Friday, November 25, 2011

raw

one of the hardest parts about these last few months is how strongly i've felt everything. it's pretty apparent that most of those feelings have been negative ones, but not all of them. even when i get those feelings of enjoyment when i'm reading something inspiring for school, or i feel proud at the progress i'm making at one thing or another. those feelings have all been amplified as well. it can be exhausting, though. feeling is great. there has been so many times in my life where i just resigned myself to not feeling anything at all, because it was easier than letting myself get into a slump of depression. so, at least now, i'm making myself stay afloat enough to feel everything - good or bad. but damn, a few highs and a handful of lows and it really takes the energy out of you.

the other day my mom made some comment about how i'm going to be too exhausted if i work full time, and i just had to laugh. working and going to school? sure, i'm sure it'll make me more tired in the daytimes, and yeah, i'll get less sleep. but those will not be what exhausts me. they will not be able to drag the energy out of me and make me feel like i might have never had it to begin with. no, only feeling can do that; only feeling the highest of highs and the lowest of all lows - over and over and over again, until it has drained every last breath in me.

at least it's not all bad. at least there are still those high highs to appreciate. it is thanksgiving, after all.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Lacking Expression

I haven't quite known what to post lately. It feels like it's been so long, yet it sometimes still feels like it was just yesterday.

Things I'm happy and excited about:

I've officially started my full time job. I'll be back in an environment that's busy and crammed, and while I know it'll be stressful at times, I know it will push me to work at full potential.

Auditions close for LCC tonight, and I'm so excited to meet the new 'G' and see what it brings. And with that comes the adventure of writing a new script come winter break.

This quarter is almost over and I couldn't be happier. My classes were a huge letdown when compared to my expectations. But at least they're over with, and I think my classes for the next two quarters are going to be amazing.

Winter break! I'll still be working full time, but I'm still exited for it. And this might just be the first Christmas that I can actually afford presents for everyone in a long time.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Gina's Monologue

This is the last monologue in the play that I wrote for LCC:

I always knew I was nothing. And it’s a strange thing, feeling like nothing. Because you can’t even feel bad necessarily, because…you’re less than bad. You’re just that: nothing. My first year here at UCLA I took a theater class for one of my GE’s. Our first assignment was a monologue. When I started reading, with the lights on me, bright enough so I couldn’t see anyone else in the room, I just started crying. I was breaking down there on the stage, but to everyone else in the room, they just thought I was a natural. Ms. S told me I was a great actress and I should really consider taking more classes with her. So, at least when I’m here and I’m on the stage, I can fill myself with something. Pretending to be something is better than actually being nothing, right? And please, don’t tell me I’m not, okay? I get it, I really do. You - boyfriends, mothers, friends – it’s your jobs to tell me I’m something special: I’m beautiful, I’m smart, I’m this, I’m that. And I appreciate it, really I do. But…don’t, okay? Don’t play those games with me, because I’ll never buy into them. I’m not worth it. When I was eight-years-old I was swimming with my little brother, Brian. He was such a sweetheart. Everyone loved him, and honestly, I couldn’t blame them. But you know how it is – when you’re eight the only thing that matters is getting attention, and a new baby brother is the last thing you want, especially a cute one with a contagious laugh. My Mom went inside to make us sandwiches: pb&j, Brian’s favorite. She made Brian wait on the steps of the pool when she left, but as soon as she walked inside, Brian started taking off his floaties, telling me how he was a big boy and he didn’t need them anymore. Something told me it wasn’t a good idea, but I let him do it anyway. I knew Mom would just blame me if he started crying. He jumped in the deep end. I watched his arms flail, his eyes wide and scared. I heard him gasping for breath as his head kept slipping below the water. And I didn’t move. Not once. Once he stopped moving, I got scared – really scared. I ran out of the pool and into the front yard. When I heard my Mom scream, I ran to the backyard and saw her, her clothes soaked with water, collapsed on the side of the pool with him lying limp in her arms. I told her I was playing in the sprinklers in the front yard. I told her that I made Brian get all the way out of the pool before I left, I made him promise. I told her that I was so sorry, Mom, I’m so sorry, I should have never left him alone. She told me it wasn’t my fault. She told me she loved me. She told me it’s going to be okay. I don’t know why I didn’t move. I don’t think I’ll ever know. And I don’t want to. Because it doesn’t matter why I did it. I’m a monster. I’m…worse. I’m….nothing. Sometimes I think I’m getting better. I think I’m working my way up, ya know? It’s like I’m climbing out of this hole that I’m trapped in, and I’m moving up and up and up, and I’m so…proud of myself. And I don’t ever really feel proud of myself, but in this moment, I do. Because maybe I’m not perfect yet, and maybe I can’t bring him back, but at least I’m going somewhere, at least I’m moving towards something – towards this light at the end of the tunnel everyone keeps telling me is out there. But then all it takes is someone to throw a tiny, little, grey pebble into my pit to knock me back down again. I can be having a perfectly normal day, and then BAM, something just happens and it all comes crumbling down around me. And anything can be a trigger – anything. And in one moment, I can go from feeling totally normal, to feeling like my world is caving in, and that it was all my fault. And I’m falling, right? Down, down, I keep falling, but then the floor isn’t where it was before – it’s further down. And all that work, all that climbing, it was all for nothing. Because now I’m worse than where I started. How many times can I keep getting lower before I just….stop? It’s…it’s dark down there. It’s, well, it’s fucking scary. Every time I hit that bottom again, I just sit and tear myself apart until there’s nothing left. I just want to get rid of myself, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left to hurt me anymore, to hurt anyone. Just do me a favor okay? Don’t try to fix me. I’m not some dumb, na├»ve girl. I just know better. I know myself. I’m never enough and I never will be. It should have been me.



