(Sad title)

I used to believe romantic love was real

Then my heart was broken

Then I thought that love is only real

Between parent and child

Then my sister's boyfriend murdered my nephew and she helped hide the body, quite literally.

Now I don't believe in love.

She said she loved that sweet little boy.

That was a lie.

Love does not exist.

Love is a word we use to mean caring for someone deeply.

If love was real at all, my nephew would be alive.

Love does not exist, only caring for someone deeply.

Tragedy. On Christmas.

I'm using this to sort out my feelings with this awful Christmas news my parents delivered to me. On Christmas Eve, my mom told all of us that on Christmas, there was to be no technology, only family time. When I woke up (really late, around 1pm), my mom and dad both had their laptops and phones out. I told them to put it away and reminded them it was Christmas. After my mom had taken a shower, she said she had something terrible to tell us, and that she wanted us to open presents first so that we could still have some sort of Christmas.

My first thought was that my mom had lost her job, and that I wouldn't be able to go to school anymore, but it seemed more serious than that. Maybe someone had died in the family or developed an aggressive cancer. Somehow the news was far worse than anything I could imagine. My mother told my sister and I that my nephew is missing and that my half sister and her boyfriend are in jail.

A homicide detective told them over the phone that some new evidence they'd found overnight caused them to believe it was homicide. However, the man said he would keep us updated, although we probably won't hear anything until Monday.

First I cried. Then I sobbed. I knew she was self-centered, but... No. If they don't find that little peanut, I don't think I could ever forgive either of them. From the time my nephew was born, his mother tried to use him to get gifts from our mother, picking out expensive strollers and cribs and hinting to our mother that they wanted it. After a visit my mother paid them for my nephew's birthday, she told us what she saw, because it made no sense.

Messes everywhere, foul smells, and in the freezing East Coast weather my nephew was without a jacket. It was "lost" according to my half sister. It all seems worse, now that he's missing. My half sister is in jail, charged with misdemeanor child neglect, which she should be. Her boyfriend is in jail under suspicion of murder.

I just keep thinking, why? Why would anyone treat such a sweet little boy that way? How could you look at his sweet little face and not give him anything and everything? That little ball of energy only gave love and wanted only to receive it in return. Well, that and batman pajamas.

The hardest part was when I googled it. I typed in my nephew's name and the state they live in, stories came about left and right. My little peanut's name all over the news. "Missing" and then "murder". My half sister and her boyfriend's mugshots side by side. He looks crazy and evil as ever, but her face pissed me off. She looks unapologetic. She looks as though she were in an argument with someone and she was defending her terrible actions. That person I'd grown up with was making THAT FACE when they took her picture. She was looking as though she'd done nothing wrong. And that I couldn't stand. That made me sick.

I'm still hoping they find that little angel. Wherever he may be, I hope he's alive and well.

This is the story: http://www.wral.com/missing-2-year-old-raleigh-boy-s-father-charged-with-murder/14306867/ I can't believe it still. I hope it's not true. And right now hope is all I can do until they find him.

Today is December 5th.

My finals are done! I'm overjoyed. And I was craving the sexy time. One David with a dog named Sage spent the night and slept here until morning. That was great. I don't care about how many people I have sex with. The more important thing is that I have sex with people that care about me as a friend. They don't just have sex with me and leave, cheapening the experience. We have sex and then eat and talk and sleep and then they leave when they're good and ready. I like that very much.

In other news, my sister was diagnosed bipolar on Monday, Dec. 1st. Although it's really hard for my mom, dad and I, we are finding the humor in it, because she says the craziest shit. One of my favorites was "Girl, I can hear things now. I'm like Superman." They get better and better as time goes on. Although I help us find the humor in it, I feel guilty for being away from home. I wish I could help out, give my parents a break. I don't spend much time crying, but I do spend a bit of time thinking of my sister.

I'll be relieved to go home. Next week I'm going home on Thursday and staying until Sunday so I can squeeze in family time and help out a little. Can't think of a better way to spend 4 days.

In case you forgot what I look like.

Lately...

I've been lonely. I told you that already. It's been getting better thanks to Dylan and Brandon. Dylan is a surfer/skater/stoner that likes having me over and Brandon is an army man who has to come up to see me (they don't allow the opposite gender in their... I don't know... living quarters).

I met Brandon on OkCupid. He's really funny and fun to hang out with. Very tall, slightly muscular build, dark African skin. He slept over for about two days, it was a blur of sex, Bob's Burgers, sleep, and food. Great, lazy weekend.

I've had Dylan's number since school started. His radio show is before mine, so I'd text him when I was running late. One day, I had totally forgot about my radio show and he was sweet enough to pick me up. He confessed that he saw me on OkCupid for a while, that he's had the app for years and it hadn't worked out for him. Dylan is short, white, with the long blonde hair of a thirteen year old girl and the beard/mustache combo of a viking. Driving back to campus, we decided we should hang out sometime. Even though it was cold outside, about a week later, we went to the beach. We ran 250 feet before we got into the water. He dove into the water and swam, even though it was cold. He helped me find lots of beautiful rocks and shells, it was great.

By the time that was done, we were both freezing and feared hypothermia, so we huddled behind a sandy hill. He gave me his thick, warm camping jacket, and I put his arms around my waist so he could share in the warmth he'd helped foster. I was sitting on his lap and laying on top of him simultaneously, peacefully enjoying the sounds of the ocean just 500 feet away from us. He kept his hands on my back gently, as if I were a balloon that would float away otherwise.

After that, we stood up and the wind hit us. We walked back to our cars and then went to get food. We took it back to his place and watched Archer while we ate. He took me to the Pancake Art Gallery my school had, sweet of him. While seated there, he put his arm around me. We left around 10 and went back to his place. After cuddling for an hour or so, his face was close to mine. I was nervous and awkwardly turned my head to face the tv again when he took my chin in his index finger and thumb, turned my head to face him, and kissed me.

