Sunday, November 27, 2011

I'm done

I had a really weird dream with my son's dad in it. I dreamed I was hurt, I couldn't believe it. Yet, at the same time it made sense, though I was still hurt. You know what happened? Nothing literally happened, but what was going on was I found out that my sons' dad was gay. He was with someone, and that someone was a guy. I was so confused. I was hurt on two different levels. I was hurt that he was gay and I had been with him. I was hurt that he didn't know before and we had gone through all that we went through for nothing. A little boy was born and he would not have been born to grow up  in a nasty world, or in this ordeal. I was hurt because he found someone, and I haven't. I know that sounds weird but that was how I was feeling.

I guess it does sound stupid to say, or to think, that one goes through the things that one goes through for nothing. It does feel like things happen and for what? For nothing. But, that really is how things just go, isn't it? Things happen and in the end there is nothing. It's like a waste of time.  Well, perhaps I shouldn't say that things happen for nothing because we do have some sort of personal growth, or some inner growth and learn from it. Some people never learn though. There are some people who are just so closed minded that they don't feel that they themselves were the problem, or that they contributed to the problem, all they feel is that they were right and the others are wrong. They have the right way of thinking and the others do not. Okay, I think I'm just rambling now.

I realize that I contributed to the problem my son's dad and I had. I realize that I could have stopped everything, and I didn't? Why? Well, it doesn't matter why, there shouldn't be any excuses, or least  they don't matter anymore, however valid they are. Things happened, and that is that.

I wish he would stop bothering me. Almost every single day there is a phone call from him, and not all the time it is for calling his son, and when he does talk to him, he has things to say to me. Oh my GOD!!!! Stop freaking calling me!! Stop talking to me, please. I beg you. I'm begging you now as much as I have over the damn phone. Let's just leave things how they are with our son. The things we have arranged around him and for him. It's done. Now, stop calling to talk to me, please?

Okay. I've begged you, and I've gotten nasty with you. And still nothing! When I ask you to stop, you tell me to think about it again, to think about it twice, and more. When I get nasty, you either want to take our son more, you want him more days, or you threaten to not be involved with our son. Is there no reason with you? Must you always have things your way? I don't know what do to anymore. I am filing for divorce now, and I just hope that when you get those papers there will be no problems... though, somehow I doubt that. This is going to be such an expensive divorce isn't it?

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Oh so pretty

I wore the new jeans with the simple sneakers and my dark grey tank top. I realized something, as long as I wear even just a shirt that makes me feel pretty its good for me, even if its just my half inch sandals, its good for me, even if its the eyeliner, its good for me. I like it simple.

I need to feel pretty, I have been trying to make an effort into making myself feel a bit more confident. If I leave the house feeling pretty then my self esteem will go up a bit for that day, and I will be able to go about my day without feeling uncomfortable. I know it shouldn't matter what others see... and to be honest I don't think this is about what others can physically see, but its about how I physically see myself and how I feel about myself. So, in order to boost myself up a bit I am making sure to do something, however miniscule it is. As long as I can feel it I think I'll be alright in that aspect, for that day anyway.

I painted my nails red today, bright red, so bright they look bloody red. I like it. I like the way they look with my soft brown skin. Every time I touch my face with them I look at them. Every time I brush my bangs back I look at them. Every time I scratch an itch on my arm I look at them. Every time I do anything with my hands I feel compelled to look at them, almost stare. They don't look like my hands with these bloody red nails. They look pretty, they look even sexy. I think I'm in love with them. Hah.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

She wants an egg...

First thing first: I've been feeling good lately, very good. I hope it lasts.


Someone whom I've known for about a year asked me if I would be willing to donate an egg (or eggs), I wasn't sure what to say. I thought it would be fine if it would make her happy, without really thinking about it, but I knew that I needed to think and research, so I told her to give me some time to think about it.

What is there to think about. Well, that egg (or eggs) would have my genes. So, genetically the "baby" would be mine, even though she explained to me that it would be hers because she is the one that is going to carry it and it would be her blood, her body would be "nurturing" it. Technically, it would be hers.

Besides this, the risks don't seem too light. There is a reason why these egg donors are compensated: because of the risks involved. It is easier for a man to donate sperm than for a woman to donate eggs. There are the birth control pills (which I do not take, and don't plan on taking as a type of birth control), and the hormonal injections that make you produce more eggs. There are the effects and the risks from the hormonal injections like severe bleeding and ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome. Any hormonal treatment that can be dangerous in the short term can cause long-term health problems. I'm not sure about the chances of this but I do not want to risk it.

I'm not sure how I feel about someone having a baby with my genes.

When I think of the hormonal injections to make you produce more eggs I think of rBST used on cows to create more milk. It has nasty effects on the cows including infection- which can be treated with antibiotics (but that also can in turn have nasty ones on us, but that's another story). Now, the cows are continuously being injected with rBST to continue producing more milk, and an egg donor would be getting injections every day for up to three weeks. Those three weeks would be very intense on their bodies, the mere thought of the side effect has me shaking my head. The risks of these hormones on the cows and the women are unpleasant.

Anyway, the whole thing is unnatural. I wish she'd reconsider adoption. I would totally adopt.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Well, today I walked into the Health Center and asked about their psychological services. Before I had time to think about it and change my mind, I made an appointment- for later that day. I had been thinking about seeing a therapist, but it had not crossed my mind to go to the Health Center and especially not today. It was very unplanned.

The checklist I was given made me feel awful. Suicidal thoughts. Wish you were dead or didn't exist. Difficulty sleeping. Loss of appetite or overeating.  A lot of those were close to the "every day" space.