Ivy's performance of this monologue is beautiful. It really is. It's better than I could have ever imagined it being performed. Every time we're doing a run through of the show and it comes to this monologue...I tear up in the least, and have even shed quite a few tears at the most. And that's with me trying with everything in me to hold it together. I never know if it's because Ivy does it so well, or if it's because the emotions that 'Gina' feels as she's speaking are so true to how I felt when I wrote this. How I still feel. It's a little of both, I'm sure.

Another blow up tonight. And at first I was angry, then sad, then angry and sad, then...like a sack of fucking bricks, there it was again. Worthless. The feeling that's the worst of all. In an instant I went from being angry that I wasn't getting what I deserved, to hating myself for forgetting that I don't deserve anything, for letting myself believe for one minute that I was worth more than nothing. And maybe I could try to convince myself otherwise, but my actions speak louder. I'm proving every day that I'm worthless, because I'm still here. I'm still right fucking here. Maybe I deserved this the whole time. Maybe my reaction afterwards justifies the initial wrong. If I saw anyone else where I am today, I would give them no mercy. I would say, 'she's a fucking pussy. What the fuck is she doing? No kidding this happened. It must have been obvious for years that she was too weak to stand up for herself, to demand better. He probably knew it the whole time that she'd just stand there, taking it all.' And it's fucking true. All of it.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Southern Living

Lately I've had this strange, rather strong urge to move to the South. Or Midwest. Or just anywhere but either coast. I can't help but fall in love with the idea of living in a small town where things are more simple. Of course, this is just an ideal image that I'm sure is just as skewed as what most Midwesterners think of California living. Maybe it has to do with my keeping up with the small handful of Mormon blogs. Maybe I shouldn't make that a habit. I don't think an impromptu move after graduation would do me any good.

Monday, October 24, 2011

stark realizations

it's only been about five weeks. i suppose i really shouldn't expect to feel healed by now. i knew it would take longer than this. i knew it would be months, years, decades, never, who knew. but it would definitely be longer than this. yet here i am, and it's midterms time yet again and i wish i could just sit and read about south american geography and its political effects and be able to focus on it without wanting to occasionally throw the book against a wall.

this wasn't supposed to happen. that's what still makes me angry, every moment, every day. this wasn't supposed to happen. it was supposed to be perfect, but instead it was exactly what could have hurt me the worst. not much can hurt me anymore, and i've prided myself on that. my shell is so fucking hard and it's something that i shouldn't brag about, but damnit it, i've worked hard to make that shell hold up against the shit that's thrown against it. it wasn't enough to protect me from this, though.

not knowing when this will be okay is the scariest part. it scares me that i've become so good at looking stable.

i've noticed that my temper with other people has become shorter. it's like in my mind, when someone does something slightly inconsiderate, instead of brushing it off, my mind screams "no, no, no, i had to feel the worst pain and had to pretend i didn't feel it, so i'm not going to deal with this little one!" so many things wouldn't have hurt me. why did the one thing that could have hurt me the most have to happen? am i going to be this cynical forever? will i always be this pessimistic? will i always feel this stinging bitterness? bitterness has always been a problem with me. it took me a long time to not let the bitterness of my childhood determine who i would be as an adult. but what if all that hard work was for nothing - because if any word sums up my attitude on an hourly basis the most it's bitter. i'm bitter, really fucking bitter. this isn't right. and every time i feel a tinge of pain, as much as it hurts, it makes me equally angry. i'm so angry that i have to feel so fucked up and hurt because of someone else's mistakes. someone else gets to make the most selfish and inconsiderate and disgusting decision of their lives and i'm the one who has to force myself to drive straight on the freeway?

what the fuck. what the fuck am i doing here? what the fuck am i going to do.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

sunday mornings

every saturday night i create these fantastical plans for my sunday morning.

every sunday morning i want to sleep in, until it's sunday afternoon.

this is a problem that needs to change.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

it's hard to not write cheesy blog titles



i almost named this one "baby steps." but that sounded a little bit ridiculous to me.

things are getting better. i wanted everyone to know who only reads the blog and hasn't been in closer contact with me lately. they are getting better, however slow. it's still hard, it's still trying, but it's getting a little easier each day.

i just figured out that you can track the amount of followers that your blog gets and i was literally flabergasted. i only have about a dozen people who openly follow my blog with their google accounts, and only about two who regularly comment. but damn! some days there's only 5 or 6 views, but apparently in the last month there's been plenty of days with 30, 40 or 50 views? what the fuck? and even stranger is when it lists which posts have gotten the most views. not surprisingly a lot of them are ones that i posted to facebook or something, but a lot of them are...not what i thought.

maybe this means i should start being a little more guarded about this little blog of mine. we'll see.