One thing led to another and I spend the night with him. It was awful, haha. I got close to no sleep because he snores in through his nose and out through his mouth. It also didn't help that we didn't actually sleep until 4 or 5 in the morning. But I greatly enjoyed my time with him. Since then, we've gone hiking together and have hung out once more. We're not too big on texting each other, it's nothing like being in-person. Once I get back, I definitely hope to see him again.

However, we're not dating because he hasn't brought it up. I don't like to assume and I don't like to be the one to make it official, because I know most guys don't want that. So even though I really like being with Dylan, I think I'm going to invite Brandon over when I get back. After I see Dylan. I really like being with Dylan and spending the night with him, but I also like when Brandon spends the night. Plus, all of my finals are due the week of Monday, December 1st, so that weekend I will be overjoyed and no doubt craving sex.

I cried listening to music soulchild today. I can't help the fact that I'm lonely. I saw Patrick more often than Darrin or Mark, so I was used to being around him. Also, since he had his own place we had sex more times that I ever have before. Now that all of that intimacy is gone I feel the need to fill it again.

Maybe that's why I've been dipping my finger in cream cheese icing lately. And there's no question that's why I downloaded Tinder and OkCupid (neither of which I recommend, I deleted both). OkCupid was evil. So many Patricks on there, wanting to do everything that couples do but not calling it "dating".

Although OkCupid is better because you answer questions and then it matches you with other people and shows the percentage match you are

I don't know where I'm going with this. I downloaded Skout and it's somewhat better. I go on it and people compliment me and some others I chat with for hours. One guy named Eric has become a friend of mine, we chat pretty frequently.

Still, I'm moving forward, so onward and upward I suppose.

foolishness

Why do we love to do things bad for our bodies?

We smoke cigarettes and don't bother trying to quit. We drink alcohol until it poisons us. We "try" cocaine, heroine and meth even though we know they're terrible for us.

In the movie Sex Tape, Cameron Diaz's

Character does cocaine with her boss and it's presented in a comical way. Throughout the rest of the movie they don't show her craving it or going through withdrawl.

Part of the reason that people do things like this, I think, is because it is illegal. It's a forbidden fruit type thing. I'm inclined to say to just legalize it. That way the prices will go down and the people that want to do drugs can do them.

Those who educate themselves and their children will steer clear of such things. Other countries have legalized all drugs and it has brought the rates of use down considerably.

I am not suggesting that it's better for us to use drugs rampantly, only that we are adults and we should decide what we spend our money on. Eventually, people will become more wise about drug usage and the consequences.

I just thought of something.

As mad as I am at Patrick, I can't help the simple fact that I'm in love with him. I've been denying it since he basically said we were never together and we don't have a future together, but it's true.

I can't even remember him with anger. I play back the time we spent together, him making me breakfast, holding my hand, kissing me before class, taking me out because "I look so pretty".

Even though I know he doesn't feel the same way, my brain wants what who wants. The more I think about him, the more my anger fades. Of course he doesn't want to date someone like me; he's gorgeous and bisexual and he really likes to sleep around. 

It was silly of me to think I was special in his life. Even though I know I'm not and I never will be, I can't help but smile when I think about him. The puns he would randomly say, how he would always invite me to sit on his lap by just pulling my hips there, the first time he kissed me.

The first time we made out. Him inteoducing me to Jhonny as "this lovely lady right here". At my first party when he called me baby for the first time and said I was too good to him. Walking with him. I told him about Star Jasmine and he took me to this house that had a fence covered in it.

The night we drank Sangria on the beach. We just drank and talked and then he lay on top of me while he kissed me. And then after he said, "Let's get outta here," we folded up the blanket and walked back to his place.

I remember that once I said, "It seems like most of our relationship is folding blankets."

The way he would look at me and smile was unearthly. He adored my face and my eyes.

I could go on and on. But I won't, for my sake. I've stopped trying to fight the memories that come, but they usually end in me crying and/or wondering what Patrick is doing this very moment.

Which, I assume, isn't particularly healthy. So I get lonely and download dating apps on my phone and then delete them after a short time. It's an endless cycle.

Halloween was fun!

I met my friend's boyfriend of five years. They are just the cutest quiet, shy couple ever. I met my other friend's boyfriend too. He's cute but they're awkward together. They're a newer couple of only a month, so they're still sorting things out.

I also met lots of fun people at this halloween party. My friends have awesome friends.

Here it is again, Sunday morning. I have homework to do and I don't want to do it. My neck hurts and I just wanna go back to sleep. It's my own fault, I haven't done yoga in a while. I should do it today..

Also, our VPA department had a Día de los Muertos celebration last night, it was great. Hot chocolate, pan dulce, Aztec dancers, altares and of course calaveras de azúcar. I love looking in on other cultures. Okay, probably yoga? Then breakfast. Then homework, then laundry today. 

I've decided

Being in a romantic relationship is no good for me. I fall too hard and fast.

Plus, I treat myself really well. I exercise, I love myself the way I am, I feed myself a lot, and I take myself out.

My plan now is to just buy a dildo and shut the hell up. I always fall for people who don't want to date anyone. Well, don't want to date me.

Why push it? People aren't interested in being with me, and I can accept that. There are other things that are a much better use of my energy.

Colleges have great events!

It's Homecoming Week here at CSUMB! There will be sugar skull tutorials, a bonfire, a dance, a carnival, and a celebrity speaker! I'm super excited.

My friends, though, are butts. They're going home this weekend or "don't do" those kind of events. Laaame. I really want a date to the homecoming dance, but I'm going regardless. I stopped only going out with people a long time ago, haha.

Today I get to paint on the mural on campus! And the guy in charge was nice enough to leave the section I was working on blank. I get to contribute! Yaaay. Great experience and great for artistic résumés.

Life is pretty great.