I just remembered something: I have talked to someone before. I can't believe I didn't remember this till now. I went to one session when I was in Riverside. The first and only session I had gone to. And I never went back. I remember the feelings I had after I got out: immature, incapable, ashamed, foolish, embarrassed. This time I did not get any of those feelings. When I began to talk I did feel a bit foolish at first, but after I walked out I felt like I was off to a good start, and even a bit of relief. I set an appointment for next week. Let's see how things go.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Since, that post it's been better. Mostly because I've been busy. I had my exam, researching for my term paper, getting ppr work done for my permit, and getting stuff done for my son's preschool. I got a call from a school, which isn't really that close, but that's okay, I will take it. It looks like the one close to us is not going to be calling us. So, I haven't been home. Which is good. But I feel so lonely. Heh.

It looks like two days a week I have to go in to work thirty minutes. Before we left a parent asked me if I would be able to go in thirty minutes earlier because she had to go in at work early. I think she had asked the other teacher but knowing her I'm sure she didn't want to. Anyway, my boss text me today and told me that it was fine for me to go in early, if I would be willing to. I agreed, thinking I would get paid what I get paid. Then she text me back and told me that the parent was going to pay me a lot more than I get an hour just for those thirty minutes. Wow. So, there is some good news. It would only be for the rest of the summer session, but that is fine with me. Some extra cash is extra cash and very much accepted!

Monday, July 25, 2011

I want to be happy

I like when I decide to do things and do them without hesitating, but mostly everything I do I hesitate. Why is that? Yesterday when I started feeling blue I decided "tonight, I am going to go for a run." I did, my son fell asleep early so I decided to take that opportunity and go early. I ran about three miles, don't know the time I did, and frankly I don't care. I ran, got tired, and felt a little better. I want to go tonight to, and I don't want to hesitate, so I will not even think about it until tonight, if my son falls asleep at 8, cool it won't be too late. If he falls asleep at 10, that's too bad, I will still go. I need to go.

Alright, so these past couple of days have been very blue feeling for me. Well, since yesterday. For some reason it seems to start on Sundays. You know what, I hate it. Yes, I hate it.

I was talking to someone last night (on the phone), and he made me feel worse. Not on purpose, merely by talking about himself, and about what his interests are and how he feels about women and men, culture, etc. I had mentioned to him earlier that I was feeling blue and was going to go for a run to de-stress a bit. He didn't ask anything about it, and I was kind of glad, because I wasn't sure whether I would say anything or not.

Sometimes, like last night and today, I feel like I am just dead weight. I feel there is no life in me. There is nothing in me that makes me not just an interesting human, but someone that someone could hang out with, have a relationship with, etc. Whenever I talk to people, I mostly just listen, sometimes I'll say something. But mostly I won't because I don't know what to say, I don't know how to word things, I don't know how to phrase things, I just don't know. This makes the other person feel awkward: my quietness, and my inability to carry on a conversation. I am much better communicating through writing rather than verbally.

This guy was so sure of himself. I like that in a person, any person. It makes me admire them. They know the kind of person they are, unlike someone writing here, and they are proud of it and proud of themselves. They know this is what they need to do. Why can't I be sure of myself? Why can't I say this is who I am? Maybe because I still don't know who I am, and that is pissing me off a lot. I think that is one of the reasons why I hold so much (omg, I can't think of that word. okay I just looked it up, don't know why I couldn't think of the word) resentment and pain created by someone who I think needs help. I know I need help too, I don't want to be like this person, and much less be the cause of pain for my son. I want him to have a better childhood, adolescence, and etc. I want him to be able to be himself (I'm at McDonald's and my eyes are filled with tears, and I'm trying to hold them from flowing out). Why am I having so much trouble bringing myself to get help?

My family is my family, and will always be. Unfortunately, my family is not very productive, and they don't seem to have much drive. Sometimes I feel like I am like that, and I don't want to be. There are stuff that I want to do, but the drive and motivation to do them is lacking a lot.

I feel guilty and sorry for my son for being born with a mother who doesn't seem to have a lot to offer, a mother who needs help. A mother who doesn't even know who she is. One day she is this way, the next she is that way. My interests are short-lived, and there seems to not be any follow-through. I'm thinking whether I should even start anything, because I probably won't stick to it. I always say I should do this, or I should start this, but have I? Why? Why haven't I.

I feel too conscious of the way that I am, and I don't like it. There are people that are like me, and they are okay with it. By that I mean, there are people who are not very productive or have much drive, and they are okay with it, they are happy. They don't want to go do things beyond what they can do, they don't want to do anything more other than go shopping, party, etc. and they are fine with that. I'm not saying that's bad, but that's just not someone that I want to be (if people are happy doing what they do, then that's good. I'm not one to judge. Hey they are happy) though I feel like it is who I am because I am surrounded by that.

I'm having so much trouble going out there, and meeting new people. I am having trouble with a lot of things I guess. Ay. Sometimes I feel like it would be better if I wasn't even here. Seriously. Don't get me wrong. I'm not suicidal, at all, I couldn't bare dying with the guilt and shame of leaving my son. So, yeah I have someone to live for.

I still have a lot to figure out.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Doing Homework

I told my son a couple of nights ago that I had to do some homework, so we needed to have some quiet time. Meaning looking at books, using crayons, markers, scissors, etc. you know things you can do quietly. He said "I have to do homework too" Lol. Okay, so he grabbed his notebook and started doing "hw." I thought I'd snap a picture with my cellphone...
My camera is messed up. My son was messing with the lens part. I caught him turning it on and off just to see it slide in and out and trying to grab it when it popped out and keep it from sliding back in.

Anyway, nothing to write but thought I'd share the picture =)

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Lonely mood, and other stuff...

Okay, I'm going to reveal things that I've never revealed to anybody, but I feel safe doing it here, since I trust the people who read this and nobody I know directly reads this. It might be a little too detailed but it feels therapeutic and revealing.

