I think bad things happen quickly. Crashes, gunshots, even cancer cells overtake the common cell too fast for it to fight back.

Good things happen slowly. Babies have to simmer on low heat for nine months. Graduation comes only after years of hard work. Relationships of all sorts take years to develop.

That's just what I think. What do you?

Water has a strange, still movement. It stays in the same general area yet moves constantly.

Just like living creatures.

Although we are still and contained in meaty, bony, scaly shells, we are in constant motion inside.

This baby made my day

I'm gonna try not to download my insecurities on to other people. Especially if they're prone to worry.

It seems irresponsible to me. Not everyone can just listen without internalizing, so I don't want to add to whatever stress I know they're already going through.

Patrick is the obvious exception.

Everyone else, though, isn't as solid in their personal development. I don't mean people that can't handle the intensity of the insecurity I sometimes face, just the ones that may be affected by what I say and perhaps begin to worry themselves.

Or maybe I'm just worried that no one can handle my brain. That secretly I'm too much to handle. I suppose leftovers from past relationships have made me careful about who I share what with.

Either way, I'm gonna keep some things between specific people in my life.

Change

Always something forced upon us.

Who chooses adulthood, hormones?

Who has a say in whether or not we exist in the first place? 

Change is forced upon us, and we all just have to adapt and be optimistic about whatever the future holds.

Life is an adventure! It took me until just now to realize that. I have to have some heart-pounding experiences and some serious fun! 

Change never scared me, but now I can honestly say I'm looking forward to whatever changes may come in this next chapter of my life!

I've never been so optimistic for the unknown!

Life is

Funny, isn't it?

Life is a series of events that we experience and find beauty in.

Each blade of grass has to feel something when the sun comes out. Without it, they couldn't survive.

A baby can only feel joy for the mother that nursed him.

With life comes trial. Situations that force you to stop and feel.

I'm lucky enough to be able to see the beauty in these trying situations. Even funerals are beauteous to me, because we recognize that someone who meant something to all of us existed and now is gone, but will not be forgotten. When funerals are over, the family is happy just to be together again, to share laughs, memories and tears with one another. That, to me, is beautiful.

Today my mother told me that my grandfather has cancer.

I could experience this negatively, or I could be grateful that I grew up with my grandparents around and that they're still here today.

That, to me is also beautiful. As is life.

So many things remind me

Of Patrick. He made a joke about his sunglasses being shady (hardy harr harr) and now I think about him every time I see sunglasses. Also I call him Gingerbread man. Fitting because he likes ginger, always has ginger candy and has red facial hair. 

Also, whenever someone talks about not being heard, I think of him. Such a good listener and so sweet about whatever you tell him! I'm so lucky to have met him. I was dropping classes this quarter, and I forget why but I kept abnormal psych. I met him the very first day of abnormal psych, Tuesday April 8th.

I looked into his eyes and it was like magic. I used to feel like I couldn't look at him too long, because with his eyes came this overwhelming desire to kiss him, and I couldn't help myself. The first day we hung out, we were sitting in my car facing forward, hardly looking at each other. 

Once we were at the park, looking up at the sky, he rolled over, took my head in one hand and kissed me. Then he sighed, smiled, and looked back at the sky, as if everything was perfect in that moment because I was there.

Now when I look at him, I can restrain the urge to kiss him because I love just looking at him. His gorgeous eyes, one slightly more blue and yellow, the other more green and brown. His eyebrows caress his eyes, and the hair turns gold as it slides down the corners of his eyes and settles down on his cheeks.

When he smiles, I can see the wrinkles on his face from the sun and from smiling. (If you've read Stephanie Meyer's The Host, you know who he reminds me of.) I love everything about his face, it's so unique and interesting. I also love when I make him laugh. In that moment, nothing else matters except that I brought him joy for a little while.

I'm honestly surprised that I'm the way I am with him, usually I'm nervous around people so attractive and so tall, but he just.. Everything fits when we're together, I love it. Not to mention how affectionate he is with me, I love that too. I wish I could've seen my face the first time he held my hand, it must've been priceless.

Hmm, I can't wait to see him on Thursday. That crazy, awesome man. Seems so far away from today, but I suppose I can wait.

I've been trying not to...

Blogging is supposed to be about everything going on in my life, but all I want to blog about is Patrick. He is seriously great. I especially love when he dances and sings. He's so silly and fun, and it's so great being with him.

We have so much fun. And instead of letting thoughts, feelings and emotions burn inside of me I let them out, and he just swallows them, digests for a little while and then tells me how I can make them taste better the next time.

I'm so grateful for what he is to me, a friend and wonderful listener but also a great lover and the best boyfriend anyone could ask for.

Living in the moment is great, especially when you do it with good people who make you happy. I think I'm gonna stop myself now before I get going, I could write about Patrick all day.

I had the greatest idea today for an art piece today, but I'm so discouraged to even try to start it, because of everything going on. I know it'll all be okay, but it's more important than ever that I focus on school. I want to sketch out these ideas, though. When I finally have the time and the technique to produce the art I want to, I'm gonna put all of these on paper.

Time to go back to reading.