This weekend has been amazing

Friday
I had no class. I went to my business professor's office hour to ask for help, then to open studio to butcher this painting of my grandma for Día de los Muertos. At 5:15 I was at the library waiting for Alejandro to take me to Open Mic Night, which was amazing. We had lots of performers, original songs, raps and spoken words. My co-host was this really cute guy named Alejandro. After that, we went to salsa night at our on-campus club type thing. That was awesome, there were professional dancers teaching moves, I found a guy from my class whom I danced with for a while. Then After that I followed him to my friend's house who's also in the same class. We were supposed to watch a movie, but we stayed up and watched funny youtube videos and talked for hours. I went to sleep at about 4:50am and when I woke up at around 9 I took the bus home.

Saturday
I mostly slept, I went to the store and bought cheese and milk for macaroni and cheese. The bus stopped running by the time I got there, so my new neighbors had to pick me up. That night we went to this October Feast our court was having.

Today
I woke up early and biked with Janee to the beach for her class assignment. After that, I biked to our on-campus library to do homework with Alejandro. We both got a lot done. I started to get the impression that he's like Pablo, My sister's ex-boyfriend. He flirted with every girl he met and slept with a lot of them. I don't think Alejandro's the type to sleep around, but he definitely seems flirty. He's on his phone a lot, which to me says he's texting girls. At the end of our homework session, another girl came in and he was going somewhere with her. I was uncomfortable, so I left. I invited both of them over, though, to play Cards Against Humanity, but they didn't show.

Still, I hung out with McKenzi (the girl whose house I slept over) and Victor (the guy from my class whom I danced with) and other art students. We talked about penises and vaginas, sex, dry spells, life, childbirth and I don't even remember what else. I know now, though, that I have new friends! And we're going to have a sleepover at my place next time (and actually watch a scary movie like we were supposed to). This weekend was awesome! I hope to have more like it.

Love is an airborne disease. Once it escapes my lips people go running.

They run and they don't look back

until they are lonely.

When they have nowhere else to turn

they come back as a last resort.

Love is a mystery

The people we think love each other

divorce

fight

punch

rape

abuse each other in the name of love.

So how do I know what it is

really?

How do I know when it's real?

Every time so far I've been wrong.

Been left empty, wet

with tears,

crumpled.

It happened so many

times that I begin to wonder if it's my fault.

what's wrong with me?

what did I do?

am I not right?

It wasn't me. It was you.

You made me feel special.

You made me feel like you really

loved me.

Like the fire between us

would burn

forever.

But while you pretended to

tend and kindle the fire,

you were really putting it out.

You were lighting other fires

tending them

comforting them

making sure they didn't go out.

Once "love" escapes my lips, people go running.

And they don't come back.

And though I know it's not true

I blame myself.

For believing in love in the first place.

Cute songs you should listen to:

Michael Bublé - Everything

Amos Lee - Sweet Pea

L-O-V-E - Nat King Cole

Lucky - Jason Mraz

The Way You Look Tonight - Maroon 5

And the love just keeps coming!

People today are just showering me in love and affection! Right when I need it. Today is amazing. 

I am ridiculously happy right now

Between talking to my mom and sister for 30min, my lady love being there for me and Tadpole being sympathetic to my day, I'm feeling pretty great right now.

In my class we had excellent discussions and I felt great having my opinions validated by my professor and my peers.

I was and am listening to Watsky, so I feel pretty great!

What was I sad for? I have great people in my life.

Great things are happening this week!

That was sarcasm. In addition to Patrick basically saying we don't have a future together, Darrin sent me text messages this morning saying we can't be best friends anymore. You remember Darrin. We dated for two years and then broke up and became friends? He's in a lot of my early posts.

He said talking to me is getting in the way of his relationship with Bree, and so "at least for now" we can't be friends. I'm understandably feeling quite shitty right now and haven't let myself cry yet, even though. I really want to between yesterday's and today's news.

Part of me doesn't want to be emotional about this. Part of me wants to say fuck them and move on with my life. That might be exactly what I try to do.

Once in high school, I broke up with my boyfriend and lost my best friends at the time. It feels just like that. I always seem to choose people that don't stick around, I wonder why. I have a lot to do today, so I think I'll have a good cry tonight, and tomorrow get all my shit done for the weekend.

I'm not gonna just be sad all weekend. If I finish all my homework by Sunday, I might take a trip somewhere, maybe Monterey. Maybe the aquarium! I haven't been yet.

I don't want this to get in the way of... Well anything really. Friends don't stay put, I should learn to accept that. And lovers/boyfriends/weird hybrids are even flakier.

I have other things on my mind. Like the orange Amineko I'm making and the wood circle and canvases I got from Dio, my Mixed Media professor. I should get these feelings onto a canvas.

I'm gonna try.

Impermanence

An important concept.

Nothing is forever.

Everything will crumble.

In wet tears.

In dry pain.

Some will cry.

Others solemnly acknowledge.

Nothing is forever.

I need to accept that.

The tattoos on my body will be with me my whole life, but will perish with my body.

My material possessions will not make me happy, I need to detach from them.

Love should come from me and go back to me.

Before I return to the energy I was created from, I want to help other people and create the best art I am able.

Neither will last but both make me happy, and so I will do them.

When my time is up, none of this will matter, I will have wasted time blogging about my life. 

Wasted time shaving, pretending, trying.

Nothing is forever.

I'm going to experience as much as I can with these small brown eyes and fees my curiosity with experiences.

Nothing is forever, so I'm going to enjoy the here and now.

Ouch

I texted Patrick today and he felt the need to reiterate that he doesn't want a relationship, and that he hopes he's not leading me on. I knew that already, I said that maybe in the future we could be together. He replied by saying he didn't know where he'd be in the future, could be Hawaii or Portland, Oregon. Weird thing to say to me.

