Saturday, June 18, 2011

Traditional Living? Me? Huh...

"Throw my dollars up high/And they land on the stage you dance on/We got company coming over/Would it kill you to put some pants on?" -Dreams Money Can Buy

I forget that I get my biggest, greatest ideas from things tenuously related, or mostly unrelated to what I'm doing at the moment.

I've been feeling really down and out about not going to school; all my life I've been told that school would be what differentiates me from all the other folks in the world. It would pretty much promise me a job. It would make or break my life. So I understand why the realization that I'm being held back another semester (or two) would upset me to the point of assaulting a piece of paper with angry words and disappointed tears.

So while laying around feeling sorry for myself and my wrecked life plan I came up with another one, and another one and another one. I thought of being a stripper; I figure that's recession proof right? And I could be one of those girls who actually is just stripping to pay for school. While I was thinking these thoughts I was listening to Drake and that line above came up.

In a perfect kismet moment I decided definitively what I want to do with my life (that does not involve taking my clothes off for money). I want to home-school other people's children. I then want to build up a rapport with the same parents over time so that I can open a small private school that lets me teach the kids what they need to learn with what they have to learn. I'd call it the Dorothy Parker Academy.

I'd been thinking all this time that to be important, to be successful, I'd have to be traditional. I'd have to go to school and graduate with the best grades, I'd have to go to a great college that costs the equivalent of a house in the Hamptons to attend. I forget sometimes that the most successful people, the happiest people, rarely if ever go the traditional route to get where they are.

I've never been a traditional girl; it shocks me that it took me until now to realize that living traditionally wouldn't work for me. Living traditionally doesn't work for a lot of people. I forgot that to live my life, and enjoy it, I'd have to do it my way; not many people will understand it, or appreciate it, but they have to respect the moxie, the chutzpah, the balls it takes to own it.


Wednesday, June 15, 2011


All I usually need is ten minutes to compose myself at any given time. Say something goes wrong, terribly, or something goes right, extraordinarily. Ten minutes and I'll have a complete reign over my emotions enough to be coherant and think properly.

I'm probably not going to college, and there's not much I can do about it at this point. I feel like I've let myself down and that I'm becoming that person I never wanted or thought I would become; the person who defers school for a year, or two or ten until they realize how much of their dreams they never accomplished and end up bitter at life.

Ten minutes was all it took to convince myself to be stronger. I'm not big on supporters; it's really just me, my parents and the few friends I've collected along the way. So I find more often than not I have to be the support that I'd want for myself. Which is the advice of today's blog.

A lot of times I feel that letting anyone know anything other than "I'm fine" is a weakness; even though it's typically far from the truth, I'm the quintessential "strong/responsible/reliable" one and in my mind, that means nothing should bother me although usually, everything does. I find that, since I don't feel like I have much support (or maybe I need too much?) I usually have to pick myself up and push on.

The whole school thing really got me down; it seems like every time I take a step forward I'm forced to take three back. I'm not fully convinced that school isn't for me, but I am convinced that I can't do it now. I worry that I'll get caught up in making money and forget all about it, but somehow I know that's not going to happen; I'm too set on being an English teacher to ever forget, but a year or so off to make money doesn't sound so bad.

Moral of the story - be your own supporter, and be your best supporter. Nobody knows how to motivate you but you, and nobody can do it better.

Spreading love
Dropping knowledge

Tuesday, June 14, 2011


Who am I to think I'm someone special?

According to Texas and it's education system, no damn body. I've been denied another fall semester; this time I apparently didn't reach the standards set up to receive financial aid which include a certain number of credit hours and a certain GPA that coincides with those credit hours. If I had known that, say a month ago when I'd asked, I wouldn't be so shocked. If they had bothered to tell me that at any time that I'd asked, because I was there literally everyday for about a month making sure everything was falling into place, then I wouldn't be this upset. However the fact they just sent me an e-mail saying "By the way, what you did wasn't enough...and we're not going to help. Thanks, bye!" just doesn't sit well with me. All I'm trying to do is get an education so that one day I can educate others; I'm not asking them to give me anything, I'm asking them for the opportunity to be great. And they apparently don't give three damns.

It's got me wondering if it's really what I'm going to do with my life. I want to teach high school English; my most influential and ultimately helpful educators were my high school English teachers. They made me try harder, do better in a time where I was just coasting on being smarter than a lot of people instead of actually working and proving it. I want to be that person in a kid's life that doesn't let them get away with just being "smarter;" I want to be that person that changes a kid's life for the better. What's so wrong with that?