Snow Patrol - Chasing cars

This is exactly how I'm feeling right now. Scary how some songs portray feelings so accurately. Try to sing this while you read it, really feel the message.

We'll do it all

Everything

On our own

We don't need

Anything

Or anyone

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me

And just forget the world?

I don't quite know

How to say

How I feel

Those three words

Are said too much

They're not enough

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me

And just forget the world?

Forget what we're told

Before we get too old

Show me a garden

That's bursting into life

Let's waste time

Chasing cars

Around our heads

I need your grace

To remind me

To find my own

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me

And just forget the world?

Forget what we're told

Before we get too old

Show me a garden

That's bursting into life

All that I am

All that I ever was

Is here in your perfect eyes

They're all I can see

I don't know where

Confused about how as well

Just know that these things

Will never change for us at all

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me

And just forget the world?

My dream last night

Jhonny kidnapped me, my older brother, younger brother and younger sister. He seemed really into Ancient Egyptian culture gods, so much so that he was going to let me starve until he could safrifice me. He would open a wall and go into a sandy desert, then return later.

He played board games with my siblings while I was kept in a separate room away from human contact, away from food. He wanted them on his side, to forget about me.

Towards the end of the dream he decided to rape me. He smeared something blue on his lips and began walking towards me, but something distracted him so he left. My siblings were still in there, but I couldn't stay. No matter what, I knew I wouldn't be the same for them if he violated me.

I escaped from the house but forgot my phone. I crawled back into the window I'd escaped from, grabbed my phone and re-exited the window. I ran for my life, unable to dial 9-1-1 because I kept hitting the wrong numbers. My hands must have been shaking.

 Eventually I dialed it, though, told the person what happened and asked her to send officers to save my siblings. I ran into a neighbor's house (that became a police station?) and before I finally entered, I thought I saw Jhonny in a bright yellow shirt (even in the darkness of the night). He was scanning the scene for me. 

While I was dreaming, the thought survivor's guilt was constant in my mind, as if I wasn't thinking it, but saying it to myself.

And then I woke up.

Last night/this morning

It was the zombie apocalypse. Mom, dad, Cianne and I were walking through our old house in Philadelphia. Up the back steps, then watching the walkers come upstairs. One came up and spotted me.

I had a bent weapon, maybe a screwdriver that'd been bent at an angle. The creature threw it's face at me, trying to bite. I hammered my weapon into its head and dragged it down, slicing through its skull right through to its brain, like cutting watermelon. That weapon couldn't have been a screwdriver. It was unexplainably sharp and ridiculously easy to maneuver.

It wasn't dead. It groaned and reached for me with putrid limbs. I pierced the side of its head above the ear and dragged the blade across its forehead, old blood spattering everywhere. We need to remove their teeth, I thought. I said nothing, though. We left the house and talked to a neighbor in a wheelchair. 

I don't know who this person was. He was male, and the only two people I know are in wheelchairs are female. In the dream, we knew him. (Maybe he was a manifestation of Mr. Parker in Philly, a kind neighbor that had always kept an eye on us and our house. But Mr. Parker was black, and this man was white.)

He asked how we were doing and if I knew when this started. I replied that I'd woken up and it was happening, I had no idea when it started. I'd texted Darrin the night before and he hadn't responded (this happened in real life also). I wondered if he was okay.

We were leaving, but the next thing I remmeber is being at a strange room I can't identify. Couch to the left, door in the center and open space on the right. I remember having my backpack on the couch and stuffing it with these snacks and candies that were on the couch, then we had to go.

The next thing I remember, I was pregnant. We went to what looked like a cafeteria to hide out. I sat down to talk to some guys who were discussing the disaster. One asked what my due date was. I replied, "nine months from yesterday". Ridiculous, I know.

Then my parents took us to a church. They should know better, I thought. Even in a disaster like this, no way I was going to pray to an idea.

After that I was on a bridge with nuns (?) who were singing as a choir, although there had to be only 10 of them. I fell down on the bridge, it became steep a few feet away. Here I was about seven to eight months pregnant. It became like a video game, circular objects would fall down and I'd have to jump over them.

I don't know how I got back up that hill. The last scene in this dream was a group of us in an apartment. There was some music playing trying to lure us out so the zombies could eat us while we were entranced. I played music from my phone and laptop, trying to distract everyone.

My little cousin Tre was there, and he kept trying to go towards the music, I kept stopping him. Red lighting accompanied the terrifying music. Eventually, I got everyone to forget the music. There was a child there, young.

I asked her how old she was, she told me "three". I picked her up and said it was time to explain what's going on to her. I told her that everything dies, one day I would die. Trees die after a while, so does grass. The scary things outside are dead. They were people, but not anymore. She didn't seem to understand the relevance of what I was saying.

One of the females in the apartment with us had a glittering, glowing blue face. I couldn't tell if she'd made her face up with some makeup she'd found, or if her skin was just blue. She spoke gently, elegantly, but appeared to be a teenager.

I opened my eyes and blinked.

Just part of my dress.

Who invented fabric markers, anyway? They're amazing.

He asked what I was excited about.

Living on the CSUMB campus, number one. It used to be a military base, so it's quirky, a little weird, but environmentally friendly! 