Why introduce me as his girlfriend at all? Why introduce me to Baba and Melanie and speak about me as if we're dating?

I'm frustrated because I feel thrown aside. He 'misses me too' and 'likes and respects me' but is basically saying there won't be room in his life for me.

I don't know. Why write me that beautiful poem? "This spark will always be," was the last line. I feel that's untrue now.

I feel hurt and I'm not sure why I'm surprised. I always put too much into people and don't get enough back. It's just that... This time it felt like I was getting as much as I was giving.

Now I know, I can't trust myself when there's a guy involved. I can't be less me but I suppose I could take it slowly with whoever the next person is.

I'm heading to my neighbor's house. I really need to be surrounded by friends.

The second half of today

I feel so ugly, I didn't want to go outside. I had to, though, for Mixed Media

When I was with Patrick for those two weeks, I'd just smile at myself in the mirror. It was silly, I think, but I felt just so happy being with him. I don't do that anymore.

People look at me and stare at the hair on my face, under my chin, between my breasts and I feel self-conscious. It takes a lot to go out knowing people will look twice once they notice.

Being with Patrick was so great because he is very comfortable with himself and who he is. He likes who he is and he makes sure to love himself first, so he doesn't feel emasculated by me in any way.

Once again, I was forced to face the fact that Patrick is one of a kind, and that I will not find another like him no matter how hard I look.

Today I looked in the mirror and almost cried. It's probably my hormones, now that I think about it, seeing as how I almost cried watching The Office (an episode that wouldn't normally get to me).

So this may be a temporary feeling but right now it's real to me. I spend too much time looking in the mirror, judging myself based on societal standards. I don't want to waste time like that every day.

This feeling will go away tomorrow. I've gotten to the point were I feel comfortable showing off my hairy legs, no problem. My face is usually no problem. My underarms, chest, and stomach, however, depend on the day. But mostly I cover them up.

Yesterday at Big Sur, I forgot about everything and just had a greattime with   nature. I'm going to try to do that from now on, to busy myself with happy things so that I'll stop focusing on myself so much.

What is happening

Looking at pictures of Patrick gives me butterflies. I've forgotten how funny and attractice and romantic and sweet he is.

Today I couldn't believe he could be interested in little old me. He's so great and masculine and open-minded and amazing. It's hard for me to believe that he feels the way he does about me.

This has been in my phone for months

I have doubts but I realize they're ridiculous, so I push them out of my head.

i think something but don't say it aloud because it might be over the top and then he says exactly what I didn't.

he does something so strange, hilarious and awesome that I'm glad I'm with him.

he supports all of my dreams.


he makes me feel like the most special person in his life.

making him laugh makes me feel good.

I don't even notice what others think of us because he's making sexy chicken noises.

I forget about my flaws and see myself through his eyes.

I embrace my fears and know I can always face them with someone.

I feel heard and understood.

I feel that my feelings/emotions are respected.

The spirit that animates my body is more appreciated than my physical being.

I am happy.

No one else makes me feel like he does.

Not a single other person can make me feel that sexy, that beautiful so effortlessly.

It's not that he doesn't notice what I don't like about me, it's that he doesn't care.

He stares into my eyes, into my soul.

He reads my face carefully and can tell when my emotions change.

He cares for me and my safety, he respects every bit of me without question, of that I am certain.

And I miss him when we are apart.

How I crave his touch, his kiss.

How I miss his face being the first I see every morning and the last I see before I sleep.

Could this be love?

My Reading and Writing for Civic Literacy book is unbelievably amazing.

Here are some quotes I picked out from James Baldwin's letter to his nephew on the one hundredth anniversary of the end of slavery.

"You were born where you were born and faced the future that you faced because you were black and for no other reason."

"There is no reason for you to try to become like white people and there is no basis whatever for their impertinent assumption that THEY must accept YOU. The really terrible thing, old buddy, is that YOU must accept THEM. And I mean that very seriously. You must accept them and accept them with love. For these innocent people have no other hope."

"...we, with love, shall force our brothers to see themselves as they are, to cease fleeing from reality and begin to change it."

"You know, and I know, that the country is celebrating one hundred years of freedom one hundred years too soon. We cannot be free until they are free."

THE QUESTION I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!

Jhonny sent me this text message, "Hey so.. why dont you shave your body hair?" 

I was so excited that he asked! He's the first one to feel comfortable enough to actually ask (even though he did it via text message).

I explained that I feel more confident about myself now that I don't shave, and that it doesn't impact my life in a significant way, so I leave it.

He said it was weird for him, I understand. It's hard to break social norms and be okay with something when everyone around you is whispering in your ear that it's not okay.

I made sure to tell him that we didn't have to sleep together again if that made him uncomfortable, I would be fine just hanging out with him. That was the truth, he's a really interesting person. He asked about my agate necklace and said he believes in 'energy stuff'. I can tell he's had to defend that view before. I don't think he was surprised when I agreed though. He thought I was a rastafarian because of my dreadlocks.

A silly assumption if you ask me, but how would he know better? I politely explained that rastafarians reject western medecine and don't eat pork, shellfish or milk. And that sounds awful because I'm pretty sure that bacon, snow crab legs and goat cheese make the world go round.

Anyway, he told me that his dad is Iranian, I didn't ask about his mom because it doesn't really matter. He has an piece on his wall by an Iranian artist that his dad gave him. It's really cool. 

That whole text message interaction made me miss Patrick. I guess I took for granted how open-minded and accepting he is, I sort of expected that everyone should be like him.

I've been keeping a (sort of) poem in my phone about how he makes me feel. There were only two times in the 5 months that I've known him that he's hurt my feelings, and both times were inadvertent. (Far less than past relaionships, which is why I bring it up.)

Maybe sometime I'll post the poem. It's shitty in my opinion, but whatever.

Beauty is always where I least expect it.