I fear that the more time I take off from school, the more time I'll get complacent with a job or a career doing something completely different than what I set out for and I don't want that for myself. I know life doesn't care about any plans I have set out or any goals that I want to attain but the more it goes on, the more I think I'm never going to make it, or worse I'll make it too late. Nothing sucks more than being in your fifties and paying off student loans, except maybe being in your fifties realizing you never did anything that you wanted to do.

Is there any point in planning when, even though I was two steps ahead, I'm now right back where I started? Is there any point in thinking that I'm meant for greater things when it seems the universe just keeps pushing back? How much harder are you supposed to push back, or do you even push at all? In any case, it's time to find a job and stop thinking that I'm greater than instead of equal to.

Venting <3

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Virginity and Pride Can Go Hand-in-Hand

People who know me, and some who've known me, perceive me to be some level of freak or sexual deviant, to which I quickly point out that as a virgin I can be neither. What I tell them instead is that I'm body conscious (also what I say to those who call me a hypochondriac) and enjoy the sensual things in life which is true, and can really be applied to anything, not just sex. I sometimes forget though that the line between the two is so easily blurred by today's standards.

I like to study things that interest me and that I don't know about; sex is no exception. The fact that I seemingly know so much about it isn't because of practicing, but rather book learning; there's just somethings a book can't teach you. Plus, books and movies lie; it's never that smooth or that cool or that easy and 75% of women don't orgasm during intercourse, and 12% have never orgasmed at all. See that? Book learning, statistics, not actual practice.

What I noticed is if you put my amalgamation of facts together with the fact that I know (and love) my body and know what makes me happy/feel good/etc, apparently you've got the perfect combination for the designated freaky friend. I don't mind that so much; I mind the implication that I'm lying about my virginity a lot more than I mind being "freaky" by some random person's standards.

It happens often that when I'm inducted into a new group of friends and the sex conversation comes up I get the incredulous looks; are twenty-year-old virgins taboo now? It makes me feel ostracized and like I'm missing something, until I remember that most of the people having vast amounts of sex with vasts amounts of people are either lying or searching for something in all the wrong places. A lot of women who've had sex early say they feel proud of me for sticking to my guns for so long and that they wish they would've waited. A lot of men tell me to hold onto it; when I find the right guy, he'll know exactly what to do with the whole package, not just the body.

I once read that women take sex so emotionally and personally because women have to invite a man into themselves, whereas men can just go wherever they like to. Because women have to invite a man in, we're basically opening ourselves up to them in ways we don't for other people and by doing that all of what is in us is open to that man. That's one of the reasons I suppose I'm waiting; I don't want to invite the wrong one in. I want to be in love with a person and feel safe with them before making that step. I'm shy cautious.

I forget sometimes that virginity is something to be proud of; the way tv and other media splash sex everywhere as if everyone is doing it sometimes can cloud my reasons for why I've remained as I am for as long. I've heard many a boy say they couldn't "break in" a virgin, I've not once heard a man say he wasn't willing to be patient and work with one. Though I've seen many a rolled eye from girls with checkered sexual histories, I've never once heard an honest woman say that she wished she wouldn't have waited. I remember that love is worth more than sex by any measurements and nobody should ever be ashamed to wait on love.

Why to do you think that virginity is sometimes sneered at? And what's the conundrum between sensuality and sexuality? Is it too hard to disconnect the two as separate things (that work really well together)? Lastly, do you wish you would've waited?

Spreading love
Dropping knowledge
Showing pride <3

Friday, June 3, 2011

(7) Somewhere Song

I used to walk out of my house a lot. Just clean get up and walk out and keep walking until I got somewhere. Wherever I lived, there was always a place not too far from home but far enough for me to feel like I could get away and not be missed. There's a perch on the top of the hill near my house from which I can see for a few miles. It's not much; just lights and stars uninhibited by tall buildings or streetlights. I didn't go out for the thrill and I didn't walk out to be with anyone; I walked out to clear my mind.

One night it was raining and mother and I were having a discussion about the myriad of things I typically do wrong. I have a bit of a chip on my shoulder apparently but she's a yeller, and I don't listen well to yelling, so it went on for awhile. So when it was over, in the pouring rain and without shoes I trekked up the hill. My iPod, which I had in my sweat pant's pocket was playing one song over and over.

Something about Diddy Dirty Money's "Ass on the Floor" makes the air seem easier to breathe. I think it's the string section in the beginning, after the beat stops for a second that reminds my lungs of the feel of air right after a snow. As I stood at the vacant lot in the rain the chorus came up and I couldn't help but dance. So in the middle of the night in a vacant lot not too far from home, I danced in the rain and felt freer than I've ever felt.