Excited to be near the aquarium! (I told him on the way to SF to make sure I have his current address this fall, because I know I'm gonna find stuff to send him. $10 says I find a sea turtle postcard.

Excited to have a roommate! I hope that we either become really close friends or are good friends with benefits. Plus it'll be nice to just have someone who lives with me and knows me, inside and out.

I'm excited for my major. The art department is so cool and they use things I've never dreamed could be made into art! I'm ecstatic for that.

I can't wait to be on my own. Whether I have the car or not, I'm gonna be all on my own! Finally!

However, I'm gonna miss everyone. I've made such good friends at De Anza, it'll be hard to leave them. Even the friends I just met, Patrick and his two roommates are such awesome people.

His roommates are brothers. Both do martial arts, the younger one is a music genius and videographer (is that what it's called?), also is currently in the hospital. In a freak accident, he became severely injured. Saturday I want to see him, I haven't yet.

Both he and his brother are such good hosts and so polite, but the younger brother and I have a thing going. One day I spent a few hours, just he and I in the house, it was great. We sort of developed a bond (unless it's in my head), especially because we're the same age. For some reason that made me feel I could relate to him.

I've been having daymares about him waking up in the hospital alone. The first people he sees are doctors and nurses telling him what happened, what treatment they're giving him, why he's so heavily sedated.

It's a terrible thought. I had hoped that he'd wake up to his brother's worried face, who'd then be happy he was awake. I suppose it's a little strange to feel such a deep connection to people I just met, but some people are just open for connection. Those brothers are those people.

Always wanting new friends, always polite and good hosts, fun people who are living and loving life. How could you not feel a connection with people like that? They're such great people. When I visit from Monterey, I know they'll be cool with me crashing there (or wherever they are). 

I'm a little sad to go. I've just met all these people, some last quarter and others last month. They're all great people in one way or another and I'll be sad to leave them.

Especially Patrick. He's one person I can tell anything without having to worry about him judging me, I don't necessarily  get that from my other friends. Sure, they'll listen, but many of us get defensive about our opposing viewpoints because we feel we're being judged.

Patrick is like the best therapist ever. He just listens, ponders, gives some advice but then makes sure you'rs not putting yourself down and tries to get you to see other perspectives.

To be sure, I'm excited for life in general, because here's where it's gonna get even more exciting! New chapter in my life, new experiences, new adventures.

The moon always looks sad to me.

I had an astronomy book as a kid that told of a myth where the moon and the sun were lovers.

However, one day they were separated. That's why if you look at the moon just the right way, you can see her mourning face.

I see the moon today and appreciate it's undeniable beauty, but I still look up and see those sad eyes, mouth agape with what appears to be sorrow escaping rapidly.

Opposites must attract, and cont'd thoughts

That's the only explanation for some of the people I feel a gripping attraction to. When I met this guy (D) through a friend in high school, he partied a lot and was doing some party drugs. He also drank way too much and recently started smoking cigarettes.

All of those things are red flags for me, but what drew us together was our great conversations. The first time I met D, we talked for about six hours on the phone, about funny, awful, amazing things I don't even remember. 

We didn't end up together because he lives in another city and wasn't willing to give up his lifestyle. However, when we were together it was like... Yes. This is how a relationship should be. We were nervous and excited and he kissed me very often and he was so very sweet.

I'm not sure if this was a legitimate experience or if it was so perfect to me because I hadn't really had anything like it before.

I'm reminded of Jhonny in this way. He has a girlfriend and they are super cute together, also he smokes cigarettes, which is the number one "no no" for me. No matte what, I can't date someone who smokes. They would have to have quit at least a month before we even think about dating.

Even though Jhonny and I aren't anything but friends, I can tell that there would be something between us if circumstances were different. From the first moment he spoke to me and our eyes met, he was kind. Sympathetic because he knew I felt out of place. I was literally wearing a bright blue dress and everyone else was dressed in black. I guess they're goth but I see them more as punk/goth.

A strange feeling came over me at Jhonny's party while I was sitting on Patrick's lap and Jhonny and I locked eyes. Was it longing? Jealousy? But how could I have been jealous? That was the first time Patrick called me baby, said I was too good to him. I was happy. How is it possible to be happy and sort of jealous?

I don't feel like this when I see Jhonny with his lady, though. I'm happy they're together and make each other happy. Still I can't help but wonder; if he didn't smoke or if I did, if he was single would it be different? 

Part of me wants to doubt this nonverbal connection, but then I think back to when our eyes meet. The slight change of facial expression when Patrick gestured to me and said "this lovely lady right here" when Jhonny asked who'd invited him. Sometimes two people think the same thought, feel the same strange emotion, but doubt it because of the circumstances and/or situation.

I'm certain he thinks of it sometimes. When I post on facebook, he's the first to comment. He didn't go completely facebook stalker like I did, but he liked a few pictures of me, and the ones he chose were interesting. He didn't like the ones where I'm dressed up, wearing makeup and/or posing.

He liked the ones of my face in the nude, of me making silly faces and wearing regular summer clothing. I think he saw who I really am and liked what he saw. 