Monday, October 3, 2011

isn't this supposed to make me feel better?

so, i wrote a script. it's a 'dramedy'. the only reason that there's humor in it is because it's how i deal with my pain, so if i wanted to have an honest script, it had to have both: it needed the pain and the emptiness, but it needed the daytime story, too. it needed the fake, bullshit conversations and obnoxious jokes to get laughs and lead everyone in the wrong direction.

tonight made me realize there might be more permanence to this than i thought. a few days after the initial blow, i thought that maybe i was being overdramatic: maybe it WAS just absurd emotion that showed my naivety and age and that i would get over this the same way i've gotten over everything else. then tonight it all just came rushing out before i could even get a grasp on one end of my words to pull them back in. at the very least, i thought i was over some of it. yet...there i was - screaming in my car, asking how i could have meant so little, begging for a reason that anyone could have done this, let alone You.

i was in the shower about an hour ago, wondering when the next time i could just hop in for a quick shower before class without breaking down. how fucking pathetic is that? showering, driving alone, 40% of the songs on my computer, 70% of the people i see on a daily basis - anything can be that thing that pushes me overt that line of holding it all together and letting it all slip through my fingers.

i wonder how everyone would feel if they knew how much of that script came from this stupid fucking blog? would they be uncomfortable, worried, or just not care? who knows. it crossed my mind for a second to mention it at our first rehearsal, just to let them have a small hint at how real this is to me. i decided against it. there's just some things that are meant to be shared.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Writing this from my phone...

...I guess that's what this has come to.

The circle of people I could trust has gotten do much smaller in the last week - which is strange, because youd think this should just be between me and one other person. But instead it's changed me and the way I think forever. I'll never be able to trust as freely, Ill never be comfortable with who I am the way I was before. Everything was different before This. Everything changed because of This.

I'm going to have to simplify everything in my life, this year. I just can't handle everything that I could before. I used to be so proud of that before, too. I was proud of a lot of things, though. When I thought about what this year would be, I used to be so optimistic. I knew it would be amazing and I would be able to do it all, because I always have. Theres been so many time that something difficult or challenging has happened and it just propelled me to work harder, to do more and to make everything else in my life better to make up for it. But This Time is different. This Time the only thing I can do is make sure I wake up. Make sure I dont give up. It would be so much easier to just make it stop at this point.

Ive always been such a big advocator of possible self talk. Telling myself I can do it, I can make it work, I can get through this. This is the first time I haven't even tried. Because this time I know it won't. I'm in a lose-lose situation right now and all I can do is pick the path with the least pain. But what if I can't be okay, even with the better path?

Sunday, September 18, 2011

that moment when your life changes forever

if i'm sure of anything, it's that i've never hurt this bad. fuck any bad feeling i had in the last four months. it doesn't compare. it's a feeling so many people experience in some way, and i never thought it would hurt this badly. it's a bad sign that more than anything i just want to fucking be done with it. i'm so done getting this shit i don't deserve. my biggest goal of europe was to gain some feeling of self worth and finally start to believe that i deserved some good things to be thrown my way. it's been one of my biggest problems my entire life. and here i was starting to actually think there was some value deep in me somewhere, only for life to push me down further than i've ever been. i want to drag myself back to the top, to maybe see a shred of light that i started to see as my days overseas grew fewer - but i just don't know if i have the strength to do it. i feel like i'm being told to climb to the top, but first someone cut off my legs, but i was still climbing pretty high so they cut off my arms, too. fuck it. because now? now, after i worked so hard to be able to say "yeah, i guess i'm alright"? worthless. that's all that remains.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

mormon blogs, the secular left, hypocrisy and women's standards

I stumbled upon an interesting article quite a while ago in which a, "standard-issue late-20-something childless overeducated atheist feminist" admits to obsessing over "Mormon housewife blogs," despite the fact that she has no interest in living that life herself. While I actually enjoyed the article quite a bit, especially her openminded take on it, it was the comments section that completely disgusted me. It took approximately minutes of the article's existence for athiests and liberal lefties around the interweb to come out ready to lash out insults and horrific stereotypes of Mormons. Their comments, of course, read as if they have personal experience, although no doubt their only sources are other blog posts and stories heard from fellow liberal friends.

I have to question why it has become so acceptable to discriminate against religious people, especially those with more fundamental views or those who are a part of a more controversial religion such as Mormonism. Perhaps the Mormon church does encourage (subtly or otherwise) women to stay at home and raise children - in fact, I don't think anyone argues that point in itself. But it's only modern secular society that tells us that a women staying at home and raising children, instead of making her career her first priority, is a foolish and unintelligent thing to do.

Furthermore, I would argue that women who are a part of the "standard-issue late-20-something childless overeducated atheist feminist" group feel just as much, if not more pressure to conform to their own set of stands. While I myself can't exactly group myself in that category (standard, early-20, religiously unsure how to categorize myself, feminist with a liberal education would be more accurate in my case), I know I can already feel the pressures from my own societal group to conform to certain ideals. Religion bashing has become a hobby to so many in secular, Western culture, yet we - us who do not attach a religious title on our facebooks or attend church on sundays - are just as guilty of conforming to norms despite our own personal beliefs. It is not only unfortunte, but it's disgracefl to judge others when we're guilty of the same things ourselves. I would like to ironically use Matthew 7:3 to further my point by adding, "Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?" Hypocrisy is not a pretty trait in anyone, religious or otherwise.