Yesterday

I hung out with Jhonny. It was fun, we played this awful weird amazing game he has at on his computer. It's the most awful thing. This little boy tries to escape his demented, religious mom by fleeing into the basement where he has to fight monsters with his tears. It is so sad/amazing. After that there was this awkward silence that led to (content removed for awesome and explicit sexual nature). After that was over I helped him scrub food off of some dishes and then we sat outside and talked for a little while. He smoked a cigarette while I talked, disgusting.

We talked about a book he had that reminded me of Patrick. It was a book saying how a man should be a warrior, magician, leader(?) and lover. I'm pretty sure it's a transition book from boyhood to manhood. Patrick is really in to those, one of the many things I love about him. He's about bettering himself in any and every way possible.

Anyway, I left Jhonny's place around 4 since he was leaving at 5 to spend the weekend with his best friend (because he's newly single and obviously needs loved ones around). I felt bad once I thought about what happened. He just became single five days ago and we there I went. I had sex with someone about a week or two after I broke up with Darrin and I shouldn't have. That is the only time (except perhaps this time) that I regretted having sex. I wasn't into it and at one point I was staring blankly into his face. My mind was not in the right place for me to have been having sex. I was missing Darrin but feeling like that was sort of what I wanted, so I shouldn't complain. It was awful.

I feel like that's what happened with Jhonny. At one point I looked at him and he was staring at the ceiling. Because he noticed I was looking, afterward he felt the need to explain it.

Of course this could just be my interpretation of what happened.

The game he was playing is called The Binding of Isaac. It is seriously messed up, haha. Still, it's great. Play it if you wish.

Well, I have to return to the multitude of homework I have. Until next time.

Remember my post on 5/14/14?

I was wondering what would happen if Jhonny was single. Well, he is now. Just happened a few days ago. I offered to listen if he felt like talking, he said he might take me up on that.

I told him more than I intended (the problem with me texting) last night/early this morning. I told him that I'd blogged about him and basically that I like him and find him attractive. He said he feels the same way, which surprised me.

Because he was so happy with his ex girlfriend, I thought I made up the unspoken connection we shared. He told me he felt like he'd met me before, that we spent time together previously and that he could talk to me.

That's huge because I think that means we were meant to be in each other's lives in some way or another, even if just as friends. That happened only once to me in the third grade when I met Bria. She was so amazing and I knew her from somewhere, but I didn't know where. Another life maybe.

Anyway, this mutual attraction is exciting me more than it probably should. He's so nice to me, not to mention gorgeous. He's tall, muscular and his hair is long. I love guys with long hair but I've never met one before. 

So that's interesting.

I'm going home this weekend and might hang out with him tomorrow! I'm so nervous because I have no idea what to wear or what I should do/bring. My heart is beating faster just thinking about being physically close to him. Holy crap.

Ketchup

So I moved in to my dormpartment at California State University Monterey Bay on August 22nd, today is September 10th of the same year 2014. College life is amazing. Being independent and taking care of myself (somewhat) is refreshing.

My roommates are best friends which is awkward for me. They have a long history together so there's really no room for me in their lives, except as a roommate. They're sweet, but I wish I would've been roomed with two strangers. 

I have huge gaps in my schedule, so I go home and cook lunch every day. It's great! I'm eating mostly fresh food every day. (I usually boil potatoes for the week because they take a long time to cook.) 

I'm really good friends with my neighbor Orlando. He lives like two dormpartments down from me, so we hang out a lot. He slept over my place once, we talked until four in the morning. Who does that? We were so tired the next day.

You know me, there's a guy. His name is Austin, he's in my radio show class. He doesn't know this, but when I first saw him I was hooked. Something about his face. He looks Native American, maybe latino but I'm not sure. He has neck-legnth hair which I LOVE. I love guys with long hair but I've never been able to be romantic with one.

If romantic is even the right word. He bikes to my place sometimes and spoons me while we watch Sherlock or Archer or whatever. But he's usually busy, so we don't see each other that often.

I found the courage to kiss him, he responded, "You're cool." I like him, he's a simple soul. He plays a lot of sports (although he's not muscular) and listens to trap music. He's fun to hang out with.

I want to go to the U.K. next semester, but it's a LONG process. I went to an info session and obviously it's better to apply as soon as possible. I'm gonna start (and hopefully finish) it this weekend. It would be really exciting to study in another country!

I don't have a job which sucks, but I want to join an on-campus club or local organization where I can do some volunteer work. Just school isn't enough in my schedule. I am overall really happy! 

I make friends every week it seems like and college is a great place to do that. There are so many campus activities and dances, it's filled with activity. Now all I have to do is get involved! I'll let you know how it goes.

Formal goodbye.

I'll never forget

I walked passed a young man on the way to my art class. He was so obviously optimistic and had such a weird, silly face that when I smiled at him and he smile back at me, it made me smile even harder.

That was days ago and I barely remember his face, but I remember the silliness of his genuine smile that he was kind enough to bestow on a stranger.

I hope I pass by that young man again so that I can see him smile again, and smile back at him. 

Strange that a smile from someone unknown to me could brighten my mind and spirit for days.

"What do you want?" "To exist..." (A line from Van Helsing)

Existing is beautiful.

I've heard many people say they don't want to bring a child into this world because it's screwed up. 

But to exist is such a gift!

We get to see the magnificent plants and animals that inhabit this world and enjoy socializing with each other.

Yes there is death, hate, maliciousness in the world.

To me, though, the love, beauty, art, expression and knowledge we've aquired makes it all worthwhile.

We are beautiful.

We are alive!

We smile.

We hurt.

We live and we die.

But the short time we're here, I think, is beautiful.