I guess there's a certain poetry in the possibility of two people sharing a deep connection that has the ability to be love, but them being unable to give in to that possibility.

Like that song Erykah Badu sings, "Now what am I supposed to do when I want you in my world? How can I want you for myself when I'm already someone's girl? I guess I'll see you next lifetime, maybe we'll be butterflies..."

In the music video, they meet again in other lifetimes but she never ends up with him, she just keeps saying "see you next lifetime". This really makes me think about the "faithfulness" of my past relationships.

I told myself I'd never break up with someone for someone else. Once the relationship ended, I wondered why I didn't give the person a chance. Particularly one summer when I was in a long-distance relationship with the king of immaturity. Because I was with him, I didn't give in to the obvious attraction I felt to this guy named Luis. He was kind and funny, smart, silly, and he loved Johnny Bravo. 

I really wish I would've given it a chance with him. He was one of the few people that could make me happy just being himself. Being silly, dancing around and singing songs with me. Maybe one day I'll have the opportunity again, if he'll give me the chance. I think he has a girlfriend now. 

He wasn't an opposite of me, but a compliment to me, my personality. Is it complimentary angles in geometry that add up to 180°? Random thought.

I guess what I'm trying to get myself to see is that sometimes opposites attract, and that's okay. Sometimes you could be dating someone who's nice but not right for you; that's okay too. And, sometimes, you should take a chance on people who make you happy, and that's more than okay. 

This tree made me happy.

Destroyed (and tangent)

I'm always a little upset to see how people have grown. A boy that was once sweet to me, was so nervous that he kissed my ear aiming for my cheek, who picked me roses from his aunt's garden and didn't want his arm around me in the wrong position because he didn't want to disrespectfully touch my chest.

I looked through his facebook page and my memories were crushed with a photo he shared. "Eat, smoke, 'love', sleep, repeat" hit me hard. He wasn't that sweet little boy anymore. He was shaped by his environment and the media today into another dozen you can buy for a dime.

My sweet little cousin turned the same way. Looking at women as objects through which pleasure is received instead of viewing us as people who deserve respect. Don't get me wrong, women today are also to blame, doing what they can to try to be what men want them to be instead of maintaining their self-respect.

Growing up is hard enough, but watching others do the same (or, rather, do the opposite) is almost worse. Children bring such hope to us with their innocence and kind ways, when their innocence is gone.. It's discouraging.

I hope I give birth to at least one male child so that I can raise him to be old-fasioned, a gentleman. Honest, compassionate, and accepting of all people. Patrick doesn't know this yet, but he'll be (at least) a mentor to my future children, because they just don't make 'em like him anymore. 

I'm really happy I met him. My faith in people returns when he refuses politely, keeps his values dear to him without judging others', and is ready to offer any and everyone a word of kindness or a smile. He gives me so much hope about life and the future. I really hope he becomes a Big Brother, because he is the perfect model for any young boy(s). 

I wish I'd had an older sibling like him growing up instead of the manipulative one I had.

Reverse ladybug! Buglady.

mood explanation/ other things

I should've went running with Patrick. I hadn't realized until today how long it's been since I was active and how that's affected me. While I was taking body sculpting at De Anza I was generally in a good mood, understandably. I've been emotionally spiraling lately, and this time my period is way too far off to blame.

I've been cooped up inside for the passed.. month. Doing homework mostly, and other necessary things like cleaning and organizing. But I'm gonna try to start exercising more often, it's good for me. Today I ran with Milo, then came inside and did solo combat abs, Russian twists, pushups, some glute workouts and ended with yoga (a few quick poses because I was feeling nauseous).

Jhonny, the sweet guy who invited me to his house party started a sparring club today. I don't know what possessed me to want to join it but I do. Wrestling is definitely not my thing, at least not now. I have no formal training and don't think I'd want to wrestle even if I had some. But sparring brings back good times for me.

Taekwondo with the other families in Philadelphia. I know this will be less like that, but I'm excited nonetheless. I've never had a black eye or broken bone before. Bruises on me have always been small. Maybe feeling tough physically will rub off on me mentally.

I was looking at the word therapist in my psychology textbook. It's made of two words. "the" and "rapist". I know, it comes from "therapy" but still. Strange. Like how slaughter and laughter are one letter away from each other.

I'm behind in my schoolwork, again. These three classes have so much reading between them. Only 20-30 pages per chapter but they're dense and my tests are based off of the text, so I have to know it all. I found I can read a chapter a day when I get home but that means I get home at seven, start reading immediately, then go to bed at nine (and the reading takes two hours) so I'm rested for the next day. This commute really sucks. But it's May, I have two months left until I graduate and then have orientation at CSUMB! I have to persevere.

Darrin and I are weird, and awesome as always. I called him crying like I always do. He was sweet and helped me out like he always does. I'm glad that I kept my best friend in the divorce. I don't understand how people can break up and never want to speak to each other again. Darrin knows me, he can anticipate my reactions and emotions. I'm glad he still feels that I'm important to him in some way, shape or form.