While I would like to think that I have a wide variety of friends with varying views, I would also openly admit that more of my friends tend to be similarly thinking to myself; after all, this is a natural thing to happen, it makes sense that I would seek out people with whom I share similar values and beliefs. They're typically proud democrats with liberal viewpoints on most social issues, and the larger majority of them have either very open minded religious views, with most abstaining from any particular religious title, but preferring to call themselves 'spiritial', (the obsession with the latest generation and that word alone deserves its own blog post) or nonreligious. Yet I know that if I were to sit down to dinner with the most liberal and nonreligious of these friends and tell them that once I graduated from UCLA I wanted to settle down with, get married and immediately start having children and stay at home to raise them, I would be met with fierce opposition and insults to my intelligence and sanity. In fact, I don't know if I would have the support of any single person I know and I would presume that most would ACTIVELY work to change my mind. Yet does anyone devote their time to talking about the brainwashing of the secular world and their values and ideals? No. That would be absurd. Because they're surely not brainwashing...right? They're just forcing standards upon all women to feel highly pressured to get an absurd amount of education, wait until their late twenties or thirties to get married, only to delve further into their education, then, if time and biology permits, to have a child or two (maximum...never more than two, God forbid) to immediately enroll in daycare so that you can continue climbing in your advertising career, devote little time to your family since you and your husband are both working 60 plus hours a week, let your marriage become detached, possibly divorce and then let your children move away to college while you're too busy typing up a memo for your boss to throw them a graduation party. But, on the bright side, you can afford a nice home with the two incomes you earned during your married years and your 7 years in grad school made you obscenely capable of analyzing classic literature.

Surely that is a huge stereotype is there ever was one, but I would venture to say it's a truer stereotype of the general masses than the stereotype that all Mormon women marry at the age of 20 and start their careers as housewives immediately following, baking cupcakes and crafting by day and worshipping their husbands by night. Yes, the secular world loves to point out the failures and downfalls and brainwashing of religious groups, yet vehemently denies its own. Maybe these liberal feminists should put down their Virginia Wolfe and stop listening to Ani DeFranco before bombarding insults at anyone who dare get advice or guidance out of a religious text.



For anyone who wishes to read the original article that sparked my rant:
http://www.salon.com/life/feature/2011/01/15/feminist_obsessed_with_mormon_blogs/index.html

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

it's getting close!

in just over two weeks, i'll be back home in san diego. i'm sort of in shock. one more day here in slovenia, then venice, rome, switzerland and then a very long plane ride. everything has gone by so quicly, yet at the same time i feel like i've been traveling for years. there's a lot i'm looking forward to about this year, though, so i think that will help when the shittiness of leaving kicks in.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

we don't want to sleep tonight

well, the girls just left for the airport. as for me, i'm getting a personal tour of stuttgart by one of matthias' friends before heading out on my train for prague! is it weird that the whole trip hasn't hit me yet? i feel like if i went home with the rest of the girls, i would still be satisfied with what i saw and did while i was here - but in reality i still have the majority of my traveling left to do. my goals: be open to last minute changes, meet new people, step out of my comfort zone and make it home alive. if i accomplish at least most of those, i'll be very happy...the last one is a big priority, though. the entire environment of hostels will be helpful to all of those, also. when we stayed in hostels in berlin and amsterdam, the other folks i was traveling with didn't seem to dig them so much, but i loved them even with the dirtiness and all the other downsides that accompany them!

well, until next time, blogging world.

Monday, August 15, 2011

i could feel my heartbeat taking me down




the other night i was talking about friendships with kate while we were waiting for dinner to be ready. i was explaining how amazed i still am that friendships are on one hand so unbelievably crucial to having a fulfilling life, yet at the same time so fickle. these last few weeks with the girls have definitely proven that to me yet again. when i first got to paris, i didn't really care much for most of the people there so i chose to spend a lot of my daytime hours alone instead. i quickly learned that that would only be worth it for a short time. i eventually found a few girls who were worth giving up the independence of solo day trips in order to enjoy their company, luckily.

but these last few weeks. man. i just could never have imagined they would end up this way. i wouldn't say that i know kate much better since coming here, but only because i've spent so much time with her before this that i don't feel like there's a huge amount left to learn. i am hugely grateful that when i leave here i will only think more highly of her, considering how easy it is to get sick of people when traveling with them. and i am so, so glad that i got to have this trip with paulina. i didn't know her too well before this, and i might have never gotten to know her much better had it not been for coming here with her. but thank goodness i did, because i'm pretty much in love with the girl now. so, at the very least, i will leave germany with that. two improved friendships is a pretty good souvenir if you ask me.

being here these last six or seven weeks has made me really want to travel with chris again. when we went on our road trip together, it wasn't perfect, obviously, but i was pleasantly surprised that we were so compatible when we traveled. some people get along really well, but just shouldn't travel together and i'm so glad that we're not some of those people! i'm trying to figure out how i can save enough money to go backpacking through southeast asia next summer already, and i really hope it can work out somehow. there's a lot of big plans in the works right now, and i can't wait to let everyone in on them.

also, i would pay an obscenely high price for a good burrito right now.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

part two of my eurotrip and some news.

