've yet to drastically misstep in my life.

I've blundered a bit, but I've bounced back harder. So if I slip and flail through the air, I have faith there will be a trampoline waiting for me at the bottom to ricochet me back towards the sky. Everything happens for a reason.

What do you have faith in?

Wednesday, April 06, 2011

E is to Empathically Emote

"When you extract a splinter it hurts, briefly, but then you feel relief, even pleasure. When you find a fault in yourself it will hurt, briefly, but it you keep going and acknowledge the fault, you are likely to be rewarded with a flash of pleasure that is mixed, oddly, with a hint of pride. It is the pleasure of taking responsibility for your own behavior. It is the feeling of honor."
-Jonathan Haidt- The Happiness Hypothesis

Obvious: We are emotional creatures.
Not so obvious: Sometimes what we think are emotional reactions are really our brains interpretation of      them turning them into thoughts.
Semi-obvious: It's much harder to identify the fundamental emotion underlying said thoughts

Maybe all of the above statements are well-known facts, but I learned them the hard way (graduate program in mental health counseling anyone). Where you're graded on discovering emotional awareness, insight, and developing appropriate cognitive reactions in yourself in order to then help others.

And these emotional experiences affect our self-esteem (obvious). And this in turn affects are ability to empathize. We may confuse our own emotional/thought processes as an attempt to demonstrate to our friends we understand them, that we hear them.

But do we? Think about it. How often are you having a conversation with a friend when you say "Man, I feel your pain" but what you're really doing is rehashing your own experience and projecting it on to another? How often do you ask others how they are doing and let them get by with a simple "Fine, Great, How are YOU?"

My point is, we think of tend to think of emotions as a by product of life when the truth is that for most of us our emotions are unconsciously or not, the driving force maneuvering our thoughts, our actions, and broadly our overall existence. But we tune out, instead of tuning in creating barriers in communication.

And quite frankly, I think its time to start tuning in. Because if we can't figure our how we're feeling we're far from capable of empathizing with others and creating meaningful connections.

Tuesday, April 05, 2011

D to Do less doing

"If you do not change direction you may end up where you are heading" -Lao Tzu

What ever happened to the act of less is more? Specifically, doing less. But where should we draw the line as to what constitutes the positive aspects of "doing less"? They say the purpose of technology is/was to maximize our productivity: less effort into each project amounts to having Xtimes more projects to do.

These days quantity seems to surpass the importance of quality. We're glued to our smart phones because they hold our 10 different fancy apps for all of our different tasks because we've adapted to the paradox of consumerism so much so that we can't seem to decide what silly app is best for us. (Or maybe this is my personal experience when discovering the capabilites of my iPhone).

Where are we headed when are heads aren't even looking at our direction? We rely on GPS to get places instead of learning the routes. We use twitter to masturbate our need for "connection" in as few words as possible. We immerse ourselves into everything and anything because we want more more more with less effort, less thought, less emotion attached.

I'm all for doing less. But only if doing less leads to being able to relax- not doing more of everything else.

Here's to doing less.

Monday, April 04, 2011

C is for Character (istics)

character |ˈkariktər|nounthe mental and moral qualities distinctive to an individual runningaway was not in keeping with her character.• the distinctive nature of something gas lamps give the area its character.• the quality of being individual, typically in an interesting or unusual way the island is full of character. 

Personality is a rather fixed set of characteristics and traits. Some inherited others well, not so much. Sometimes, I feel as if I'm dramatizing my natural characteristics to fulfill certain personas. And there have been times when I have been described as "being a character".

But what characteristics compose my disposition?

Stubbornly adamant, slightly obsessive, passionately slothish, romantically motivated, sleepily hyper, shyly silly, whimsically catlike, cunningly witty.

I think about my closest friends and my family. People I encounter in random circumstances. Everyone is a character in their own right. And I wonder, is that because I've (or we've) made them out to be? Or is it safe to say their characteristics have crafted their own character?
"CatLady",  April 2011

What defines your Character?