I'm always surprised how people see me. I've been asking myself lately what people see in me. I see myself as weak, needy, overly playful and mildly annoying at best. I wondered why Patrick hasn't decided I'm too much. That I'm not good enough, too stuck in my head and not grounded in life. Why Yasmine and Robert haven't decided they're not getting anything out of this friendship.

Switching gears a little bit, I've found I don't like the way I am in certain situations. At Vicky's, I feel like a child sometimes. She is also very controlling and I'm not very assertive, so that's part of why. But certain times I just stand awkwardly, twiddle my thumbs and swing my arms like an impatient child. I always told Darrin situations are only awkward if you make them so. If that's true, what am I doing and how do I stop?

I want to be 100% honest with myself and with other people but I still can't. Sometimes, I need to just tell Vicky to shut up, sit down and let me do things. On a separate occasion, I needed to tell the truth when it was easiest to, and I didn't. I blamed myself and made myself look weak.

I hate that I have a hard time telling people when they've hurt my feelings or embarrassed me. I can do it through text message now, which I couldn't before, but that's not where I want to be. I want to be able to say, plain and simple, "That hurt my feelings." Even though that almost always is not the person's intention, I still can't say it. I know the opportunity will present itself again for me to be honest about what I blamed myself for, I just hope I can be brave and say what I want to say.

It's something I have to work on. I don't want to put myself down anymore, I've done enough of that already to last me my whole life. Time to start embracing who I am, changing what I can and accepting what I can't. Right now, though, it's 11:43pm and my alarm goes off at 5 sharp.

I remembered my dream from last night

And I'm afraid of what it means. Is it normal to dream of someone saying what you're afraid to? In the dream my thoughts and fears were acted out through another person, it was strange but I found it sweet. I suppose that's what I would want if I was brave enough to say what's festering in the back of my mind.

(no title)

I'm lucky to have the people that I do. I'm not an easy person to deal with; very emotional and easily upset. When people upset me, I frequently don't tell them they've upset me; simultaneously I expect them to know.

The people that surround me are people who, for some reason like to be around me. Find me to be a good friend and person worth spending time with and trusting with intimate details and stories of their lives. That says a lot. I see myself quite differently than others see me, obviously. But I'm gonna try to see myself through others' eyes.

Blue

Strange color for an emotion.

Doesn't blue symbolize that which is calm?

It doesn't make sense to me.

When I'm feeling down it's more like a gray. Ugly and bland, gruel.

Nature is a funny thing, isn't? Photosynthetic organisms that calculate how much food they need to survive the night. Living creatures that recognize their kin without eyes and can hear danger without ears. Plants set the standard for what we are and how we function. 

I wonder how "family tree" became a concept. What the basis for a brain was, and why it was beneficial for creatures to develop brains when plants exist quite numerously today.

Maybe because brains allowed for more or life's spoils. I think of mushrooms, who secrete enzymes to help them digest worms.

Perhaps that mushroom grew a brain one day and became a bird. Now instead of waiting for worms to emerge, it can dig to find them. 

I think nature is a funny thing. We don't stop to realize how intelligent plant life is. We humans believe that if you can't, won't or don't fight back, what little intelligence you have is meaningless.

I appreciate nature in its complexity, for it's brainless intelligence and omnipresent beauty. There's a reason we go camping and hiking. Nature is home.

There are some things I find I don't need to say. I tend to let feelings, thoughts and emotions burn inside me until they burn their way up and seep through my lips. 

Even then, my thoughts ooze out, never accurately portraying how I feel inside. 

Some cultures prefer the use of silence to trying to put words to every single thought and feeling; they feel as though it cheapens the thought or feeling.

I find now that the nonverbal is very indicative, and defining in a relationship. My friends and I have mixed silences. Sometimes we're busy and don't notice the silence at all. Other times it's uncomfortable and we feel the need to fill it with humor. It's on the rare occasion that silence speaks more than we ever could.

When one of us cries after we've told the others what's happening, we don't bother trying to fill that silence, it's already so rich in sympathy, empathy, sorrow and sometimes helplessness.

While I cried, Yasmine held my hand and let it happen. The second time, she just listened (I was also telling her what happened). She didn't judge me or make me feel badly, she just listened patiently until I was done and then told me what was eating her.

It takes a solid relationship to embrace silence as peace.

I suppose in our Brave New World with such people in it, people tweeting, texting, hashtagging, facebooking, instagramming and vining, we're encouraged to communicate with each other and to use words to do it.

Nowhere are we encouraged to just be, just enjoy. 

Today, I just existed.

I pondered life and its equity.

In silence I acknowledged life, death.

Children crying, people hurting, while we laugh and enjoy people are sleeping out on the streets, going home early, falling in love, hating their lives and cutting themselves.

The universe is equal. None of us choose to be alive.

In silence I realize, there is a still beauty about the world, the universe, the stardust in you and in me.

Sometimes the silliest things remind us of our humanity. When I arrived at De Anza College one day, two parent geese were walking their children across the street. Cars were stopped to let them by, but no one honked their horn, no one flipped anyone off or curses anyone else. Everyone was sort of frozen in this moment of awe.

I looked in my rear view mirror and saw that the man in the car behind me stared at the geese also, dressed in a suit and the fist he rested his chin on had an expensive looking watch. 