It was something otherworldly the way the bass boomed in my ears and the chill of the rain didn't affect my skin. I could see my breath in the air, and I could feel myself getting soaked but in that moment, it just didn't matter. None of it mattered anymore; not the stress, not the fear, not the weight of the world. I didn't owe anyone anything, I didn't have to be anyone, I could just feel and I could just do and it felt amazing.

It was one of those moments that I said a silent thank you to God for; there are so many times in life where I feel I'm expected to be someone and do something when all I want is to just be what I am right in that moment, not what's expected. To this day, nothing has come close to dancing in the rain under God's approving night sky.  So now, whenever I hear the song, it reminds me of dancing in the rain. It reminds me of liberation. Mostly though, it reminds me of somewhere I always want to be in spirit. It reminds me of my need to be free.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

(6) A Place Where I Can Think

On the first part of the journey, I was looking at all the life...The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz, and a sky with no clouds...

For a lot of my high school life I walked to school. It couldn't have been more than a mile, but in the Texas heat, with every step I was convinced I'd collapse in the heat, especially in the spring. At first, freshman year, I'd carry a bright blue umbrella and, rain or shine, I would have it above my head to make sure I didn't catch my death of heat stroke. I think I learned that from one of my grandmothers.

In any case, over time I got weary of walking but, since I couldn't skip school I had to learn how to deal. I find I deal with things better when I have music to relate to how I feel. So I delved deep into Daddy's old music files and found this group named America. At first I thought they weren't for me, and then I heard "Horse with No Name," and fell in love.

The lyrics make some sense, but not a lot. Basically, a man is taking this trek through a desert and he finds a horse that helps him along. The sun's hot. He's tired. He's burned. But eventually it rains and he lets the horse go it's way as he goes his own. At least that's what I took from it.

I been through the desert on a horse with no name, it felt good to be out of the rain...

Metaphorically speaking though, the guy had been in this state of gloom for awhile and he relished the heat and the dryness, even though it was a harsh change from where he'd come from. It reminded him of who he was, what he was about, and what he was trying to accomplish. Recently, I've begun to understand that aspect of the song as I feel like I'm stuck in my life right now and the alternative is this frightful idea of failure.

It's different, failure. Maybe because I spend most of my time trying to either excel, or stay somewhere in the middle of normalcy instead of reaching greatness. Greatness which everyone save for myself seems to think I'm capable of. I don't want to disappoint people and I don't want to fail at life. But I'm realizing that success is measured by my own ruler, and I just have to define what success is and not try to live up to everyone else's standards. You'd think I'd know that. But I always forget.

I just have to take that first, scary step. The rest after that won't seem so scary and won't take as long to take. Just like those long, agonizing walks to school in the heat, the first step under the scorching sun was always the hardest, but the more I took, the less the heat mattered. Until I got home and laid on the tile floor face down for a few minutes and it all hit me. But for the sake of the argument...

Spreading love
Dropping knowledge
Lifting a foot at a time <3

I Forget About Decisions

I don't like making decisions. Mostly because I dislike being wrong and not making a decision is the easiest way to not be wrong that often. I also fear outcomes; what if this happens, and what if that happens always make me stay in that aggravating shade of "I don't know" grey or "I'm undecided" beige.

I've decided to be a high school English teacher; it's the most likely job to make me feel accomplished and that I'm doing something worth while that can help the future. Plus, I remember all my high school English teachers. What my decision says to me is that it's time to gear all the way up; I've got 6/60 credits needed for my associates of English, and I'm looking into teaching accreditation programs around town.

I've also decided to not stress so much about people and their opinions. I recently noticed that I'm a bit stand-offish with people and I can't help but think it's for a reason; not saying that people don't matter right now, but they shouldn't matter more to me than I do. I've been so focused and worried about how other people define my success and my life, never taking the time to define those things for myself first and now that I have, I truly realize how little it matters what others think of me, but more so what I think of me.

I think I need some work. Literally and figuratively. I think if I had a job to do I wouldn't be super high-strung all the time; I could focus my mind on the tasks at hand (and the perks of a paycheck) during the day and come home feeling satisfied that I've done something with my day. I also need work with my attitude which, honestly, I didn't know I had. More thinking before speaking should help that, right?

I sometimes forget that life is going to be full of decisions, and failing to make them now isn't doing me any favors; in fact, it can be a hindrance to me later by my lack of experience with making any thus far. I didn't want the blame of failure to fall on me if I made the wrong decision. I didn't want to face any consequences from a bad decision. In all this time I just now got the light bulb that if I don't make a decision, I can't possibly make a good decision and therefore can't expect good things.

Time to get this object in motion, huh?

Spreading love
Dropping knowledge
Growing up <3

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

(5) Like A Star...

Just like a star across my skies. Just like an angel off the page. You have appeared to my life. It feels like I'll never be the same...