Saturday, April 02, 2011

B is Between Being Balanced

I think like a genius, I write like a distinguished author, I speak like a child.
— Vladimir Nabokov

I wanted to hold this post off until the last moment because I was struggling between deciding between balance and being. Here I am with the moments ticking still unsure of where to go, and where to find my own balance in being.

So I'm just going to Be. Being is such an effort. You know, really being. Being conscious of your thoughts, your emotions, your movements. It's easier to drift off and focus on space- or the absence of space in my mind. It's easy to be sucked into the vacuum that entails our daily existence. But it takes power to become aware of ourselves.

But Being is not just what we are as sentimentally propelled creatures. It's cyclical. We must be in order to become. We must become in order to be. And as we do so, we must maintain balance to bloom.


"To find the balance you want, this is what you must become. You must keep your feet grounded so firmly on the earth that it's like you have 4 legs instead of 2. That way, you can stay in the world. But you must stop looking at the world through your head. You must look through your heart." 
-Elizabeth Gilbert

Friday, April 01, 2011

A is for Acceptance

"Ruin is the road to transformation" - E. Gilbert

Last night's meltdown was dramatic and long awaited. In retrospect, most of my life has been comprised of similar events. Which brings me to my point: no matter how many "self-help" books I read, and how much I study psychology in a partially vain effort to figure myself out, I will be stuck on this rickety, treadmill until I learn to and can fully (to my ability) accept myself.

I know, I know. Obviously not groundbreaking. But in the wee hours of this morning as I panicked about what my future may not hold and looked into the mirror and saw a face swollen with fear to the point of  masking my natural ethnicity with that of my Asian compadres due to torrential sobbing, it broke my ground.

I will always have meltdowns because it is MY nature. I will always experience my highs like a tsunami and lows crashing from the Empire State building into a sewer hole. I will always have a crabby, bratty streak to balance my empathic ears. I will always have an element of impulsiveness to challenge my yearning for stability.

Because this is me. And I can curb my cravings and endeavor to match the solidity of a bonsai. But I will accept my volatile nature. And learn to appreciate it.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Death of a student.

Dear school,

For the past 1.5 years you have made my life miserable and crushed my dreams. You have ripped me open, stepped on and tossed out my guts straight into the sewers for the rodents to feast. You have kicked me in the stomach when there has been nothing left. You have yelled at me for first being TOO emotional and then being un-emotional. My heart has quite literally been squeezed to death, left shriveled and useless.

You have left me with unpaid hospital bills, more mental health issues than my clients, and the shell of my body with no mind, sense of self nor esteem within. You have crushed me over and over again. I can only take so much from you and I seem to have found my limit.

WHYWHYWHY

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

"New York I love you, but you're bringing me down"

View From the Top- Sunnyside 7, March 2011
My mom says I was a pretty healthy kid, getting sick maybe once or twice a year with nothing more serious than strep throat. And pretty typical mental health for any hormonal, female adolescent.

But ever since moving to New York in summer 2009 I have come down with just about everything. Bronchitis, a 3 month flu, food poisoning, stomach problems, a torn ligament. And I've developed fears I once thought were irrational: clausterphobia, heights, heavy things falling on my head, being mugged, morbid thoughts about whether dying on an underground or above-ground subway would be the worst way to go (still haven't decided on that one)...

And anxiety. Anxiety that is so disabling, it causes me to have "pseudo-seizures" AKA attacks that manifest as seizure symptoms. And as of Monday, anxiety that also leaves me completely unable to breathe forcing me to rush to the doctor.

I was never really a particular anxious person. Sure, I'd get pre-test jitters. But these "anxiety attacks" come usually when I'm completely calm and relaxed. A few of my more holistic professors that I've mentioned it to said its probably because "when relaxed, your body/mind finally has time to release all the built up anxiety that is usually too distracted, so it manifests itself more intensely by bubbling up".

I've tried breathing exercises, meditation, my recent foray into active physical exercise. But they all only help so much, apparently. I don't know what to do anymore. Is this all what growing up entails- developing awareness leading to health issues? It's gotten to a point where on some level, I'm starting to believe that maybe some higher power is trying to kick me out of the city; New York doesn't want me around.