For a moment, I was reminded that the world is beautiful. That life is worth living because sometimes we're compassionate.

I must wear my emotions on my face.

I was just thinking about how the men in my life can automatically tell when I'm upset, even when I think I'm hiding it well. Firstly, my dad. He can always tell when I'm anything but happy because of what I do nonverbally. Second, Darrin. He can tell by situations that I'm upset, for instance he knows that I only call him when I'm really happy or really upset, but usually the latter. Patrick boggles my mind because he just met me (a month ago tomorrow) and yet he seems to read my moods and thoughts as if they're written on my face.

I feel like I'm sharing too much with this blog sometimes. Many times I'll type paragraph after paragraph and then delete the whole thing. But how could it not be so personal when I made it my mission to write every day?

I'm conflicted.

Only two people actually read what I write, and they're the two people I mention most in my blog. It makes me feel as though I'm blogging unecessarily. Instead of being brave and saying these things to people, I blog about them to get the thoughts and feelings out of my system. It makes me feel like the thirteen year olds that ask each other out and break up via text message.

Using an impersonal method of communication in order to avoid emotions and/or disappointment and/or conflict seems childish to me. Is that what I'm doing? 

What are blogs for, anyways?

Independence?

My mom influences so much of my beliefs that she also indirectly influences my behaviors. There's nothing wrong with this per se, but as an adult I want to influence my own behaviors and decisions.

At some point I'll need to live my life the way I want to, not the way she wants. She's not an overbearing parent, though. In fact, I'd call her a supermom. She just wants very specific things for me, like a stable job. While there's nothing wrong with that, I feel as though she is uncomfortable with the idea of me being a starving artist (because she knows I love food, pun intended). She frequently tells me how beneficial it would be for me to marry someone with a lot of money so that I can do what I want and be secure.

I don't want to find security in another person, that's not what being an adult is. I want to find security in myself and learn to have faith in myself, because that's what's important to me. Fing taxes I'm listed as "Dependent" on my parents, because they provide what I need to survive. I despise everything about having to rely on someone else in every way. I don't want to live like a child my entire life, there's so much to do and experience and I cannot live my life with someone else's voice playing in my head.

After I finish my Bachelor's at CSU Monterey Bay, I want to join the Peace Corps. My mother didn't plan this for me but was supportive nontheless. I suppose when I return she'll want me to search for a nine-to-five job to bring myself some kind of security. Maybe that's not for me, though. Maybe I can make it as an artist once I have some training under my belt. And maybe not, maybe I'll get a Master's in something completely different. Who knows, really?

No one knows. But I do know this: I'm sick of living a child's life. I'm hoping that I can find employment for the summer so that I can begin to pay back the money I owe my mother and start paying for some things myself. My mom told me that as a kid, as soon as I had money I would try to pay for things instead of letting her do it. I've wanted to be self-sufficient for a long time. I was while working at Great America. Because I saved my money so well I frequently had at least $1,000 in my account.

This helped because I could pay for things like gas, groceries, my own clothes, etc. However, that was also possible because my parents pre-paid more than half of my rent for the three months I was living in an apartment with one of my dad's friends.

I can't wait for the day I influence and support myself. Until then, I guess I'll have to try to see past others' opinions and act on my own. 

This is my red doberman, Milo

And this is how he looks at me when I call him.

My freshly re-twisted dreadlocks

Scumbag brain again and generalness

If you think something and you almost say it, does that mean it's true or is it just a Freudian slip? I was listening to the radio and they were saying "people who blahblahblah, blahblahblah". At that moment I thought, "I'm dating someone who..." And the thought ended because I realized what'd just happened. I'm so fascinated with it because this has NEVER happened before. I've never had thoughts go directly from brain to mouth. I think and process before I say anything, that's always what I do. This new thing is not okay and a little scary. I know Patrick is sweet and would never hurt my feelings, but there are some things I'm much too afraid to tell him because I know what his response will be.

Anyways, Darrin and I had an interesting conversation. He said that even though he loves what he has with his new lady, he misses us; and he feels bad for missing us, which is ridiculous. He got with Bree really soon after we broke up, so naturally he's still feeling a little mixed up. I miss him too, sometimes more than others. After two years of hard work, I think our relationship was getting to a good spot, and another visit would've kept us from breaking up, because the lonliness is what got to us.

Still, I have no regrets, and I'm happy about the situation I'm in. Now I have a best friend who really knows me and still helps me with problems I have. What more could I ask for? Well, I could ask for pot stickers.

Today was another boring day in my intercultural communications class. He talked too much, showed us a video and asked for our insights. Mostly, everyone repeated the comments we heard from the video. I often wonder why we waste class time the way we do. He really should make it an online class or at least a hybrid.

My Intercultural Communications professor

     Is one unbelievable person, in a negative way. He never prepares powerpoints for class, he googles issues and lets us read them. My speech professor would be furious! That's (probably) some form of plagiarism! But wait, there's more!

Everything regarding Intercultural Communication is about discrimination with him. He showed us the Rodney King beating, then googled some anti-semite that killed (who he thought were) three Jewish people. After that we listened to the whole, 9-minute segment of Donald Sterling cry-arguing with his.. I'm not sure, mistress? Girlfriend? 