Well, I'm in one of my lonely moods. My son isn't here and I am not enjoying my alone time. It's too... well, lonely. Sometimes, I feel like forgetting everything and not care about what I do. I know how I am feeling and I know that if I were to be placed in a situation where someone were to "lure" me, I would fall. I'm that "vulnerable" right now. So, I don't want to place myself in that situation. Sometimes though, like today, I just want to emerge myself in that vulnerability and let it take over. If I were to do that, where would it lead me? Would it lead me to a bar? Somewhere to meet someone and have casual sex, or a one night stand? I also know that having sex, making love, or whatever you'd like to call it has a very profound effect on me. It really penetrates deeply (no pun intended) into my whole being. Sometimes I feel envy towards those who are able to do things and not feel anything. Let it just be that, and period. Just sex. I guess that is what it is for many people, just sex. It is what it should be anyway, since we are animals with urges.

What about those emotional urges? Perhaps that is what I am vulnerable to. Perhaps I am just emotionally needy? I've only been with one person (by been, I mean had done more than just sleep in bed), and from the moment I allowed myself to be lead, and to be touched, he had me. Then, slowly is started moving into something else. It's awful to be taken advantage of. I am going to tell you that I have been. Although it is someone that I had already become connected with, that is what makes it more disturbing (for me at least). Why is there a need to take advantage? I guess others would say its not being taken advantage of because it's my "other half". Perhaps that can happen when one enters a relationship without much maturity. Man, I'm not making any sense. The cars from my train of thoughts has scattered.

I'll try again. Your emotions go haywire once you realize, or even before, that it is not normal to have tears in your eyes when the person you trust is forcing himself on you. It's not normal to have him raging mad when he is not getting what he wants and calling you names and pushing you around until he gets it. It is also not normal to be disgusted by this person once the act of sex has been done, however mutual it seems. Ayayay. And his "friend" trying to rape me (I really don't like that word, don't know what word to use), didn't help any. If anything it probably made things worse. I remember one time, a few months after it happened, we were watching something with his cousin and his girlfriend, and I leaned in against him and wanted to give him a kiss, but he leaned back and looked at me with disgusted eyes... he mumbled something but he also said something "you had sex with [him]" I was taken back by this. It came out of nowhere. I told him I didn't. He didn't believe me, and it had me sobbing. I wanted help, he didn't want none of it.

All this sounds like a typical woman staying with the dead-beat husband. I hate it. wow I used the word hate.... Thankfully, I've left.... so.... Why am I still dwelling? Grr.

Anyway, what was I writing about? Oh, yes. Sometimes I want to have sex with no strings attached, but that is something I cannot do. Sex/love, it takes a lot out of me. I wouldn't be able to do that without becoming attached. That, I'm sure would have the guy running for his life. Heh.

See how thoughts jump from one thing to another? Mine do anyway.

Quiet equals quiet not smart.

I know I am not smart. Not at all. People always say that it is usually the quiet ones that have a lot to say, or intelligent things to contribute. But I am going to say that is not true. At least in my case it is not. There are such people that are quiet and shy. That doesn't mean they are smart. I am a big dork, and the main reason why I don't say much is because I can say things that are just stupid, and I realize it right after I say it. So, I just don't say a lot. I can be an airhead.

It really upsets me when people say "you were always smart, why don't you..." or "hey, you're smart, figure this out..." and give me something I have absolute no knowledge of. What??? Seriously, I'm not really sure why they think I am smart, if they don't even know me. All they know is that I was this quiet girl at school, who did all her homework and liked to read. It was an escape from... I don't even know what. I guess the "social life." Not that I didn't want to have one, but I would always think why bother, if nothing will come of it. Once someone talks to me and realizes how boring and lifeless I can be they just leave. Also, I was kind of a sociophobe. People frightened me, and especially groups of people.  There were a few friends who I was able to confide in. A couple only actually. They were the ones that stuck around because they were nice, and understanding.

I'm not sure how this posts came about. There's more, but don't want to bore you or myself.

Friday, July 8, 2011

No more Coffee

I've been coffee free, or actually caffeine free, for two weeks now. I've got to tell you that it has been different without it. In a good way. When I had coffee I would feel tired most of the time. I think I had become too dependent. I needed it in the morning and sometimes in the late afternoon. I would have trouble completing my homework in then night because I would feel the crash (big time), and sometimes I wouldn't even complete it. Now, well there is still some trouble completing it because I'm tired, but at least I don't feel the nasty crash, which would barely allow me to keep my eyes open. I also had trouble waking up in the morning, even if I slept six or seven hours. Now, I sleep about the same but I feel good getting up. My body doesn't feel heavy, nor do my eyes. They feel light and ready to do what needs to be done (for the most part anyway).

So the main difference is the tiredness, heaviness, and sleepiness. But I have to say that the hour later that I go in for work helps a lot... I attribute it to the light and darkness. When I wake up at 5, its still kind of dark out and a bit hard to get up. Now I wake up at 6, and its light outside, and easier to get up... not sure if its because of that or the coffee... I stopped drinking coffee when I didn't have to wake up so early. I guess we'll see once I start getting up at 5 again.

I have been so busy lately. I been working seven hours a day, and my son is now staying with me all day and goes with his dad on Sundays. And he doesn't really let me do any class assignments. I am only taking one, and its eight weeks and pretty intense. I already missed three assignments and I'm not sure how I am keeping up with the rest... I haven't really used the book as much as I would like to due to lack of time. Someone should get rid of "time". One thing i will not get rid of sleep... I HAVE to sleep for at least 6 hours. I've already made that a must. I don't know how people have time for work, school, and kids. Kudos to them.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Lake Without Ripples

It upsets me that I have to have coffee in order to be able to concentrate and stay in task with what I'm doing. My summer class has started and even though it is just one class, it will be only eight weeks and thus very intense. For the first week I have to read four chapters and turn in four assignments already! That's not including the "quiz" (though they are more like exams).

Tomorrow is the last day of the school year. I will have a week off before the school starts it's fist summer session. Oh. Guess what? My son will be with me for the summer =).