I wanted to stick around the city at least another year to experience it as a non-student. But I don't know. Maybe my body is trying to tell me something that I can't quite grasp- or not ready to at least.

"Above ground train- 5 stories up"
How do you deal with anxiety?

Monday, March 28, 2011

Need a good laugh and a good ab workout?



7 minutes of your life that you will not regret!

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Exercising at the gym does not an athlete make I

Empire State of Mind, Sunnyside 3/11
I just want to admit that despite efforts at becoming a healthier functioning person my "jog" on real terrain and freezing cold fresh polluted air burning inside my lungs this afternoon completely reality-slap-checked that notion right out of my mind.

Here's hoping my knee and flu-susceptibility are on my side in the morning.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Internal flooding

Yosemite Sam meets Elephant, Subway art 3/11
What do you think of when looking at this picture?


I originally snapped this flick on the train the other day because I thought it was some kind of cute little creature. I don't remember what mood I was in at the time. Right now, I see a nervous, anxious little critter. Red with nerves, red with embarrassment, and maybe even a little red with anger. Uh, projection much?


It's only been four days since I began my career-quest but I can barely concentrate on anything else. Or rather if my mind does manage to drift, it focuses on feeling stressed about writing another paper and a client intake by Monday.

But when I sit to try to work on these I decide to compulsively check job listings and my nerves grow to such a point that I close out the internet and try reading my references until I realize I've read the same line 10 times and I don't know what I just read and re-open my internet to browse random information like that bing commercial until I decide to get up to get the blood flowing and peek in my kitchen to see what I can eat to keep myself distracted long enough from my own thoughts only to realize nothing has magically appeared in my fridge since I last checked about 5 minutes before so I sit back down to re-read the same scholarly articles and so on. Back and forth, back and forth in pendular motions.

Bladdyblahblah. Maybe! If I talk/write/think about this enough that it will allow the thoughts to avalanche right on out. Flooding! I will flood these negative nuisances right out of my cerebral capacity!



What do you think about when you seen this little creature?

Friday, March 25, 2011

Quality worlds

I thought I had posted this yesterday but apparently not...

Anyway. As I was studying, I came across Glasser's "Choice Theory" modality. It's one of those theories that are so ridiculously obvious, you wonder why you weren't the one to put it into words first.

One of the basic concepts in Choice Theory is "Quality World" which is:
"Every one has a quality world that includes images that make up the life we'd like to have, including people, things, experiences, values... people are motivated by what is in their quality worlds, so they are more likely to find satisfaction in life if they are aware of what is in their quality worlds and if those things are attainable and meet their basic needs"
Duh!

It did get me thinking though. What is my "quality world"?
Family, best friends, Oliver, the beach, mountains, greenery, honesty, love, emotions...


What's your "quality world"?

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

"It is not what you look at that matters, it is what you see" -HDT

There it was: a big, red "REJECTED" stamped across a plain white sheet of paper with my bolded name and contact information in the header followed by a plea for employment. As I looked closer I realized I was not only rejected- I was downright ridiculed with a red finger pointing out at me. The more I kept staring at the sheet of sadness I realized the paper was suddenly talking. That's right, a talking sheet of paper with black-framed glasses and beady eyes not only rebuffing me but calling me out. Telling me, "who do I think I am trying to apply for professional positions with this excuse of selling yourself !"

My eyes jumped awake as much eyes can possibly actually jump but the room was dark. Reaching for my phone, I realized it was only 3:30 in the morning. I was supposed to sleep until 6:00 and then start working on sending out my resume. That was my plan. That's why I had worked on editing my cover letter the night before.

But at that point I was so paralyzed with fears of inadequacy I immediately propped open my laptop and started editing the letter. Correcting the same lines over and over again. Trying to make myself sound like a viable candidate for otherwise menial positions. At 6:30, I closed my laptop and tried to find some peace with the back of my eyes but I still couldn't. I had developed a cold, nervous sweat despite the open windows blowing in 26 degree snowflakes. Next thing I knew it was 9 am and I could barely move from my bed from panic.