We never talk about tools or tips to help us be effective intercultural communicators, only why and how people can't communicate effectively. It's frustrating. He means well but he portrays things so negatively and/or incorrectly.

While explaining to us our assignment to analyze our culture, he basically encouraged us to only report on our ethnic backgrounds. He said not to report on cultures we're a part of such as gaming cultures, because "we may not be able to provide enough information on it," which is bovine excrement. 

He also represents things in strange ways. While talking about the LGBT community, he said that being gay was not a choice and should be respected as a culture but hinted towards it not being acceptable. 

He reminds me of Michael Scott. He means well and wants to help, so much so that he doesn't realize his contradictory ways. We waste a lot of class time unnecessarily, also. 

When he really gets going on discrimination, it takes an hour, half our class time. On a more recent occasion, he told us to make sure we read through our assignment, understand it, and come back with any questions. Then we spent half the class period listening to him read and explain the syllabus, and for the other half he just went through the chapter and commented on what we were already meant to have read.

We had so little to do he let us out early. Our classes really are a waste of time. This is the only time that, on the fabulous De Anza campus, a class has been completely useless. It's not just his fault, though. Mostly, my classmates don't participate, so I don't even get new insights from the class.

It's sad, now that I think about it. I wonder if anyone else feels the same way. 

Stupid brain strikes again!

In class just now my professor was talking about waitors/waitresses that make their living off of tips. My brain shouted, "My boyfriend is a waitor, he makes lots of money on tips". This has never happened before and I'm very afraid. I don't know how to shut off these... I guess thoughts? But they don't feel like thoughts, more like... Well I'm not sure. Really strange though.

I have a scumbag-overly attached girlfriend brain. Also Patrick can read my mind.

When I'm with Patrick, My brain screams things out sometimes. Walking home from the party, the strangest though popped into my head and sprinted to my mouth. I had just caught it before it escaped my lips. Scumbag brain, sending me Overly-Attached-Girlfriend thoughts. One that I saw on Reddit was this girl that was complaining about her period to her boyfriend. She said "this wouldn't have happened if you'd gotten me pregnant." My thought wasn't that bad, but very very close. 

I wouldn't mind if I wasn't so afraid. Afraid that I want a relationship now and he may not. Afraid that I just met such an amazing person and soon I'll have to leave. And afraid that I'm falling for someone with perfect balance. 

Blogging helps me face these fears and get them out of my body, because they've been stirring inside me, twisting my stomach and squeezing my heart. 

Moving on, I swear he can read my mind! While laying with him (I think after we'd woken up,) ten million questions were racing through my mind, he asked if I had any questions for him, because he felt like I did. I wonder how he knows! I can't keep any emotions, thoughts or feelings from him because somehow he knows. Equally important, he understands and doesn't judge or put me down. I love that about him.

Thinking about this plus eyeliner for the interview.

Why I haven't blogged since Wednesday

On Thursday, Patrick met my mom, and that was interesting. She told my dad she liked him, that he's like my uncle Mike without the frat boy attitude. We gave him a ride to his apartment and once he was out, my mom had lots of questions. She wanted to know if we were officially together and when I said I didn't know, she asked when "we'll" find out. She asked why we're not together. I told her he said he wasn't looking for a relationship, and when he asked me what I'm looking for I said I didn't know.

Then she asked what we talk about, which I think is an unusual question, but I told her the truth. We talk about the most random things, plants, life, the universe, all of it. The other day he told me about some astronomers watching a star being born 6 billion years ago. It's THAT random. What I didn't tell her is that it's great even when we're not talking. At least it's great for me. I can't speak for Patrick, but when it's silent, we sort of just enjoy the silence unless we can think of something to say.

Thursday I was excited because Friday was the party. I dropped Cianne off at work and then met Patrick at a coffee shop in the "historic downtown" area of the city he lives in. We talked for a little while and then went to his place. After that, Rubios (with some free meal coupons my mom gave me) and we walked to Safeway. While we were walking he asked if I want kids in the future. My mom asks me that a lot, so I'm not sure why I was caught so off-guard when he did. We went into Safeway and he picked up a case of beer for the party (so thoughtful, I was ready to show up with nothing).

He was paying when I got a call for a job interview at a place in Santana Row (that my friend Yasmine told me I should apply for)! I am more than excited! If Stanford decides they'd like to hire me, I think I'll work both jobs. Because having Stanford University on a résumé looks pretty good, I'm sure.

So we picked up my sister from work and she took much longer than expected, she was about 45min late. I drove us back to his place so I could put on my pajama pants (it was really chilly out). Before we walked to the party, he said he had something to show me, I had no idea what to expect. We walked and talked and he stopped me in front of a wall of star jasmine!

It was beautiful and smelled delicious! (I introduced him to star Jasmine on the day we hung out at Panera Bread, that's part of why it was so special.) He knew I'd love it, which was the sweetest thing. So we walked to the party, talking about random things, and when we arrived, I saw the hosts of the party fire spinning. It was amazing. Patrick went before I did, took both rods and spun them around.