Blogging from Downtown Long Beach, CA

I've been here for five days now and I love Long Beach. (Surprisingly, there are lots of blacks and latinos here.) I expected Long Beach to be mostly white. I love the weather here. When the sun goes away, so does the heat. When the sun is out, it's beautiful. Palm trees sway lazily in the breeze while homeless people push carts across the street and hipsters bike around, showing off their colorful glasses, strange haircuts and curled mustaches. Down some streets are the cutest vintage shops I've ever seen, delicious restaurants and bike racks worth taking touristy pictures near.

Patrick and I walked around a lot. By the beach, down streets, everywhere. I haven't been exploring by myself just yet. Some parts of Long Beach are isolated (and therefore dangerous) at night. My brain is keeping me from exploring those areas, even in the daytime. Still, I may visit the beach on my own. Look back into the shops I saw. Perhaps buy a vintage dress to take back with me.

Most of my time here has been spent making coiled bowls, actually. They take a ridiculously long time, but I enjoy quiet, lengthy activities.

Patrick and I attract attention when we walk, holding hands. Some stares and angry looks, some smiles and once a thumbs up. Strange how the past affects us even now. It's almost silly how a white male and black female elicit such strong emotion from some by simply walking down the street.

Long Beach is a very plural place. There is night life for those who desire it, also yoga and the beach, stores filled with characters and treasures long forgotten. I've never considered Southern California a place I may want to live, but as of now, I'm officially interested.

Let's play catch up. Readysetgo!

My cousin and Tadpole are gone. I was sad to see them go, but like a band-aid, I didn't want to do it slowly. We went to Wendy's for breakfast (I know. Shut up.) and then we drove back. I kicked both of them out so no tears would be shed.

Tadpole texts me every day since. He really wants to be my boyfriend. If I'd met him before Patrick, there'd be no question! I'd date him in a heartbeat. He's hilarious and awesome, he makes me laugh all day long and he respects my personal space.

But because of what Patrick and I share, I can't put anyone else before him. It sucks for anyone who happens to be interested in me, because they can't be anything more than second best. That's a terrible thing to say, I know, but it's true.

Patrick and I connected immediately on a completely spiritual level, he's the first and only person I can say that about. Not that there's a problem with warming up to people, but Patrick just fits well with me. He also inspires me to be the person I want to be and supports me where I need it most (in addition to everywhere else).

Saturday at 2pm I'll be reunited with him! I cannot wait. I'm gonna take pictures, if I remember. When I'm with him I just enjoy life. I forget about my phone completely and disconnect, it's so nice.

Besides that, this is my last week of camp! I'm so sad. I'd post pictures of my campers, but that is strictly prohibited. However, I do have a lovely quote from a camper. The first day he comes to camp after crying for 30min, he tells my co-worker that 'when he rides his bike it tickles his penis'. You're welcome.

I brought home raffia from camp!! It would've been thrown away otherwise, so I took it. I wove a basket last night, it's so cute!! There are my christmas presents! And I want to crochet some scarves. Who knows if I'll have the time to make both happen though. But I am super excited.

Monterey is happening! I'm packing already, feeeeelin' good! I'm excited, but I have to pack lots of things first. And one of my roommates is moving into our storage space so I have to pack my clothes in easily collapsible containers. No complaints, though. Moving is exciting!

This is the first time I remember moving somewhere of my own choice! I'll be more excited when I get there, though. 

That's about it! Oh, I wore a shirt I hate for team color day. I hate it because it HALF shows my armpits. I've been going full armpit or none at all for a while, so I was frustrated and feeling self-conscious half my armpit being out, strangely.

We ran around a lot today, I'm tired.

All of the crazies!

(From left) my cousin, me, Nelly (back) and Tadpole (front). We had so much fun that day just derping around. The base really sucks, they couldn't wait to get off of it. I get why, we don't want people joining the army to be treated like royalty, but still. Better food would be nice.

Tween hair

When I was about 13 I remember crying to my mom telling her how ugly I felt because of all the hair I had that no one else had on their bodies. Down my chest and around my nipples. Who would ever find me attractive? No one, I thought. I remember a separate occasion years before that where kids would laugh at me because my underarms were hairy. Another separate occasion, my first ingrown hair under my arm from shaving.

Doing this no shaving thing feels really good to young Axanti. Just the fact that I can go out and still feel pretty and feminine without shaving makes me eager to accept and love myself the way I am. It feels really good. Anyone reading this, male or female, masculine or feminine, shaving only matters to the shallow. Someone who really cares about you won't turn their back just because you haven't shaved. Sure, they'll look. They may stop once or twice, but that's not what's important to them. They care about YOU.

I'm not shaving again. It's a waste of time and money and makes me feel anxious in public. I don't like feeling like I have to check to make sure I shaved correctly. Make sure I got every last hair, make sure I try and try and try to get my legs to be perfect. I don't like prickly legs either. The nice thing about having long leg hair is that it's not prickly. I rub my legs and feel mostly just my legs. I barely feel the hair, although it's jet black and is quite visible on my legs.

Why conform? No one can make me feel bad about not shaving except for me. Yes, people will stare. Yes, some people will decide against associating with me because I don't shave, but who really cares? I'm soo close to not giving a shit anymore and focusing on what's important in my life. So very close. As soon as I can push society out of the way so that I can take a step into the clear meadow that is my life, I can just go for a stroll.

If that makes sense.

Another (maybe the last) Shaving Journal post

Today I wore a tank top-y dress with my hairy underarms! Tadpole noticed and didn't say anything. Not in an awkward way, but in an "Oh. Moving on!" kind of way.

We threw a hacky sack back and forth, me and 5 other people, and I remembered my armpits and then I forgot them! I had so much fun! It really doesn't matter whether I shave or not! I'm happy with myself the way I am.

I may never shave again. It really isn't a big part of my life.

Now, the guy.

Then His name I'll keep confidential, just because he doesn't know I blog. His name in my phone is Tadpole.

My cousin Coty joined the army 2 years ago. I haven't seen him in 4 years. He told me two weeks ago he was in Dublin. This past Saturday, I went to the base to meet this friend of his, Tadpole.