I sent out the first round of applications this morning. And I already received one rejection back. And you know what? It feels as terrible as I had imagined it would despite the respondent wording it nicely. Before I moved to the city, I had applied at literally over 100 random positions. But the rejection didn't phase me- I believed they were the one's losing out.  Now, I feel stupefied. There is too much responsibility riding on these applications.

Now, I'm really a grown-up looking for a grown-up job with my grown-up degrees. The anxiety is overwhelming. I already had one pseudo-seizure/anxiety attack today before coming to class. All my self-soothing methods have failed me, all my classroom learned techniques a flop.

And now? I wait. Just like the thousands of others unemployed Americans.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

sex is an expensive habit but it still makes me happy


Alpalcas, Camp Hill, Summer 2009
I went to visit my friends the alpacas today who live near the damn. Driving home from my appointment, I missed the exit I had proposed to take. Instead of going toward Happy Valley with overeager kids doing upside-down keg stands, I ended up on a cruise through the back roads that go up-and-down-and-turn-too-sharp-and-the-bottom of the mountain makes love to Sharky’s fender into a bender.

It started off with the 90s throwback power lunch hour on the local R&B station. In between the yeah babies and doing it rights I realized, I got the power and I like it like that. A semi-slight-circular detour smoothly turned into seductively teasing trails between skinny mountain thighs squeezing the nerves tingling out of the sensationally excited epidermis- not even shy about showing.

Permagrin positively plastered, provocatively prone peculiarities pinned possibilities precociously playing preciously proactive ponderings!

Suddenly, funkadelic cardiac beats pulsed vibrational rhythms right into a scattered brain. Thoughts were arrested as they boogied out into a ridiculous laugh. Silence at last! As if inhaling enough air in order to exhale the bubbles down to the bottom of the pool, a wave of refreshing water soothingly engulfed the space between wiggling toes and a glorious crown. Lungs lavishly lounged in the relief. Mmm, delicioso!

Action verbing thoughts turned sublime moments into mine. Mental masturbation mastered, I pulled into the driveway sincerely serene.

I realized again nothing ever goes as planned. And I smiled.


-Camp Hill, PA, June 2009

Monday, March 21, 2011

No drizzle ma nizzle

TC corner, March 2011
NYC has a pathetic excuse for rain. In all honesty, if I was a cloud responsible for this territory I would feel lame about my raining abilities.

Because it really isn't rain, non-technically speaking. It is an annoying drizzle that lasts all day without pause. It's not the kind of rain that makes you want to go out and frolic in your bathing suit on a hot summer day but the kind that leaves your clothes muddy once the bus plows by with it's 4' sewer wave  in it's wake. It feels as if the residue from someone else's sneeze is loitering your radial being. It doesn't rain hard enough to actually open up the umbrella (which even if you did you'd still end up wet thanks to the wind's temperamental wheezing) but enough that your coat will develop a light layer of wetness and your skin becomes moist. The subways are a slippery, condensated mess. The sky stays a foggy shade of clouded gray, though one can't actually make out any clouds.

Miami on the other hand has my kind of rain. The term torrential downpour is more accurate. You can smell the rain before it even hits. The sun will be shining brightly in the front yard and all of a sudden the backyard becomes a swampy marsh within minutes. And then it's over. The clouds swim over and garden the next block. The rainbow shines brightly overhead.

Soggy masses- 2 train, March 2011

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Do less

My last-for-now spring break is just about officially over. And what have I done?

  • Whine a lot
  • Re-injure my bad knee
  • Not go to museums or do anything where significant walking was related due to said injury
  • Sleep. A LOT.
  • Barely finish my midterm paper due tomorrow at 1 because of I'm so anxious about needing to get an A I've been paralyzed, much less the other papers needed
  • Visit the doctor to be told I need to restart physical therapy because said knee is most likely dislocated and I need the physical therapist referral to see an ortho to determine if surgery is necessary and be reprimanded for still not having my blood-work done since I'm also, most likely anemic.
  • Finished this amazing book (and now looking for recommendations!)
  • Booked a vacation to DISNEYWORLD (!!!) with credit card rewards points fo'free (seeing as how I didn't have to spend money because I accumulated them since 2005)
You'd think the lack of mobility would propel me to be some kind of productive. Far from it. Sometimes a body-mind just has to rejuvenate so I'm giving myself until this evening to whine & sulk a bit more about my lack of doing anything exciting and tomorrow I'll be back on the grind.