I was pretty afraid to do it, given my clumsiness, but eventually I did. It was amazing, and really warm. After that, we sort of went our separate ways. I jumped on the trampoline for a while and he went inside to get a beer. Then I got off and found him, he was mingling. I went inside where video games were happening inside and I conversed with a girl about cats and how we met the hosts.

After she left, I found Patrick again and joined in another conversation. One of the hosts (the girlfriend of the guy who invited me) was setting up mats on the grass for wrestling. She wrestled with this guy and he had to tap out twice! It was amazing. Patrick was getting really hyped up next to me. After they were done, he wrestled her. She was very well trained in wrestling, but Patrick got her in some kind of hold, twice.

The very interesting part was that next, Jhonny (the host) wrestled Patrick! Because the rules were unclear, Jhonny stood up and got Patrick in a hold, he tapped out the first round. The second round, once the rules were clear, they went again. This round lasted a while. It was so intense I couldn't look away. Jhonny kept grabbing Patrick's neck in some sort of choke hold. Patrick told me after it cracked his neck and it was hurting a little after.

I don't remember much, but what I do remember is that they wrestled each other off of the mats and onto the grass, Patrick red in the face and Jhonny concentrated. Jhonny stood up, bringing Patrick with him, and slammed him down onto the mat, trying to get him to let go so he could pin him. I think my heart stopped as I watched. I wasn't sure because I wasn't breathing either. Jhonny kept raising his fist in the air to try and intimidate Patrick, to scare him into letting go but he paid no mind. Patrick remained focused, keeping Jhonny's hands away from his neck. They kept wrestling until both were sweaty and very exhausted. My heart resumed beating and I took a breath.

Afterwards, they smiled and complimented each other, shook hands and made plans to do it again. Jhonny asked who brought him to the party and Patrick gestured to me and said "this lovely lady right here". My heart fluttered. I could tell Patrick was more than exhausted. When the two were done talking, I got him some water and a paper towel to wipe the grass off of his face and neck.

I don't remember the order it happened in, only that I gave him the water, started wiping his face with the paper towel, and he said "Thank you, baby," with a huge smile. I don't know what face I made, but it must have been priceless. I continued wiping his face, dabbing at sweat and picking off pieces of grass now stuck to him. Then, I think he said "You're too good to me." Was I breathing? I didn't know and I didn't care.

From that point on, I sat on his lap and we watched some people play video games until we were both ready to leave. We said our goodbyes and walked back to his apartment, exchanging life stories and experiences. When we got to his place, we went talked with one of his roommates for a little while, and then went to bed. Nothing compared to waking up and seeing his face.

I didn't have that moment of "Where am I? How did I get here? Oh yeah!" I woke up and saw his face. I kissed him and went back to sleep. I think this happened a few times. When we finally got up he made us tea and breakfast! So far I'm at first party I've ever been to, first time sleeping at a guy's house, first time someone's made breakfast for me. He's just so great.

Because he cooked, I washed the dishes, and he said "Thanks, baby" again. He's so interesting also. He's a honey and cinnamon kind of guy, that's what he put in my tea. For breakfast we had eggs and sweet potato that he sliced, peppered, oiled, and stuck in the oven. It was foreign to me but so delicious.

He dances and sings a lot which I love because he's not afraid to be silly and have fun like other people I've been with. They've been to afraid to "look stupid" or uncool. I love that Patrick has no problem being silly. It's one of my favorite things about him. After breakfast and listening to music, we took a nap before he had to leave for work, and when he did it sucked, but he came back because he lost his watch.

I watched him leave through the window in his room. I though about how lucky I am to have met someone who makes himself so happy. I can tell in the way he walks, the way he sighs in the sunshine that he couldn't be happier with life. Except maybe if he got to play with a sea turtle. After he left I went back to sleep smiling. I was in his bed, smelling him everywhere. It was amazing.

When I woke up, one of his roommates was playing amazing music. They all have the best taste in music. Not the crap that's on the radio, but their own reggae, rock, blues, r&b, ugh it's great. I really like Jack Johnson, Patrick played him today while we were napping/half-awake. Since Patrick was gone, I got some work done and chatted with his roommate, who is so interesting.

He's a musical genius. My age, writing songs, playing guitar and he sings beautifully. I'd be surprised if he's single, but at the same time I could understand it. With roommates like he has and such a love for music. . . I could see it. Before I left, I texted Patrick I left him a printout for our Abnormal Psychology class. He replied "Thanks, sugar :)". My sister didn't see how big my smile was.

While I was pumping gas, I texted him that I was about to drive home, and he replied something like "Okay baby, get home safely". He says the greatest things at the greatest times. What was the best for me was that he said it aloud and in public before he started texting it to me. I'm very happy, if you can't tell. I told my friends that he called me baby and one of them asked if we're "together" now.

I think I could argue we've been "together" since we've met, because we started hanging out soon after. I told my friend that I didn't know, nor did I care. I like spending time with Patrick and we make each other happy. If he doesn't want a committed or official relationship, that's fine by me. I'm enjoying every bit of time I get to spend with him, because that's what is really important to me.