9 more days with the girls and matthias! one of the best parts of traveling around europe is that every time we meet someone they tell me how great a summer they spent in prague is or how budapest is their favorite city or make suggestions for when i go to barcelona. it leaves me in a constant state of anticipation.

chris and i are together again. honestly, i can't believe how it's literally taken away every bad thought in my head that's been drowning me for the last few months. even though a lot of great things happened during them, they've without a doubt been some of the worst of my life. as hard as it's going to be to make our plans for our futures and careers work together, i know it's going to be worth it. and if our time apart taught me anything it's that no job and no grad school will make me feel as happy as hearing "i love you" from chris. it's hard to not spend every one of my spare minutes thinking about how amazing it's going to feel to see him at the airport and be able to just hug and kiss him and tell him how much i love him; i try to stay in the moment and enjoy europe (and don't worry, i am!) but it's always in the back of my mind a little bit. i was talking with paulina and kate on the train a few days before we officially decided to get back together and i was explaining that instead of feeling better and better as time went on, i only fell more in love with him. every day i couldn't wake up next to chris didn't help me get over him, it only reminded me of what a great and unbelievably wonderful thing we have. at the end of the day, i'm proud of us. we made a hard decision and thought about things long term, but once we realized we made a mistake, we fixed it despite the judgements we'll most definitely get from others for it. and honestly, i couldn't care less. because here i am in a beautiful country, in an exciting continent on this crazy trip and the reason that i'm smiling is because i'm thinking about the same man that i've been insanely, madly in love with since i've been sixteen years old. who knows - maybe i'll look back at this when i'm forty-five and laugh at how naive i was. or maybe i'll look back at it, then look next to me at chris and our life that we've made together every step of the way and laugh with him about how we knew it from the very beginning. we knew we'd make it.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

paris!

paris is...amazing. i've fallen so deeply in love with the city for so many reasons. in all my life paris has been the only city that i've visited and honestly thought that it was worth all of the hype it gets...and paris gets A LOT of hype. every street is so beautiful and each building tells such an individual story. i love that everything is preserved, yet the city doesn't feel stuck in the past.

there's less than a week left in paris, and i'll be sad to leave, but i'm so unbelievably excited for the next part of the trip! as much as i love paris, and as much as i love the girls i've met in the trip, i just can't imagine how much fun it's going to be traveling with kate, paulina, becca and matthias. it's going to be such a different experience and i know that i'll truly have lifelong memories from my month with them! then of course the insanity that will be traveling alone for one month. i think the reflection time will be much needed, though.

i've already learned so much while i've been here, i can't imagine how i'm going to feel by the time it's all over. as much as i feel i've discovered while i'm here, it's also left me even more confused about certain things. i thought that being on my own would solve so many issues i've been dealing with the last few months, but for many of them, it's just left me with more thinking to do.

i can't even imagine what it will be like to come back to los angeles and right back to school once i return. this is going to be a summer of a lifetime, that's for sure.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

when even vegas isn't enough

well, apparently even vegas wasn't a big enough distraction for me right now.
on the last night i was heaving into becca's arms with my face drenched and warm from an endless stream of tears.

two finals tomorrow. i'm not ready for either.

seven more days until i'm done with my last final.

twenty-six more days until i leave for paris.



fuck.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

triggers

it's amazing how the smallest of things can act as a trigger. maybe it has something to do with the fact that everything bad happened all at once, so pretty much any area of my life can be a triggering point. i pulled an all-nighter tonight to finish this stupid fucking paper that i've been putting off, and about an hour ago around 5:30am i just fucking broke down in the bathroom. even as i was a heaving mess on the bathroom floor, all i could say to myself was "you're pathetic." i really used to pride myself on holding it all together - because i didn't just hold myself together on the outside, but i held myself together on the inside, too. i was stable, i always got everything done just as efficiently as ever and i had plenty of excess energy to use on others as i've always done. now i can't even meet my own needs, and it's fucking pathetic. a large majority of my pitiful amount of energy i do have is spent searching for distractions. this will be the first weekend that i'll be spending the entirely of it at the apartment, and i honestly don't know what i'm going to do. i now have literally zero resources to go find or buy myself any distractions, as i can't even afford gas in my car. i'm literally scared to do nothing. god, even as i'm writing this i'm cringing, so i can't even imagine reading it from an outsider's perspective.

fuck. i need to stop writing in this thing.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

complaincomplaincomplain

i wish i could say i knew it'd be this hard.

but i can't.

i've become pretty much useless in the area of academia.
i've become surprisingly useful in areas such as escapism, and escaping literally, via going to san diego every weekend.

when i have been doing the readings for class, they've been amazing relevant to my areas of interest. it makes me excited to join the peace corps, and go to grad school and build a career doing something i'm passionate about. i guess daydreaming about my future has been another form of escaping, though. because heaven knows, all of those things are far into the future.

however, the short term future is looking pretty amazing, if i can just skip these next five weeks. 38 days and i'll be in paris. one month in paris, followed by one month in amsterdam and germany with becca, kate and paulina, then one month of traveling to ten other cities by myself. i'm hoping this will turn out to be just what i'm needed.