Here's to letting yourself just be.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Astrologically speaking

Astrology is one of this believe-it or not mysteries that always interested me. Today my best friend mentioned her "ascendent and moon signs" and I was off on a Google search. The scary thing is, the descriptions are pretty spot-on to a ridiculous extent. 


My ascending sign is Cancer apparently meaning,
You are dreamy, with a psychological nature that is oriented towards nostalgia for things past, towards your mother and your family. Your instinct and your need to protect yourself from the outside world are highly developed. Your inner life is rich, with a vivid and even unlimited imagination, a propensity to avoid all risks and to pursue security. You show your true face only to persons you can trust and you need the well being brought about by the nostalgia for the past.
With this Ascendant, you come across as emotional, sentimental, restful, sensitive, loyal, enduring, protective, vulnerable, generous, romantic, tender, poetic, paternal or maternal, dreamy, indolent, greedy and dedicated. You may also be fearful, unrealistic, evasive, passive, touchy, anxious, dependent, stubborn, lunatic, backward-looking, lazy, burdensome, impenetrable and a homebody
That first sentence alone is probably the best description I could even provide about myself. 


My moon sign is Capricorn: 
This can be a difficult Moon sign, as stern Capricorn energy is not so comfortable in emotional settings. You’re a bit of a curmudgeon, old-fashioned in your values and tastes. You’re attracted to people and possessions that stand the test of time, and you may favor antiques or traditional furnishings. Slow to open up, you can be an emotional monk, content with your own company. You even thrive on melancholy spells that test your soul’s mettle. However, too much isolation can drive you into depression. Because you’re hard to read, people will mistake you for cold or standoffish. You just take your time to make a decision, weighing the long-term impact of everything. You respond to practical, thoughtful people who are emotionally mature. Romantic partners must fit neatly into your lifelong plans. You’re attracted to older lovers or established people who can help advance your goals. You might even start a business with your mate. With family, you maintain a dutiful spirit, especially with your parents. Your relationship with your father is a lifelong work in progress.
Weird weird weeeeeird!

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Sunnyside and the livin' ain't easy

Sitting in a waiting room overflowing with older Latinos takes me back to Miami. For two and a half hours, I was spouted back to my hometown on a brief mental holiday wondering why I have such a love-hate relationship with my Latin-fused roots.

This doctor's waiting room wasn't like the typical American office. As a matter of fact, it was a replica of the many offices I've waited in back home. The usual sense of quiet nerves was replaced with high-wattage conversations between relative strangers who became fast friends drinking cortaditos y pastelitos juntos in between meals.

That's what Latinos do: they talk a lot very loudly with anyone around them. The small cramped waiting room was the adulterated version of a high school cafeteria full of exuberant cries of laughter and frustration-- not to mention avid discussions of Lady Gaga and the latest Cristina drama. Silence is an unknown concept as is the preference to be alone.

My mother is like this. She will talk to anyone anywhere anytime. A trait that has mostly annoyed me out of sheer embarrassment. Now it just makes me laugh on a good day. But it's not just my mom- it's almost every Latino I've ever met or heard about. I'm the exact opposite. Reserved, quiet to downplay my mother's loudness, and selective with who I decide to share secrets with. An unmistakeable reflection of my own Americanness despite my bicultural identification. In my textbooks we (Latinos) are described as being passionate. An adjective I enthusiastically subscribe to when defining myself.

But this loudness, the constant chatter that creates the humming sound of a shopping mall food court gets to me. It vibrates my synapses and rattles my brain because sometimes I just need some quiet time in my head. Something NYC gives me too much of apparently. These extremes- white noise and constant rumblings make me crankily crabby. On vacations, it's nice to delve right into the loudness of tropical Miami or the eerie silence of too-many-thinkers in overpopulated Manhattan. But living in either one of these polarities daily makes my neurons cha-cha right out of my ear drums into a panicked suicide jump towards the ground.