I think too much sometimes. Especially on the bus. I am thinking and thinking and sometimes awful things that I don't even want to mention in here. I feel horrible for even thinking about these events. How can something so awful pop into my mind. Out of no where. Well, maybe not out of nowhere, because one thought always leads to another. Sometimes these thoughts are so intense that it literaly makes me cry, it feels like it really happened right before it feels like it was a bad dream. Then I realize: it was neither.

Even right now I want to cry, I want to say "wake up" and wake up to realize that there is nothing wrong. Realize that everything is the way it should be, that there is no more staring off into the distance, there is no more thoughts. There is only what is, or what you see. There is no more looking at it from your point of view, there is no more involvement with anybody. All there is is people, without thoughts, without feelings. People getting things done because that is what should be. Why? Because we've made it to be like that. No more feeling bad, but then also no more feeling happy. All there would be is contentment. Like the lake without ripples, it would be seren.

Friday, June 17, 2011

I have to wake up at 3:30am, I need to take a shower and sleep. So I won't write. But, I thought I'd share this (I think it's too funny):

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Plastic Bags and Other Trash

Okay, my son is having a late nap, so I thought I'd take advantage and post something. I am so tired, I don't want to log on tonight, but I do want to write even (like I said in the previous posts) if I don't really write about anything.

Today, I have some interesting news. Beginning July 1st plastic grocery bags in unincorporated areas of Los Angeles County will be banned. So those major supermarket stores and retail stores with pharmacies will not be allowed to hand out plastic grocery bags- the exception is the plastic bags used to hold fruit, meat, etc. Just a couple of days ago a few stores had been handing out free reusable bags. From now on if a customer wants a bag, he/she will have to be sold a paper bag for ten cents. I don't know how those paper bags will look like, I assume it will be like those that are handed out at the organic supermarkets like Trader Joes.

Only five percent of plastic bags are recycled. Isn't that something. It's believable. Everybody wants convenience.

For the past month and a half I have made it a mission to not buy anything that I will throw away. When I wait for the bus to go home I sometimes would buy some yogurt from a yogurt place.They have those huge thick containers. I had always been conscious of the trash, but I would think: I don't buy often. Then one day (I got off pretty late) I saw the trash bin in the corner at the bus stop and it was full. It was actually overflowing. While people wait for the bus they eat or drink something. The trash bin had napkins, wraps, cups, lids, etc. from fast food restaurant, coffee place, and yogurt place (the three nearest to the bus stop). With just those three places the trash bins were overflowing in a single day. There are actually two trash bins. One is right at the corner where you wait to cross the street, and the other was right by the bus stop (which is only about ten meters from the corner). Anyway, that was when I decided no more, even if I only would buy a couple of times a week, I was contributing to that trash. I felt awful.

Now, I don't buy my coffee from any place unless I have my coffee cup (with the lid). Guess what, I am charged sixty cents less at the place I buy it at because I have my own cup. So I save money too. I don't buy yogurt anymore. Besides leaving trash it is too expensive. When I pack my lunch I don't use the plastic bags with the zipper thing. I use my own reusable containers. When I pack snacks for my son, I also use tiny containers, even if it means creating more bulk (which it does).  I can't believe I just started doing this. I feel a little embarrassed because there are people who do more!

My son is going to wake up in a few minutes. I guess I will be back tomorrow. I hope I have something more interesting or creative to share. For now just writing is good for me.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Sad, but not Awful... and Updates

I said I was going to write in here every other day, and I haven't kept my word. I should have to write tonight, tomorrow, and Friday to catch up. All this week I have been feeling so tired. I think it has to do with dreams. Every single time I dream I wake up tired like if I had no sleep at all. It is a little annoying. Three days of dreaming is exhausting.

For about a month now I have been going for three-mile fast walk two times a week. Today was one of those times. I usually go with my dad or my sister. My dad usually walks fast, at my pace, but he has been having trouble with one of his legs so he has slowed down a bit. My sister is in such bad shape, poor thing. But she is a trooper, she'll go with me on walks and keeps up! Though I will admit that I will slow down my pace at certain points for her. Today I went by myself and it was very good, I even broke a heavy sweat. Besides those walks I go on, I still walk a lot. I walk to the supermarket, the library, the bank... not that these places aren't close, because they are, but whenever I go I walk fast and I have my son on the stroller and books or groceries. I walk and push, which is some exercise in itself. So now I have realized that I do exercise, that makes me feel good. I enjoy being tired because of physical exhaustion, muscle I mean... rather than mental exhaustion which is what I think I've been feeling these past three days.

Things between my son's dad and I haven't been very well... I wish we could have everything in good terms, but we think so differently I don't even know how we were together for five and a half years. I guess the experiences we had together unfortunately made us grow apart instead of making us go in the same direction. At first I would feel so guilty and horrible and would feel like it was my fault for letting things to as far as they did. Now, I probably do feel a little at fault but the feeling is not as intense as it was then. Yes, I did let things get as far as they did, but I am also glad that I left before they got worse (because I am sure they would have).

I also know that you cannot change a person's thoughts, personality, or characteristics no matter how much you wish it, or how much the other says he will. Sometimes you will never make the person understand your point of view and you know what? That's okay, too bad, but okay. It would be easier to do things, but it is what it is, or he is who he is, and that's fine. I know he loves his son, I'm sure now he regrets a lot of things he did. But, I don't really see true regrets. I see regrets of having cause someone to leave him all alone. Which is something, but what I think it should be is feeling awful for having caused so much pain, feeling awful for humiliating and taking advantage of someone who loved him, for destroying a relationship with someone who was able to stand so much and was able to give so many chances. That is sad. Just thinking about it makes me feel sad, but not awful. Not anymore. I feel good now.

I do feel a tinge of guilt at having given my son the dad he has. But at least his dad loves him and wants to see him. That I am glad of. No matter how much we disagree when it comes to our little one I know that the reasons behind what he wants when it comes to his son is because of his love for him. Too bad we can't come to an agreement. I think we may have to have the court decide for us.

