Blogging Round 2, Life, Thoughts

I Miss Jack Johnson

ITS BEEN A YEARRR since Eva and I did Warm a Cold Shoulder, our successful winter clothing drive for the homeless.  I can’t believe that a year has since passed and I’ve barely done a charitable thing since except for donate blood.  What has happened to meee??

It makes me consider the past year.  So much has happened, I’ve accomplished so much.  At this time last year I scarcely thought I would get into USF for Spring Semester.  I felt a yearning to be something more, and I made it happen.  Here I am; I got in to USF, I got an internship with the de Young Museum, I dated and dumped the asshole guy I adored forever (older readers will remember Salami Love) I spent the summer in New York City, I made friends all over the world, I helped put on a special exhibition at the Thacher Gallery, and I got a job working at another gallery….  Oh yeah, and I watched my hair grow.

Watching my hair grow is like cultivating my life. 1)  It takes feels like it takes FOREVER to cultivate, but then you realize the time zoomed by   2) It’s never long enough, it’s never good enough  3) I can’t seem to appreciate it in the moment and I’m always looking forward to the future (“I hate my hair now, but it will look good SOMEDAY it just needs a few inches” [I was saying this same thing 2 years ago.])  4)  The quality of it depends on little decisions you make every day.  For hair: food, water, exercise, sleep.  For life: food, water, exercise, sleep…. attitude, compassion, motivation…

In the midst of it, how can you be sure your decisions will lead to what you actually want in life?  How can you be sure that you won’t hate long hair and end up cutting it, despite the discipline it took to get there…  I guess in life, quite often we find ourselves right back where we left off.  The important thing, perhaps, is venturing out despite that possibility.  When you end up right back where you left off, you’re aren’t who you were the last time you were there.

So I’ll watch my hair grow another year, perhaps 2 years, and if I don’t end up liking it, I’ll chop it and know it wasn’t all just a waste of time.

Besos mi amores, xoxo.

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Friends, Life, Nineteen, Thoughts, Women

“A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman’s birthday but never remembers her age.” -Robert Frost

I LOVE being a woman. I take huge pride in my place in the world as a female, and also enormous pride in my fellow fabulous females.  (Yes, this is a post-modern feminist diatribe.) I believe that any man who does not understand that the world does not turn without PMS is sadly forgetting or lacking something.  

My menstrual cycle is what makes me feel like a woman, it is the reason I have breasts, and it is why I have a no-longer-denied, innate desire to nurture.  It also means that I am not pregnant, which is good at this point in my life.  I also love my period because it tells me “hey, you can have little babies if you want to.”  Someday… someday (read: not now) I want babies.  

For now, my friends and I (who are in our physiological prime to procreate) can gush over babies in strollers at Starbucks, and talk about eventual motherhood while walking past a display of itty-bitty baby Vans in a window of a children’s clothing store.  Any male who is grossed out by the idea of a females monthly cycle needs to grow up…  This is how I feel.  Guys don’t experience it, they don’t need to see it, but the reap all the benefits from this monthly phenomenon… how lucky for them! So guys? Do not fear it, appreciate it as it should be.

 

I do not generally demand or expect sensitivity from males during that time of the month or any other time, for that matter.  For the most part, expecting sensitivity will most always leave you feeling let down.  BUT.  But, there are times when sensitivity and support from a male counterpart is necessary and expected.  This is why:

I work very hard to understand the inner workings of the male mind.  Contrary to popular female belief, their minds are not simple and they are not impossible.  Their thought process is best defined as straight forward. In order to communicate with most “man’s man” types it is important to spell it out to them.  They cannot read your mind, and they won’t know what you expect or want or are upset about if you don’t inform them–with some exceptions.  Exceptions? Yes. 

These exceptions are hard-earned because I stick my neck out to communicate effectively with the opposite sex….  I am easy to understand, flexible, understanding, cool, fun, I aim to please, and I’m not a jealous person.  What I’m saying is that I strive to be these things to make living on this planet with these amazing men more enjoyable.  In return for my efforts I expect to be met halfway.    Am I asking too much for boys to learn some sensitivity? Some thoughtfulness and manners? Learn how to cuddle, how to surprise us, and learn what is important to us.  After you learn what is important to us (it is different for every girl) you can help yourself by supporting us in those things.  

What is important to me?  My family, my best friends, my health, my sense of strength and independence, my constitutional rights, and my femininity.

This is me spelling it out.  It’s as simple as it gets.  Learn to have compassion for me about these things, or I will lose interest.

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Adventures, Music, Nineteen, Smile, Thoughts, Wine

Uh-oh

Even though I had no more than four hours of sleep yesterday night, I still had trouble sleeping tonight and here I am at 5:45 in the morning.  I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach, like the kind of excitement you get when you wake up early to drive to the airport, only I felt it all day yesterday.  It’s like wanting to jump on a trampoline to shout exclamations at the top of your lungs “!!!!!” or like taking the most amazing, sunny outdoor shower on a warm summer morning with the smell of breakfast in the air.

Please, no one cure me.

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Barack Obama, Change, Joe Biden, John McCain, politics, President, Sarah Palin, Thoughts, Vice President

McCain versus Obama

I realize that day dreams of Utopian governments is an afternoon waisted, but there is method to my madness.  I promise.

I was in class today when an idea occurred to me.  This is a thought in progress, bare with me.

Could it be that while personal beliefs diversify American politics, they also cloud it?

Take this idea to both extremes (I’m going to say extreme Christians and extreme environmentalists.)  It seems that their ideologies convolute and obstruct proper/progressive decision making and governing because their zone of focus is too narrow.  Their minds are like microscopes; they only see what they want to see, way too closely.  Considerate, realistic ideas are absent because they don’t mind the Constitution or the principles of the founding fathers when making a decision.  They mind a separate set of values that don’t include the whole spectrum of diversity that is the United States of America.  While the Constitution still has ratifications and should be considered somewhat of a ‘work in progress’ (rightly so, or else we would still have slavery and other such abominable ideas…) it should be the only document or work in mind when making a regulatory decision.