Which is why I live in Sunnyside (Queens). A brief seven minute train ride gets me out of the roarings from my multicultural neighbors into the silence of the masses. Just like I do with my different names or rather alter-egos, I alternate between my conflicted surroundings.
Sunnyside, Queens January 2011

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Change clothes

Change. Such an innocent motive propelled my mind into long-forgotten memories.

In an effort to prolong my procrastination from homework, I decided to take down my change jar and count. Imagining I had maybe an hour's worth of meaninglessness to occupy me from the voices telling me to do real work. Plus, for some reason counting change has always fascinated me. As a kid I used to offer my services to my family and spend hours taping dirty coin wrappers formed by a cheap Bic to emerge with blackened digits.

10 minutes later and I was done. In those short moments, existentialism got the best of me.

Up until relatively recently I've been an avid supporter of change- changing myself, my surroundings. Anything really. I've gone through every hair color (including pink, purple, and teal), gotten up and moved cities when bored, and numerous different aspects of myself and environment when possible. I thrived at the opportunity to switch life up. I would call them adventures.

Now? Not so much. I still like change. But something about it scares me now with major responsibilities in tow. No longer do I have the support of anyone to pick up the pieces if I get in too deep. No longer can I say things like, "I want to do xxx before I'm 18/21 so it doesn't stay on my record". No longer can I  up and go without over analyzing my moves not to mention caring about my impact on others.

Yes, I'm growing up and I understand that has something do to with my semi-craving for stability. But what happened?

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Sweet snoozing sympathy

I used to be able to wake up at the crack of dawn and get straight to studying, fully ready for the day before 6 am. Now, not so much. Months have gone by wondering what has changed. my internal clock? Hormone? Age?

I found the answer snoozing parallel to me. Jonathan is not-so-much a morning person. He likes to sleep in the mornings for the most part, which in all honesty isn't much at all. But when he is laying there peacefully dozing I can't resist crawling over and cuddling into the nook of his arm. Sometimes he stirs when he feels me. Other times I maneuver around the dead weight of his arm. But always, I love these brief moments-hours of serene affection.

Here's to savoring the subtle sweet moments instead of rushing to start a day.

Gaslight, February 2011

Monday, March 14, 2011

Seriously, corporate America?

Way to destroy my feelings of happiness. Companies will do anything these days to jerk money out of you. I am being penalized for always promoting the company saying how great they are. And what do I get in return?

"OH YOU NEED A DOCTOR'S NOTE BEFORE WE CAN GIVE YOU YOU'RE OWN MONEY BACK EVEN THOUGH YOU DIDN'T EVEN UTILIZE THE OPPORTUNITY AND TRIED TO RECEIVE A REFUND BEFOREHAND WHEN OUR OFFICE WAS CLOSED WHICH MEANT WE COULD JUST HOLD YOUR MONEY FROM YOU ON PURPOSE  AND MAKE YOU WAIT BECAUSE WE KNOW MOST AMERICANS ARE LAZY AND THEREFORE WILL NOT JUMP THROUGH OUR COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY HOOPS IN ORDER TO GET THEIR MONEY BACK SO WE JUST END UP KEEPING IT ANYWAY"


Oh, and then there is the ridiculous doctor's office who want to make me jump through their own hoops and can't even see me until Thursday where I'll have to wait most likely at least 4 hours because that tends to be their average wait time for a 5 second consult just so I can get said ridiculously, stupidly, unnecessary note. Which means I won't be able to visit my family this week like I wanted & mentally needed to.

I'm sure somewhere in this there is some sort of lesson as to overcoming my impulsiveness. BUT REALLY? COME ON! I know this is a rant and not an effort to improve writing. But if this was my old school live journal circa 2001-2003 I would use one of those fuming un-smiley faces to describe my mood.