Aw, what a post huh. Haha... I can't believe I feel this good. I need to keep it in check and make sure I keep feeling like this.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Getting Ready for Nap Time

After lunch, the children have two options: they can read or "write" in their journals. Then, after all the morning children have left, each teacher gets a group of three children to read to. We read three books (they are usually short ones, and if they are not we shorten it). My group consists of three boys. Two of them don't sleep, and those two are the ones who are usually very active and energetic. Sometimes during outside play we make them run around in circles and chase each other, or chase us, or sometimes they just like to run. You'd think this would drain their energy and have them worn out by the time it is time to nap, but no.

All three of them fight to sit in the middle (in between my legs). It's the best seat because they can see everything in the book. So, we decided to take turns. Whose ever book I'm reading gets to get the middle seat, and when we change book then the middle person changes too. Everybody is happy now, good.

There is a younger boy who is about two and a half and naps at school only on Wednesday. My goodness does he suck his finger. I had him in between my legs for one of the readings, he likes to lean on his elbow (the one with the thumb he sucks on) on my thigh and suck his thumb at the same time. Sometimes it's very quiet, and I am reading in a low voice to not disturb the others and I can hear the sound he makes. It's not a sucking noise, I'm not sure how to describe it. It could be like a coo, but without opening his mouth. It sounds like he is munching on his thumb and expressesing how good it is by cooing. Kind of. I'm having trouble describing the sound he makes. Anyway, that time it felt like he left almost a puddle of drool on my jeans. My jeans were soaked. I could see a giant circle of drool on my thigh with a diameter of two and a half inches. That was a lot of drool! I wasn't disgusted by it, but I felt a little annoyed at feeling the wetness of the drool on my thigh.

After I read to them they each go to their cot. I stay with the two boys that don't sleep and try to keep them quiet so the others can sleep. The first times were very difficult! Especially with one of them who is very defiant and likes to do the opposite of what you want him to do. He likes to be in control, and doesn't like anybody to tell him what to do. You tell him he's going to wake up the kids if he's loud, and he'll scream at the top of his lungs. He gets up from his cot repeatedly and that can get very frustrating. I cannot simply tell him to return to his cot because he will not go, I have to literally take him to his cot. Several times he slapped me, kicked me, and pulled my hair. Several times I've held him down and told him I will not allow him to hurt me. One time he said "what you are doing is not nice." "What am I doing?" I asked him. "You are holding my arms." I wanted to laugh in his face, but I didn't because he wouldn't have understood my laughter anyway. I simply said. "You are hitting me. Is that nice?" He said nothing. This boy is something. There is lots to say about him.

Something cute. I was reading a book to the same boy from above (D) and the other boy who doesn't sleep (A). When I finished they wanted me to show them the picture of the man who wrote it. I did and D said "He looks like a grandpa!" They both laughed.

"Maybe he is" I said.

"What does it say there?" A said pointing to the writing under the picture of the author. "Does it say if he is a grandpa?"

I read it, and it didn't say. "But," I said "it doesn't have to say, maybe he is a grandpa. There are other writers who are mothers, fathers, and granpas."

"What?!" A was in disbelief.

"Yes. They write and they read it to their kids or their kid's kids."

"Kids have kids?" Asked D. His eyes seemed pensive. He seemed to be taking it in and for a second he seemed to have believed that he could have a kid now.

"Well, when kids grow up, they have kids, and then their kids grow up and they have kids."

"No," said D. "I'm going to college."

"Well, some people go to college, and then later they have kids."

Then, I had to close the curtains and turn on the nap music. When I returned D said "you are too small to go to college" to me. I smiled. It's funny how they associate being tall with being grown up.

"Well," I said. "I already went to college."

"You went to college?" D pointed at me.


"Noooo. No you didn't"

"Yes, I did."

"Then, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I went to college then I came here."

He thought for a second. "I'm going to stay in college forever."

Then, A said "Karina, I'm going to go to college."

"Good!" I said. "I'm glad you both are going to college. But that is not for a few years."

"Then A said. "Karina, what is a college?"

I smiled and told him I will tell him later because everybody was trying to sleep, and they both needed to rest too.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

The Handsome Guy's Kiss

The guy on the bus who was sitting next to me was sort of nodding off. I could hear his deep breathing. At first I thought he had some sort of breathing problem because I have never heard anyone breath that deep. I casually glanced at him to see if he was overweight because, I don't know am I being stereotypical? Most overweight people seem to have breathing problems, so I just thought maybe he was overweight. I don't know why it matters, I don't know why I was thinking that or why I had to know, but I was, and I had to.

He was light skinned, clean shaven, and had a somewhat untamed hair. He was also wearing sunglasses (the kind that you can see-through). He was not overweight. He had a rectangular face with a straight nose rounded just right at the tip, and his lips were thin but well-defined that curved up at the edges, which made it seem like he was smiling. Yikes, he was pretty handsome. I was also able to see that his eyes were closed.

When the bus turned he stirred and lifted his head up. He saw that someone was sitting next to him and he tried to sit up and not take up as much space as his body needed. His long legs though had to open a bit and enter my "bubble". Which happens a lot with tall guys. They either have to sit at an angle or open their legs up a bit. That is usually okay with me as long as the guy is aware of this and is not being too intrusive. I'm pretty small so I don't take up much space. I remember there was a this one guy who was too much inside my bubble (I say "bubble" because I've gotten use to using this word with the preschoolers. "Stay in your bubble", "Don't enter your friends' bubble", etc.). I felt so uncomfortable. We were not even sitting on the paired seats, we were sitting on the sides so there was plenty of leg room. I felt even smaller sitting next to the guy who did not have to slouch, did not have to put his arm around the back of my seat, and did not have to practically entrap me with his leg. I had to say "excuse me" to him in order to be able to get up, which I shouldn't have to when I am sitting on the side seats because there is nothing blocking me from getting up, but when he sat there his leg was blocking me. His leg! ONE leg. I never thought that was possible. Just thinking about that gives me the creeps.