Monday, May 9, 2011

he knows his shit

"When I'm sad, I stop being sad, and be awesome instead."
Barney Stinson

beautiful letdown

after posting a video of "bruised" and saying it was in my top three list of memory inducing songs, rickie asked what the other two were. hands down was one of them, without a doubt, but i had a hard time deciding if beautiful letdown or the way i am; i went with the latter. only because typing the song title out, let alone playing or thinking about it is enough to induce tears.

this weekend i was with two close friends in their kitchen and when i threw out a few comments about how i've been feeling, they claimed it was "awkward" to talk about. i was surprised at how bad i felt hearing that.

i guess i was expecting people to just understand how painful this has been and is going to continue to be, but instead people just assume that two weeks is enough time to be okay again. it's amazing how badly my friends read me sometimes. i don't blame them, but it's still surprising. i just wish that i could be with a friend and have them look at me and say "i know that you feel completely empty inside, and that it's not getting easier each day like everyone said it would. i understand how hard it is to never know if you made the right decision. you feel like shit all the time and that's OKAY." but instead we just joke around like always and drink and be merry and live life like nothing happened. again, i truly don't blame anyone. i haven't been expressing how difficult it's been - but i honestly don't know how i would possibly do that. how do you tell everyone that you can't let your mind wander for a minute, or you risk bursting out into a sob in your bathroom? how do you tell everyone that nothing feels the same anymore? i guess i'll never know; i guess i'll just write blogs about it.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

waiting

still waiting to feel normal again. i keep repeating cliches in my head to make myself feel better: one day at a time; time heals all wounds; everything happens for a reason; if it's meant to be, it'll be; everything always works out for the best. yet, as soon as a new cliche pops into my mind, i instantly hurl a mental 'fuck you' at it and continue on with my moping. i figure i'm allowed to have a significant moping period - right?

the shittiest part of this whole thing is that there are no hard feelings and there's nothing but support coming from both of us. at the end of the day we had to decide between completely working our futures around the other person and changing our dreams, or following our other goals first. i hate that it was still the hardest decision of my entire life. and i hate that we're both doing this with such great goals in our minds, too. i mean, for goodness' sake, all i want in my life is to help people. that's all i've ever wanted, and i'm carving my entire future around making the biggest impact possible. yet, where is the reward? so far, the first step in that future has brought me the worst feelings i've ever experienced in my entire life. as much as everyone claims that good things happen to good people, my faith in that motto continues to dwindle. perhaps twenty years on the earth isn't long enough to make a firm judgement, but as much as i'd love to call myself an optimist, i'm far from it.

maybe there will be light at the end of the tunnel. then again, fuck all of these cliches, whether they turn out to be true or not.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

insert lyrics here



this song intrigued me the first time i heard about it. normally when you hear a song like this one, where the chorus is repeating the line "fall face first, hit rock bottom," you'd expect some tear inducing verses and mellow beat. instead it's a happy beat that makes you want to hop in the car and dance and enjoy yourself.

i'm trying to make that my attitude for the remainder of this school year. ucla and all that has accompanied it definitely isn't the hardest thing i've had to get through - i don't even know if it'd make the top 10 - but it's definitely the newest experience when you take the whole lifestyle change as a whole. life has crept up all the way from san diego and my past is leaking into my present in ways that i wish it hadn't, the present is overwhelming in all that it demands, and my future is a constant reminder that i have to pull off perfection this next year.

now that i've been living in los angeles for 10 months already, i know that i saw this move in the wrong light. i thought that coming to los angeles would mean that all i had to worry about was myself and that i could finally have a completely fresh start. well, not only has that been completely false, but i'm glad that it has. so many people that i've spoken to have no interest in returning home for winter break or ever, for that matter, and really haven't kept the majority of their friendships that they had in their home towns. i consider myself lucky that the many of my friendships in san diego have actually grown since i've moved, and i'm always excited and enthusiastic to come home. i may never live in san diego again, or i may end up living there when i graduate ucla, but it doesn't matter, because if this move has taught me anything it's that relationships are what you put into them. if they're worth it, then they'll work out, and that's really the bottom line.