Well, you know what you very silly gym? I'm marching to the doctor on Thursday, taking a good book to read, and getting that note so I can shove it in your fax face! Harrumph.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Grow where you are planted

Yesterday morning I had an anxiety attack. I had woken up early to do homework but come 10 am I was a mess.

It dawned on me: why had I signed up for a boxing class? Why had I agreed on something in the late afternoon/early evening when my mind is manic and I'm clearest in the early morning? What was I doing signing up for a group class when I strongly dislike anything group related, much less something I'm not great at and is equally challenging?

Hours went by trying to force some kind of rationalization. "Michelle, this will be good for you. You'll socialize and get fit. You have to overcome your anxiety." But do I really? No! I tried to cancel my registration. And I fell into a gym trap, You know, when they try to offer you anything and everything to get you to stay. The manager went as far as asking me when was the last time I had been to the doctor.

Talk about rude salespeople.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

drunken soliloquy

I ran to the bus today,
I think my knee re-popped out,
Painful, but drunk enough to forget
Tomorrow, i shall feel the pain.

(six words)

Friday, March 11, 2011

Boxing:3, iPad:0

Exercise makes the heart grow...exasperated? The body...exhausted? Yes, I think so. After my "cardio" routine yesterday morning I decided to ask one of the trainers for some tips. This simple question led to an hour long private boxing lesson.

Last night I was pooped but nothing in comparison to what I felt this morning. All pain aside, it was really a fun experience. The trainer, Charlie, had me cracking up the entire time which led to a pretty intense ab workout in itself. Though I spent most of today unable to laugh/cough/sneeze/move anything involving mobility from my shoulders through my waist, it was worth it.

Enough so that I decided to enroll in his 8-week training program. Why?

  1. I'm obviously in pretty pathetic shape
  2. I'm a female... living in a major metropolis (self-defense)
  3. Apparently, punching things is a good anger-management program in itself (AKA no more unnecessary outbursts at Jon)

On the other hand, I've been trying to come up with rational excuses to slap down money for an iPad. I've REALLY wanted one since last year.  But every reason I come up with I can negate, which is making it less and less likely. See, I just got a new iPhone last month because my old one broke (which I LOVE- as much as one can love an inanimate, non-being object). It was a necessity- or as much of a necessity buying a smart phone can be. But the iPad?

  1. I can take it on the Europe trip instead of lugging around my laptop (but that's a 1-time stint)
  2. I can take it to class instead of writing hand-notes I don't understand later or taking my laptop ( but I'll only be in school for 2 more months hopefully)
  3. I can share it with Jon? (But Jon pretends to hate Macs and would probably "need" it on days I "need" it)
  4. I can use that as a primary computer and my laptop as a storage device (But I just inherited Jon's old external hard drive so I really don't need that either)
  5. I really WANT it (but I just splurged on this European vacation for Jon & I. And I obviously don't NEED it)
See, I'm kind of an impulsive spender and a great saver. I've been working since 16 out of both necessity and want (for my own independence). My spending habits reflect my overall dichotomous personality. But as I've matured I try to make my purchases more justifiable (see lists above). 

Decisions decisions. 

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Boxing for the soul

Exercised this morning, slept all day
Gloomy rainy weather motivated laying around
That's all for now, the end.

(six word memoirs)

[edit: so tired, wrote this from my phone bc it was within reach]

Wednesday, March 09, 2011

Schools out for...spring!


Tonight marks my unofficial-official beginning of Spring Break. My last Spring Break for a while. As of this semester, I'm taking a sabbatical from education. I had originally planned on trudging on through a PhD program- I wanted to have it completed by my 30th birthday. But then this happened, causing me to  pause and reevaluate my life. Which is good, because it's something that needs serious consideration. I need to think about my next moves, something that I'm not too good at. I want to enjoy the doctoral experience. I want to make sure I find a program and a niche that fits me.

Everything happens for a reason.

Anyway. It's going to be bittersweet. Full of two papers, one outline, deep-Spring cleaning, working on my unfinished inspiration board & resolution chart, adventures to museums, mass resume emailing, a quick trip to PA, and hopefully reading Infinite Jest by this guy! (and a partridge in a pear tree?)

Phew!