Just as we conduct ourselves differently at work then we do at home (i.e.–it is generally disrespectful and annoying to speak of political opinion, religious belief or finances in a professional setting)  we must conduct our government in a similar way, with respect to logic, justice, and righteousness far removed from personal beliefs or influence from religion or doctrine.  Allow them all to exist, but in different settings.  There is a time and a place for everything.

That said, I realize that this is impossible.  Humans will be humans, and we are characterized as such by having personal bias, opinions, judgements etc.  But when I’m considering a Commander in Chief, I am looking for someone who can best pull their eye from the scope to look up and see the big picture of things;  the true shape and state of the world.  Who can make a clear, level-headed, unbias, respectable, informed, non-partisan decision?  You tell me!

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beer, Friends, love, Parties, Thoughts

As You Get Older, History Matters

Who watched the Liddell v. Evans fight last night?  Chuck Liddell lives in San Luis Obispo and we all got some beers to watch our boy win… the fight was over pretty quick.  Poor guy, here’s the KO clip:

Apparently Chuck likes young girls… I also heard he drives a yellow Lamborghini and frequents Firestone Grill.

Today I woke up in a really cozy bed and had a great morning.  I accidentally spent $1.50 for yesterdays paper…. so lame!  I was bummed, but here’s two things that made my day: 

1.  While stopped at a light driving to breakfast today I looked to the van next to me, which had a poorly homemade local mayor campaign poster taped to the window.  There was a picture of a dorky looking man wearing a blue checked shirt.  I giggle to myself and then looked to see the driver of the van, when all I could see was the sleeve of the VERY SAME BLUE CHECKED SHIRT RESTING ON THE WINDOW SILL OF THE CAR.  Yes, it was the dorky man, driving a dorky van, wearing what is clearly his very favorite shirt.  I laughed for a long time.

2.  I got this random e-mail today, hope Gerry doesn’t mind if I share.  It’s so kind:

“Hi Fresh,
 My daughter is 15. Respect from a 51 yr old male in London, UK.  My gut feeling is that you are on the right track life wises…
Hey, I had my day.. Stowedaway on a ship to Japan back in 78. As you get older history matters…
have a good life
 
Gerry”

 

You have a good life too, Gerry.  Thanks for that.

 

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Friends, Nineteen, politics, Thoughts

Bitch Republicans Use Fact Repellent.

I don’t tolerate elitist, uninformed, narrow-minded, fact-repellent-wearing republicans.  I shoot them, point-blank, repeatedly in the chest using my fact-sponge of a brain that pumps 68 caliber words, splattering orange-red paint across their shoulders and chest.  They lower their chin and watch the paint collide with their body as this humiliating event renders them victim to my blatant message… and when they lift their heads after I’m through, the void in which their chin once hung creates an indentation, transforming the paint across their chests into a shape curiously similar to that of a heart.  Oh, the irony…

 

First of all, I need to go to the doctor, and everyone needs to bug me until I get to the doctor. I’ve been procrastinating it for over a year and I still have a very irregular, almost non-existent period and it’s just not normal or healthy. I need to get to the doctor on my own. I understand that for me, taking care of myself in certain ways like this will mark my maturity.  So i’m going to do it…  but just incase I don’t… make sure that I do within the next month. OK–so that clears that.

On a similar note, I found this word and I like it: 

con·cu·pis·cent

Enough about that.

 

I’m going to San Francisco tomorrow evening for my girls’ B-day partaaaay!  CAN’T WAIT!  I have to be careful, my alcohol tolerance is dangerously low lately.  Which cannot result in/have anything even remotely to do with the word con·cu·pis·cent, tomorrow night or ever.

 

Ps–I love McKenna!

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Friends, love, Thoughts

So I Guess I’m Still A Little Girl.

Found these of me on my Dad's computer...

Found these of me on my Dad's computer...

 

)

I even kept journals back then 🙂

Yes, it's true.

Yes, it's true.

 

McKenna just called me and I broke down into tears even before I answered the phone.  I remember feeling the same way in elementary school when my mom picked me up after I’d had a rough day of cooties and tattle-tails; as soon as I’d see the comfort of her car my lip would quiver, my eyeballs ready to burst with tears.

Now I don’t feel that way when I see my mom, or my home… I don’t know why things like that are no longer really my source for comfort.  My friends are.  Seeing the comfort of their name calling me, especially when I’m feeling vulnerable, trying as hard as I can to be strong–I want nothing more than to hear their voice and hang out with them and laugh.  They make me feel so happy.

Anyway, I just had a good, short little cry over the phone with McKenna and I feel a lot better (although I’m still holding a q-tip in my hand to absorb the tears before they fill the brim of my eyes beyond capacity, messing up my mascara.)

I got a haircut… my hairs cut…  I leave for Camp tomorrow evening… I don’t have an appetite, I don’t feel like eating and I can’t wait to see my grandma.

I’m worried about my friend Wayne… he went to Japan at the beginning of the summer and was supposed to come home last week but no one’s heard from him.  We don’t know where he is… last I heard from him, he was going to bike 130 km from Masuda over the mountains to Hiroshima.  He was going to leave in a few days as of July 6th and the last time he logged into his Myspace was on the 8th.  I don’t know any more than that but I hope I hope I hope he’s okay.  Please, please.  Please.

I feel better after writing.  Home is so petty and trivial, I wish it didn’t have the power to stir me up like this…. now I’m going to go get a manicure and read the newspaper.  Tata, darlings.

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