Anyway, I don't remember the point of this... actually, I think there was no point. It was just what stood out today. This handsome guy, courteous guy, whose deep breaths caught my attention. His breath had a distinctive smell of smoke. He had smoked pot I was sure. Having tried it before, and having been with someone who use to smoke a lot, I was able to detect it. Every time one exhales through the nostrils it sends out a smokey sweet smell. Also, when he "woke up" he had cotton mouth. I glanced at him again and I was able to tell that his lips lacked moisture. He opened and closed his mouth like if he was tasting something and I could hear every time his dry tongue would peel off the top of his mouth.

I thought about how his lips would feel if I were to kiss him then. I thought about how my lips would feel if I were to place them against his, not hard, just barely touch the surface. Would they stick and then peel off when I'd remove them? Would it seem like I was removing a dried layer of white glue from my skin? Perhaps it would tickle too and make me want to do it again just to feel the soft sensation of removing it, right before the urge to scratch it comes.

Then, he got off the bus.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Don't Cry

I have been listening to a lot of Bob Marley lately. I know that Bob Marley was an activist and his music was politically influenced, but when I listen to him it has more than political connotations (I will also admit that when it comes to politics I know VERY little of it). The video that I cannot stop watching and listening to is to his live 1979 performance of "No Woman No Cry". According to Google translate "embobada" means "spellbound". Heh. I guess I am spellbound then by this particular video/song. I can't just listen to the song I have to watch the video. I'm not exactly sure how I feel, but it's like he is telling me, ME, to not cry. He genuinely means it when he tells me not to cry.

This is the video I'm talking about:

My writing has been deteriorating and I hope that I can bring myself to write at least every other day even if the posts are this short or about nothing really. I just need to write.

Friday, June 3, 2011

My dad's mother

My dad has been very sad and might even say close to depressed since we found out his mom died. He went to see her (and the rest of the family) last year after not having gone like ten years. He found out she was sick and was worried but not much more than usual because something was always up with her. Then she called him and told him that she went to the hospital and had to stay for three days and the doctors were unable to figure out what was wrong with her. She couldn't eat because nothing stayed down there. She would vomit and she had excessive diarrhea. My dad then became very worried. He called a couple of days later and she was unable to talk. Then called again the next day and she seemed able to talk.

I'm actually having some trouble writing this. I'm saddened by her death not because of her but because of what my dad is feeling. He cried when he told me. I cried a little with him (had I known my grandmother I'm sure I would have cried a lot more and felt it more). My eyes right now are a little watery just thinking of what my dad is going through, thinking of my inability to console him. I don't know what to tell him. I just listen to him tell me how he has trouble believing it. He feels horrible for not having gone right away when he had the feeling that she was near death (he really did know, he told me about a week before she died that he was sure she was going to die). He also confessed to me that he didn't want to go because he didn't want to see her sick, to see her suffering, to see her die. He is glad that she is not suffering anymore. She was a good person (I know, they all are), she had people coming to her funeral from all over the country. My father is in awed; he didn't know that so many people knew her. She took care of everybody's children, by taking care I mean raising them. Everybody loved her (from what I know). I know all this sounds cliche but I don't know how else to say what I know about her.

She made me a bag. She knitted it. It's red, with a few flowers in there. I love that bag. I use it to carry my lunch and book and stuff almost every day.

That is it for now.

Monday, May 30, 2011

So, I wasn't sure whether to post something or not, but then I remembered why I decided to finally get this laptop: to write. Though I am going to be honest and say that I have no idea what to write about. I am just sitting here thinking, and wondering whether I should just write about my day? Sometimes during the day I have something that I am feeling and want to write but I don't have the time to sit and write. I make a mental note but those notes sometimes get erased and when I get to a computer or to a notebook I forget.

Now I am thinking about lots of things that I would like to talk/write about. I have to wake up early tomorrow for work, and its a little late, so instead of making a mental note, I will make the note here:
chatting, grandmother, son's quirks..... oh I guess its only three...

I should sleep. I hope next time I will write about the above things I have in mind.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

I'm posting this from my new laptop. Finally. =) I hope to be posting more often, at least once a week.
Today I don't feel up for posting anything, but just to say that I finally got my top.

Alright then. Good night.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

My laptop. Oh, and that salesguy

Yes, I finally bought my laptop... a cheap one. Unfortunately the one that I wanted wasn't in stock, so I had to order it. That means I won't get it till next Saturday. But that's okay. I bought it. I was debating whether or not to get their geek squad 1 year warranty. I don't have much cash and want to save. It seemed really good but I don't have much money to spend, so I will have to do without it. Yikes.

The salesguy really wanted me to get it. He kept telling me to "think about it". It really bothers me when people keep insisting and insisting, especially salespeople. Though I'd like to think he wanted to look out for me.

Oh, and it was 6pm when he started to ring me up. At 6:02 he said that the end didn't come and if it did then he would have been glad to have spent it with me. Right. That really bothered me, especially the way he said it.

I think I dislike salespeople.

Friday, May 20, 2011

I have too many blogs... old blogs. This is the current one and I haven't been writing. I was looking at an old xanaga blog I use to have. Wow, my writing then was not too bad actually... I saw some poetry I had forgotten about. I read them and thought "wow, I wrote that?" It's funny because I always liked to write and read poetry, simple poems, but what I really tried for was fiction writing. I tried to write but they never came out as well as my poems did. Then, after my son was born my poetry writing seemed to have gone south. I was unable to write. I did not try to write fiction but the narrative poems that I did write were better than the others. Then, the first story that I wrote (which sprung from one of my narrative poem) was unbelievably better than all the rest of the stories I had written prior to that one. The rest of the stories that came after that one were just as good. Of course I had to clean them up a bit, and still have to clean up now, but they were good.