Tadpole, Coty and I walked around the base and talked and whatnot. Tadpole was cool, good for conversation. He came home with us, so on the way home he called shotgun.

On the way home I was thinking, "I could be friends with this guy." We have sort of the same taste in music, so on the way home we played the guessing game. He put on a song and I had to guess the artist. When that song from Shrek came on we both sang it to see who could get the most words right. It was a tie.

We stopped at WalMart before we went home. At this point I knew I liked Tadpole. We walked by some feather boas and he put one on. Then so did Coty! And I did too, haha. Tadpole messed around with us, bopped me on the head with a pool noodle, fun stuff.

When we got home, he talked to my mom about medical professions. We went swimming and he did the most hilarous things with Coty. And picked me up and threw me back in the pool. And put a pool noodle between my legs.

We played Cards Against Humanity and he played a card that said "My black ass." So my parents started calling him Tad's Black Ass. We watched movies and I put my number in his phone. He took a bunch of pictures with mine.

We texted each other during the movie, started talking about sex. We both really wanted each other, but couldn't do anything about it.

So we went to the park with Coty and had so much fun. Coty hid my shoes and then Tadpole carried me on his back to find them. He also walked in my shoes after Coty hid his shoes. We got on the little pony ride things for little kids, it was strange and awesome.

While we were walking back we decided to just lay down and look at the stars. With Tadpole, this is so much fun. We found boobs, a heart that was really conjoined ice cream cones. 

We went back home and watched the Rocky Horror Picture show and then sex actually happened! However at the end my mom came looking for me and now my parents are upset.

My sister and Coty understand, thank god. I really like him and I'm glad we shared such a beautiful day and night. That's about all! :)

Wednesday, July 23rd

The first day my hairy underarms returned to the world! I wore a non-camp shirt today to camp, so if my arms were up, hair was visible.

Nothing really happened! A few people's heads turned when my arms were up, but because everyone has seen my legs, it wasn't a huge shocker.

This is giving me confidence! I can be my natural self and go about my day, contrary to popular belief. I don't think I'll ever buy a razor (for myself) again! 

Also, because I stopped shaving an plucking everywhere, I was quite surprised when a certain someone gave me an oral presentation. I'll talk about him in a later post.

The hair under my chin and jawline still makes me stop and take a second look sometimes when I'm in the mirror. I'm hoping that eventually I can get to the point where it doesn't bother me at all.

I want to be okay with my natural self. 

Baby steps will hopefully add up to grown-up steps.

Leg hair

Isn't that bad. I'm way less itchy and my time in the shower is a lot shorter!

Thinking about my future, I don't want to shave or pluck anything ever again.

Because I want to be comfortable with my natural, beautiful self.

Because how can I say, "We're perfect the way we are," and then alter my perfect body?

Yeah. I think I might embrace my hairy self forever!

I just heard this on the radio

How can I forget you girl,

When there's always something there to remind me?

always something there to remind me?

I was born to love you, 

but I will never be free, 

you'll always be a part of me.

I think what happens is when one meets the person that fits with them perfectly, they lose interest in others.

Sure, intercourse with another may be fun but it'll never be like it was with that person. 

Sure, you could laugh and joke with other people, but they wouldn't get and wouldn't care about the whole sexy chicken thing.

Yeah, someone else could kiss you but they'd never give you butterflies like he did when he'd randomly kiss you.

And yeah. I guess I could find someone else if I wanted to. Have a relationship and be intimate, but it wouldn't be anything like being with Patrick. 

His presence like a flower realizing the sunlight. It unfolds and sways in the beams of light.

No one can escape the beauty of his warmth. So comfortable with himself that all others feel comfortable around him.

Kind, honest.

Silly with wisdom far beyond his years.

I guess I really like him, huh?

Beach day with my lovely friend Jessie!

Today

Was my first day wearing my strapless yellow dress without shaving my underarms or plucking any hairs, and it wasn't bad!

I didn't cover up my legs or underarms or chest or neck, and no one noticed. While in Safeway, an older gray-haired man even said he liked my hair! (I'm sure he meant my dreads).

Today was a success. The most embarrassing parts of my body were on display and drew no attention! (Or at least I wasn't aware of any.) 

Hair is not as big a deal as we make it! Our social construct makes all of us believe that being hairless is associated with femininity and having hair is unattractive. An old boyfriend asked me if I shave under my arms, because he found underarm hair unattractive.

We don't even realize the forces that influence our thinking and our preferences in a mate, that's the crazy part!

We've been conditioned to hate morning breath and the smell of someone who's sweaty and the natural hair that grows on our bodies.

So much of our natural selves are covered up on a daily basis with deodorant, toothpaste, razors, and makeup. Now I question what makes me feel so badly about being hairy, yet feminine.

Why should I care if someone doesn't want to date me or associate because of my hair? So what if people stare?

On tv shows and in movies, the women that are hairy are old or made fun of. Old movies like Juana man and new ones like The Croods. I can tell that people like my face, my smile, my personality.

Those that do ignore my hair. Patrick would even kiss it, as if he knew I needed to know that he appreciates all of me.

India Aire says in one of her songs, "I am

not my hair, I am not this skin. I am the soul that lives within." I, too, am not my hair or my black skin. I am my own unique person, whose soul and actions define her and not her physical appearance.

This is only week 1 or 2 of 10 and I already feel much better about myself! I can't wait for week 10.

My non-shaving, non-plucking 1st post

I wish my leg hair would be long already. I'm tired of the length it's at right now, it just looks like I've been forgetting to shave for the past couple days.

Because I've been in my Camp Galileo shirt almost all this week, no one but me has noticed the length of my underarm hair, but I'm sure that'll be fun.

I did have one camper, though, that liked sitting in front of me because she liked how prickly my legs felt. (Of course that's inappropriate, so I didn't let her continue.)