Monday, April 4, 2011

still filling that role

well, i'm still on a search to find the balanace of the "glue" role i'm consistently finding myself in.

i've predicting that my favorite part of europe is going to be the dance clubs. not even for the drinking or partying, but for the actual dancing. it's a little absurd how happy i am after a few solid hours of dancing. there's very few times that i feel more relaxed, even if it means waking up with sore legs.

tonight i drank a bottle of sparking wine - which i've since been told is a stereotypical whore drink, who knew? - while reading and writing about different methods of furthering the development in sub-saharan africa.

life's been throwing a lot of curve balls, but i feel like i've been catching them fairly well. i'm always at this personal crossroads where i don't know if i want to congratulate myself or tell myself what a shitty job i did. this week i'm striving to do the former.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

glue

it's hard when you feel like the glue.

somehow a strange mixture of your ego and your self-consciousness creates a reality where every facet of your life rests upon your two shoulders. without you, everything will fall apart into too many pieces to put together again. your well-being? it's all on you. her sanity? his addiction? her problems? their happiness? it's all on you. everything becomes your problem because you know if you let it slip for one second, the rest of your perfectly blocked existence will be in on the secret: blocking doesn't mean shit. it doesn't matter how tight your schedule is, and it doesn't matter how many people's problems you fix; that crack will still linger: it's an endurance runner, not a sprinter. it won't destroy your mirage in one explosion, but it will let it fall to pieces as you watch silently, too scared to move. in one step, you could leap forward and hold it together before anything breaks, or you could step forward and knock it all down. that chance keeps you frozen.

Friday, February 11, 2011

wishful thinking



i'm going home tomorrow for the weekend :) it's absurd how giddy i am about it, considering it's only for two days. i love being able to drive down through casa de oro and attach a memory with each street. i love hopping on the 94, and lestat's on tuesday nights, and knowing where to get the best mexican food, and i just freaking love san diego!

sometimes i have to wonder if i'll ever end up there again. i can't imagine never living in spring valley again.

so much has been changing lately, but all too much of it has to be kept in the dark, for now!

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

oh, the places you'll go

i've been meaning to sit down and write a comprehensive post about the expectations vs. realities of ucla, but, of course, it's yet to be done. i thought that i would point out one, hopefully provoking the need to jot the rest down at a later time.

before coming to ucla, having only experienced monte vista and community college, i imagined a place of constant intellectual stimulation. when you weren't being engaged in a life-altering lecture, then you were partaking in discussions with fellow students about philosophy and concepts that are too complex for the average joe. okay, maybe my expectations weren't quite that high, but they weren't too far from it, either.

the reality of ucla has been somewhat disappointing. the work load is undeniably bigger, but just because there's more assigned pages to read and longer papers and so on, but the actual content is lacking from what i imagined it to be. it's harder, more complex, more thorough - sure. of course the step from community college to university is a step up, but i thought it'd be a higher step as far as the level of thinking and analyzing that's required. maybe it's the masochist in me, but i was hoping to enroll in a class wherein, no matter how hard i worked or how much i studied, the substance of the class was just too difficult for me to fully grasp. i realize that sounds extremely douchey, but so be it. what i've encountered has not been quite as challenging as i'd hoped. i'm putting in more effort than before, but only because i'm expected to know more, overall - more details, more ideas, more authors, etc. but when i actually stop and think about it, if i disregard one professor who comes to mind as actually challenging when it comes to both work load and subject matter, i haven't been more intellectually stimulated here at ucla than i was while at san diego city college.

yet there's this elitist attitude that accompanies the "direct" uc students, that result in many transfer students i've spoken to (although i've never particularly felt this way) feeling inadequate upon arrival. the attitude is rather prevalent, although subtle. i remember someone who i had been fairly good friends with making a comment about how i should borrow one of their 2008 ucla shirts, because it'd look like i've been here longer. while obviously the comment meant no mal intent, it definitely revealed some underlying thoughts. who cares if i just transferred?! comments like these have been repeatedly made to me, as if i would gain some prestige by being believed to be a direct student, rather than a transfer student.

sometimes i'll note some comments made by students speaking lowly of community college, in general. hearing them is similar to the feeling when a friend talks badly about your parent - you're allowed to call your mom a bitch all you want, but as soon as someone else says it, it becomes offensive. what frustrates me the most about these comments is that there's a prevalent assumption about uc students that they're receiving a significantly better and more challenging education than community college students and that's simply not true. you're spending more money, and you're spending more hours on homework, but that, by no means, means that you're receiving a better education.

as much as i complain about the workload, myself, the biggest changes that have resulted in things being harder to handle is that i'm spending a significantly larger amount of time doing activities and getting involved on campus than i did in san diego, and the added stress that is constantly present due to money issues. there have still been plenty of nights where i wrote a paper last minute, or postponed any studying until the night before, and still received very good grades on things. so, while even my experience has shown that, yes, my life at ucla is more trying and i do spend significantly more time on my studies than i did while attending city college, much of the difficulty has nothing to do with the academic side.

this isn't to say that ucla, overall, has been a disappointment. but i feel like it's important to not create a false image for everyone about the transfer experience, because i definitely feel like many of my uc friends did that for me, rather they realized it or not. though, to be honest, i think they do it both to justify any hardships or laziness that occurs, but also to build up an image of prestige around themselves and their experiences. i don't think everyone purposefully does this, but now after being here, i definitely think that a lot of people aren't being very accurate when they talk about college. after all, the stereotypes and assumptions about universities vs. community colleges have to start somewhere.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

secret?



i judge those who write in cursive much more highly than those who write in print. sorry.