Now, what happened? I had priorities, and troubles that would cloud my mind too much. Then, I became a single mother and had other priorities and troubles, and it was a whole emotional turmoil. Then, I started again, and I began by starting to clean up a few pieces, and just as I was starting (the second day), my computer shut down (literally) and didn't want to turn on. Oh was I upset! For days I went from being upset, to sad, to just letting it go. But after reading my old xanga blog, it seemed to have revived something in me, and just letting go will not do. No. This weekend I will buy my laptop- the one I've been saying i will be buying since last year.

ps. a poem I wrote in that xanga blog just made me realize how much I was affected by that guy who tried to sexually assault me. I didn't think I was that bad, but wow, that poem like really portrayed what I know I was feeling then. Not sure how I feel now to be honest, still have some issues but like I said, not sure.

okay thats it


Either of the two times in the year, the summer solstice and the winter solstice, when the sun reaches its highest point or its lowest point in the sky at noon, marked by the longest and shorterst day.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

bunch of scattered thoughts

Help me have or to gather up the strenth that I need to be able to provide my child the needs he needs in order to develop appropriately to be in good not just physical health but emotionally and mentally healthy. I do not want him to be like me. I want him to be able to cope with many things the way I was not able to. I want to give him as much love as I can and as he needs.

Right now I feel like crying because I feel so emotionally unstable. I feel unloveable. I feel awful for being selfish. I do feel so selfish sometimes. I have not done anything to help those people in need. I haven't done a lot to try to get my son into a preschool. What is my problem? There are so many people that don't let any obstacle get in their way of accomplishing what they want, and need, to accomplish.

I am a single mother, that's been established. So what, I have my father who is always 100% with me in the decisions that I decide to make and have made. He is the number one source of support. I only have a part-time job. So what, there are people out there with more than one kid who wish they had a part-time job.

What I need is time management and the ability to follow through with my agenda. Whether I stay up a little late or not shouldn't matter at this time (as long as I get SOME sleep). I feel like a failure. I am twenty five years old and feel like I've done nothing and wasted time. What kind of mother does that make me?

I need more focus. I need a tatoo on my hand that will both remind me and inspire me to not stop. But, I have my son, shouldn't that be enough?

I am so afraid of being a mother. Being a mother is very freightening to me. I am the one responsible for a little one's well being. I am the one responsible for the kind of person my child will become (to a certain extent of course). The reason I've decided to take classes in child development is because of my son. The only reason.
I guess I am not sorry for the things or people I grew up with because that is the reason why I am who I am. However, I also dislike myself in so many ways. I wish that I knew how to deal with my emotions. I wish that I knew how to communicate better. These two, I believe, are the key in being able to not just be socially competent, but happy.

I am still having trouble figuring out why we want to be here. why do we really want to live? What is the meaning of life, my life? That will keep changing as time goes on because of experiences and situations. Why don't we want to die? Why do we want to keep suffering? Why do we want to put ourselves in a world where it seems to be getting stressful, and unsafe, and more difficult to live? I mean, I understand that we don't want species to become extinct, and we do what we can for them to continue. I am having trouble understanding why we do this. We do want to study them, we do want to learn about them, we do want to learn the way other species function, and live. I guess that is why we don't want to become extinct? So we can be studied by "others" later? Or perhaps to see how far we can go.

I am perfectly okay with the idea of dying. I do not want to live forever, I want to die eventually. I don't want to die now ( I have my son and I do not want him to be left with anybody I know or don't know. I only trust myself with him). .. you know, maybe I am not so willing to risk anything. Perhaps that is something i dislike about myself a lot. I think the reason why I don't or am not really willing to take risks is because I am so afraid of being hurt. I don't know how I can convey how much I am afraid. I'm afraid of failing, I'm afraid of hurting poeple, I'm afraid of disapointing, Im afraid of the world? I don't want to be afraid. I want to at least be able to deal with these fears that I have. How do you deal with them? I'll never amount to anything for my son if I don't do something about this.

I wish I can talk to people or become reacquainted with people but I feel like I am a burden to them. Maybe I'm bothering them. I am a very quiet person and because of that some people would just push me aside. There had been a few people who never did that but I was afraid, or am afriad, of it happening that I don't allow myself to become attached. I am quiet, and I do sometimes have a bad memory, but for the most part I am a sweet person who is a good listener, especially when it counts. (I'm going by what people have told me).

I want to say "I blame my mother" but I won't. I am a grown woman and because I am conscious of what she has done then I should be capable to change these ways of mine. But how do you undo years of damage? years of thinking this is normal, thinking that I am alone?

Also, how do you help a person (who by the way, I am terribly afraid of becoming like) if she doesn't want to be helped? Perhaps I just need to get away from things/people like that. I do dislike her so much, and I feel completely guilty about that, I hate myself for not liking, or loving her, the way other people do their own. How can you resolve issues between the two when one is unwilling to confront them? Mother earth, help me.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Here I go again- In general

Sometimes I wish I didn't care about the things I care about, and care about the things I don't care about. I feel like maybe things would be easier that way. I wish I cared about certain people as much as I should (wish I could love then as much as I should).

There are a few things that make me think that I have PTSD, perhaps I am psychologically troubled, no wait maybe not psychologically but emotionally troubled. Today I felt so awful. I don't want to be complaining. To be honest with you I don't know if it would be complaining or not. There are other things that aren't exactly complaining but just something that needs to be talked about. It is different when you want to talk about it and get it off your chest from complaining. Sometimes people say things just because they want to talk about it and it often times makes one feel better, and some people mistake it for complains. I do that sometimes. But it is completely different.

I think that when you complain it is usually about something that could be fixed but isn't whether it'd be because of lazyness or lack of communication, or whatever. Who knows. But when you talk about things it's to talk about what is and what really can't be changed or would be extremely difficult to change. I don't know.

PTSD could be a realy intense thing and some people can get it because of something that others would consider miniscule. I dislike so much when people say "get over" over something that someone is intensely troubled by. People are different. There are some people who are very resilient and can brush people, or situations, off while there are others who are not resilient at all and can get traumatized by it. Who is to say something is not traumatizing?