I don't know when exactly I started loving George. I just know that since then, no matter how much I've wanted to at particular moments, I never stop. It's not like I thought it would be; nothing that I read in the books. I always thought loving a guy would be like the classic rom-com musicals that makes women go around singing "The Hills Are Alive (With the Sound of Music)" or at the very least sing and dance in the rain. It's not like that at all, and suprisingly I'm really glad it isn't.

We're miles apart (about a thousand or so) but he still makes an effort to cheer me up when I'm down, or vent to me when he's frustrated. That's what good friends are for I've been told, and if that's the case, he's a damn good friend. He feels passionately about me in ways that I feel I'm not; he's passionate about my writing, about my love for hip-hop (or lack thereof in his opinion) and a myriad of other things I always neglect to be thankful for about myself. In fact, the other day he told me that he gets frustrated because I always doubt myself but don't doubt others and, until I learn to say things and mean them to and for myself, I'm not "allowed" to compliment or uplift anyone. He's cute, isn't he?

Still I wonder why it is. I don't argue like this with anyone but you. We do it all the time...

Don't get me wrong, when we fight we fight. It's like we pick out the smallest of things (or he does anyway cause I never argue :) ) and just hash it out to it's lowest common denominator. He says I said something, I say he said something, boom, we're having a very terse 'discussion' about how things are and how we want them to be. However a few days later, we're apologizing without saying the words and acting as if the whole thing didn't happen (or teasing about it, in my case). I'm reminded of a saying about never saying sorry...

I always thought that being in love with a person was the most important thing. In love is what gets people shot. It's what makes people throw up their hands and sing "You Make Me Feel (Like A Natural Woman) at inpromptu times. It's a crazy, mixed up, jumble of messy emotions. But love? Love is something different. It's just knowing that there's a mutual care between the two of you, and that as long as it's there, nothing even matters. It's not so much a need to have that person in your life, but a very high want and that, in a nut shell, is what's between me and George.

That's why "Like a Star" by Corinne Bailey Rae is a song that reminds me of him. Sometimes I just think about him and roll my eyes, but other times...Other times I feel this peace in my spirit because I know he's there for me if I fail, he's there for me if I succeed, and he's going to be there as long as fate allows.

He's spiritual and genuine. He's funny and witty. He's quirky and he's always putting his foot in his mouth. And I think he's absolutely wonderful. He thinks I'm beautiful and smart. He thinks I'm stubborn and too emotional. He thinks I'm meant for greatness and purpose beyond anything I can possibly know. And he's damned determined to make sure I think those same things about myself and for that...what can a woman do but love the man?

Spreading love
Dropping knowledge
Accepting love > in love

I Forget To Seek Forgiveness

I'm sensitive. Seriously, I am. I put on the face that nothing bothers me when deep down, my heart's sinking. I make my words and their intentions harsher than I mean them when I feel that way to make up for the fact that I get hurt by words more often than by actions.

I'm self-absorbed. I'm manipulative. I'm slow to move. But damn it, I am a great person. I'm compassionate. I'm open. I'm creative. I know just the right thing to say at all the right times. But I get angry like the next person. I make mistakes and misspeak more often than I like to admit. I justify my actions when it suits my purpose.

I crave purpose; I want what I do for a living to mean something and to matter to someone. Yes, accountants matter to people, as do therapists and lawyers, but I question if I'd be happy doing those things. I wonder if, in the scheme of things, will my hands touch something great, will my influence push someone over their own edge of greatness. I don't know what makes me think I'm so special that I deserve to be paid to do something I love to do that means something; call me crazy, but I think that's the dream and I've always been a dreamer.

I write because that's all I know to do. When things get hard, when things get fun. When things hurt and when they heal. I'm a writer. I like to think that I write because somewhere out there there's someone like me thinking the same way I am, or going through something similar and I know it eases so much stress to know that what I feel isn't just a "me" thing, that someone else knows exactly what I feel like.

I heard somewhere to never ask permission but always ask forgiveness. So forgive me if it seems like I marginalize. Forgive me if I misspeak. Forgive my selfishness. I'm sorry if by being who I am I offend. They're mostly learned behaviors that I'm slowly unlearning; life has no accelerant, so I don't know what my naysayers really expect me to do. I can't go out and wiggle my nose to make jobs appear. I can't blink and cross my arms to give myself a degree. I can only do what I'm doing now, and that's trying to move forward and learn about the life I want to lead.

What I am going to do is get this degree. I am going to get a job. And I am going to stand on my own two feet. It's going to take time, so if there's none to be given I'll just have to snatch some where I can find it. It's going to hurt, and it's going to change me, but for the first time in my life I'm saying bring on the hurt. I'm ready.

Strictly cathartic
But still with love <3