Monday, January 31, 2011

natural corruption



every time i think of my future and all of the plans and careers that i've dreamt about for years, i'm worried that i'll begin to stray from my passions and instead veer towards the more stable and financially rewarding careers. i've never been able to imagine myself having a normal career. not that i can't imagine myself working a 9-5, because i think that'd be just fine, but i could never imagine myself dedicating myself to a job that's not directly and completely devoted towards helping people. i could never be a restaurant manager, i could never punch numbers at some business firm and i could never do marketing work for an ad agency. it's strange in the sense that although i've never thought lowly of anyone else who wishes to do these types of things, i would never be okay if i did them myself. at least, i don't think so.

i'm scared that the longer i go to school and the longer i hear professor after professor lecture us about the "real world" instead of their course title, i'll grow numb to my passions. everything in me yearns for this goal, this purpose, that i've always felt stirring inside me since i was a child. but this build up of real world lessons is undeniable at best and i'm already sick of them. sometimes i hate that i've lacked the naivety that i see many of my peers still possess today, and that i've lacked it for so long. that harshness that's resulted is such a significant part of who i am today, and i absolutely hate it. i see it creep up in my conversations with others, no matter how hard i try to suppress it. that realist inside me is a constant reminder that i might fall short of my lofty goals. maybe life will happen and i won't have a choice but to choose that first job that comes my way and maybe i'll get stuck there. but as hard as the realist side is pushing, i'm trying my best to push back and remind myself that it's possible. maybe it will be hard, and maybe i won't get paid shit to do it, and maybe it'll mean putting a lot of things on hold, but it is possible if i'm willing to sacrifice enough.

why do i always go through this process of self-doubt during midterms and finals?

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

what's in a name?



despite how absurdly blunt and straightforward i am, i'll actually go to a great length to avoid hurting someone's feelings. now, this doesn't mean i won't share my views about how truly disgusting i find many conservative policies, (because i don't think anyone should get offended by something like that), but i absolutely hate the idea of really making someone feel bad about themselves. often times it's the smallest of things that can really sting, and in particular, i always note when someone remembers my name or not. because of this, i try my best to remember names, even though i'm naturally quite horrible at it.

earlier today, i had a break in between classes and decided to spend it memorizing french vocab at the kerchoff coffee shop on campus. a tall, nicely dressed guy wearing loafers sits down at my table and says sarcastically, "crazy running into you here, amy."

sarcastically said because this is where i met him. it was the middle of fall quarter and everyone was in Midterm Mode. the tables were all approximately one backpack length away from each other, causing everyone to be friendlier than usual. me and Mr. Loafers were close enough to recognize a change in each others breathing, and therefore were forced to notice that we were both studying out of the same book. he asked if he could bounce some ideas off of me, and moved his chair a few inches over, so as to be officially at my table. i coincidentally had something to do only fifteen minutes later, although i suspect he just thought i was trying to get away from him, as he quickly offered to move back to "his" table when i informed him of my upcoming meeting, but i tried my best to assure him that if i was trying to avoid him i would have came up with a much cooler and/or urgent excuse to leave. normally the combination of a handsome member of the opposite sex, a great sense of style and great (albeit short) conversation should cement a name into my mind, but my memory failed me almost instantly after leaving. a shame, but an irrelevant one as far as i knew.

i reply to his "crazy running into you here, amy" with "yeah....yeah, it is." i make a mental note that he's wearing loafers again, but this pair is an even better than the last, then focus on the task at and. his name - what is his name? my memory browses through some common possibilities, but quickly dismisses them all. he was no "jeremy," "jake," or "john" but beyond that i was without a guess. although the idea of simply asking his name comes briefly, i disregard it completely within seconds: there is no way i am asking his name, but i will find out somehow. he sits down and we resume our conversation seamlessly and within seven minutes he's telling me about how his family insisted on camping every summer during his childhood, and imitating his dad's unique method of fishing.

now, i feel quite confident about my conversational skills. sure, sometimes two people just don't hit it off, but i feel that 9 times out of 10, i can make the conversation go quite smoothly, whether the other person is helping that process or not. however, this time that was not the case. my goal was not to have an interesting conversation as it was at our last meeting, but rather to figure out his name. in the process of accomplishing this goal, i had to sacrifice any attempt at seeming normal, or able to carry on with an intriguing chat.

he's in the middle of his dad's impression, and my mind is racing for a way to leeway into some topic or some way to bring up names. i have an idea, admittedly a really bad one, but an idea nonetheless.

"yeah, my parents are pretty crazy too. when i was really little i was obsessed with uhm...cows! yeah, cows, so, uh, ever since i was little whenever my mom calls me she uses a, uhm, cow voice when she says my name. you know, like, instead of 'moooo!' she'll say 'amyyyyyy' yeah...pretty....crazy. so, uh, how does your mom say your name when she calls?"

it was nonsensical and completely idiotic, but it was the best i had. any sane person would have just avoided using names or just asked straight out, but for some reason that was no longer an option. we could have turned into best friends who discussed music, culture and life, but i was willing to throw that all away to find out his name. he looked at me with an expression that could only be explained with the phrase 'what the fuck.'

"uh, i guess she just says my name...normal...."

"pfft! NOOO wayyyyy! everyone's parents say their name...uh, different. just, you know, show me."

"really, she just says it normally..."

"noooooooo, just do it, come onnnnn."

"well, she just calls and says "hey, emilio."

"right. that makes sense."



emilio. his name was emilio.