These ups and down moods are so upsetting, and what is even more upsetting is that when I know I'm in a down mood I can't do anything about it and it frustrates me. It frustrates me so much that I just drop everything. I seriously don't know what to do when I get like this, I am filled with anger towards myself for not being able to bring myself up, for not being able to "get over" it. I am so impatient with it. I am filled with guilt because I have my son. I always try to put on a happy face for him (and it's so hard, I don't know if I portray myself to be in a good mood or not) but internally I am panicking and at the same time filled with hopelessness.

Most of the time when I am feeling like this I am extra sensitive (I'm already a sensitive person). I wish I wasn't because then I wouldn't let the words or actions from the people that love me (or claim to love me) hurt as much as it does. I wouldn't be afraid of letting them know how I feel. If I wasn't so sensitive I wouldn't let even the lady who drives the bus bring me to tears with a single word.

I feel very frustrated, upset, sad, and guilty. My pole is standing firmly in place, or at least it had been for the past few months, but lately it seems to be swaying like a rubber pole being shaken by an invisible hand.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Sex and Violence and Children

I watched a snippet on the news (no more than five seconds) when I was flipping through the channels and you know what I heard? Second graders were caught doing/performing sexual activities. How horrible is that!? Little seven year olds doing grown up things in a not so grown up way. Seven year olds!

I literally made a face, I felt like I was hurt by a close family member. I felt I had done something wrong for having cause this close family member hurt me in an indirect way, in a way that he/she didn't mean too, but did nontheless. I felt horrible for giving birth to my son who will have to grow up in this media oriented, violent, sexualized society where girls feel they have to grow up and keep up with the rest of the girls, where boys feel they have to be "tough" and violent while withholding their feelings and emotions in order to be considered a man.

I'm sure my generation has grown up like this, or close to it. I mean, it wasn't untill 1984 when the FCC stopped regulating what children watched on television, and it wasn't until this time when things began to go downhill. They decided it was okay to let corporations market towards children to make more money. "Yeah, go ahead, turn children against their parents, make them think they know nothing about what they need." They might as well have said that.

Sure, it was just single-purposed toys linked to cartoons like Care Bears, Transformers, etc. Then what? Lunch boxes, cereal boxes, sugary treats. And then? Corporations decided to market pg-13 movies to children under 7. Spiderman is a pg-13 movie, the Green Hornet is a pg-13 movie, why are they giving out toys at mcdonald's for these movies? Don't tell me 13 year olds want a happy meal. Don't tell me 15 year olds want a lunch box with spiderman on it (well, maybe to collect but that's not my point). Eventually the under seven year olds want to see this pg-13 movie and will be exposed to violence and sex. Five year olds as well and they are still at that stage where they can not distingish the difference between reality and pretend. They really don't. My son is three and when he sees people arguing on tv he yells at them and tells them to be quiet. Seriously all this exposure to violence and sex is making children grow up to be indifference to violence and sex. Taking six year olds to see violence and sex is like letting them stick around and watch a man kill a man with repeated knife thurst, or letting them watch a couple of strangers have sex. Would you expose your child to that in real life? Your five year old child? It's the same thing because they are at that stage.

I would never tell parents what to do, no way. I dislike people tell me what to do as a parent. I simply would like to point out something that I do feel is important for parents to know. I really do. I'm glad I know this, I'm glad I've done some research on this, and if some parents don't agree with me that's fine. We all have our ways and our top priorities when it comes to our child.

I typed everyting so fast. I'm in the library and will be booted off in exactly 40 seconds!

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Books are exciting

I went back to my ex.

Juuuust kidding. I went back to his place to pick up some stuff that I left, and still need to get some more stuff but not much left.  I got my books!

I swear to mother earth that when I saw these books I could have had sex with my ex if he was there. Okay, so I really wouldn't. I just want to make a point: I was excited to find these books, they are mine... I got the feeling I get when I walk into a bookstore, or a library, but even more excited because they are already mine.

I love walking into a bookstore and I love the smell of new books. I love running my fingers through the bindings, reading the summary in the back of the books, reading the short bio of the author of the book, and then maybe reading a few pages or a chapter.  Then flipping through the pages and inhaling the smell of the pages as they fan me, and finally the purchase.

I love walking into a library and doing the same as the above minus the purchase and maybe minus the fanning. Some of those books have a very distinctive smell; the smell of the previous reader who seemed to have enjoyed the book so much that he or she had to repeatedly borrow it, or renew it. I'm sure there was the occasional "oh I forgot I borrowed that book, let me renew it again", or perhaps the person who borrowed it just had a really really strong scent that penetrated into the pages of the book.

Whatever, I really like books, even if I don't read them I just like them, I like the look of them, the feel of them, and the way they make me feel: excited.  I really don't know why-- besides the inner journey it takes me in-- I like to have them (or not even own, but just physically have them) perhaps its just the anticipation of reading it.

Okay, enough of that. I have neglected my blog, and that makes me feel sad. I don't know whether I've mentioned this in other posts or not but my laptop is not working (go figure), and I am taking some classes which begin on the 29th of this month so I need to hurry up and get it fixed. I have some money now, it's just that since school isn't in session yet I have put other things as priority, but now that it is starting in about a week, I need to take it in.

I am taking child development classes, should be fun. Last semester I didn't do well in neither of my classes (2), so I will have to retake them as well as an additional one. I am so nervous about these classes though because it will determine whether I will be able to move up to my next child development permit, and after a couple of months (150 hours) or maybe less if I get full time, I can finally get my teaching permit. So, we'll see...  

Still, writing is going to be there. I HAVE to keep this blog up so that I can continue with writing, and to keep sane as i've said before... I feel unusually happy today, maybe its the coffee (I've cut back a lot on coffee and i just had a strong one, which I probably shouldn't have).

Good night.