Some of my co-workers have noticed my legs, but they either look away or look at my face for the most part.

Since Patrick is gone, no one sees my chest hairs, which I am totally fine with. They're embarrassing and I wish I didn't have them. However, I'm hoping that by the end of these 10 weeks I'll be more comfortable with my body in its natural, hairy state.

I talked to Patrick

On the phone for an hour last night. It was so very good catching up with him. Even through the phone, he was as silly as I remember! It made me so very happy, even though things got weird really quickly (like they always do, it's awesome).

He is living in the most amazing place I have ever heard of! I can't wait to visit him. In fact, I hope that the first official day(s) off in August will be spent with him.

I really miss him. Like he said, "we fit together." 

I cannot wait to see him again! Ugh, he's so amazing in every way. My mom and dad looked really confused and curious when I answered the phone. I'm not sure if he said "hey, sweet lady," or "hey, pretty lady," but it made me smile, and knowing that our conversation would get weird, I went to my room.

I told him about Camp Galileo (which is awesome) about my nephew, my mom, my cousin (who's in town), and we also had some pretty awesome conversations.

I told him about the first time I saw him, where I keep the amazing poem he wrote me, about many random things, and we had a blast (yes best friend, I'm saying "blast" now). 

It's Friday which means I can sleep all I want tonight and wake up whenever tomorrow! I'm excited for that too! And away we go, pshhhhhh!

I'm still missing Patrick, but the poem he wrote me helps soo much.

Except when I can't read where it's taped to my wall, I feel all of this pent-up affection that I want to give.

When Patrick was here, I could kiss him, hold his hand, sit on his lap, and now... Well I guess I'm going through withdrawl. I'm so used to touching him, following the grain of his hairs on his arms and chest, sleeping half on top of him.

I feel like I have all of this love inside me that's building up. It's meant for Patrick but it really wants to get out. Sometimes it comes out in tears, like right now.

Other times I find myself wanting touch, craving it from anyone at all. For three months, I had physical stimulation. I think it'll help me miss Patrick a little less if I have some other kind of touch.

This weekend I'm going to spend the night with a friend. Hopefully we can be some sort of physical with each other, I really need it. 

Thoughts

I was thinking about one of my exes from high school who is also named Patrick (O).

He was an asshole and he knew it. Everyone knew we were together because I was so nice and he was so mean. 

I love the thought that one day, Patrick O. and every other mean boy that I met will grow up to be like my Patrick.

Kind, sweet, compassionate and so determined to help others. It really warms my heart that people could mature into such self-improving people like him.

I saw someone riding a bike today, the hunched-over kind like Patrick does. I really love that I have all these memories to visit, they keep me company.

10 weeks of no shaving, starting today!

(Singer Madonna)

Because why conform to society's ideals of beauty?

We've been conditioned to believe that the absence of hair is attractive, and that hair in certain places and in certain styles is unattractive.

Who decided that for us?

Who taught us that it's okay to make fun of people that don't shave?

Who told us that special occasions call for hairless legs and under arms?

I'm doing this to prove that society doesn't control what's considered beautiful on me, I do.

I'm doing this because I am beautiful exactly the way I am, without alteration.

And I might just stop shaving forever, because I'm so much more than the hair on my body.

The story that inspired me: https://asunews.asu.edu/20140703-body-shaving#.U7gk07tzEEg.twitter .

Dogs from yesterday!

Penny, the sweetest little dog ever! I want her.

Zeeba, veddy cute also!

Katana? Whom my dad is trying to adopt without my mother's knowledge.

Patrick: out of sight, always on my mind.

Yesterday/this morning from 11:40 to about 1am, I was thinking about random things, like how he'd kiss my back and shoulders while I lay on my stomach. How nice his mustache feels-or felt-on my skin.

One day while we rode the bus to his place, he put down his book, leaned over, pecked me on the lips and continued reading.

I miss waking up to him, even though we never slept well together. He sleeps on his back and I sleep on my stomach, so we'd separate during the night and feel uncomfortable, then wake up and scoot closer together again. It was kind of funny. We seem to fit together (as he once said) so well, except that we could not sleep comfortably.

On the way home I turned the radio off and just smiled at the memories of him that I can visit anytime.

Eating at Chipotle while waiting for my sister to get off work, talking about what celebrities we find attractive. That day, he told me the two things that irritate him more than anything else.

Those thoughts kept me company on the long drive home, right now I'm thinking of different ones.

Oversleeping once and waking up to find out he'd made both of us breakfast.

The first time he rolled over on his side and kissed me sweetly, his hand behind my left ear. Then he stopped, smiled at me, and then went back to looking at the sky. I wanted a thousand more.

The way we talked about anything and everything.

Once I wondered aloud how plants feel when the sun goes down.

B-kawk!

Cha. chee cha. Chee cha. Chee cha! Coo coo kacha! Coo coo kacha!

Oh, I miss him.

Not just the sweet and romantic things, his company and conversation.

I thought it would be awkward for me to visit him, especially because I'm about 90% sure he'll be in some sort of relationship by the next time I see him, but I realized just now that I don't care about that as much.

I really am ecstatic that he exists at all. A gentleman that pulls out my chair for me and then pushes it in when I sit down. A warm, open presence and a kind, young soul.

I can't wait to see him again.

Patrick was on my mind today. As I lay in my bed, I remembered he was in Long Beach at that very moment. Enjoying the weather, probably reading, maybe planning his next blog post.

It's a strange thought. That we're both existing at the same time in different places. Carrying on in life but looking forward to being together again. Like water in different cycles. 

Perhaps at one point our molecules were side by side in the ocean. Because he was above me, he evaporated into the atmosphere and spent his days basking in the sun as a big, puffy cloud.

I swam around and explored all the seven seas, shallow and deep waters. Eventually winter will come to be, and he will rain back down to the Earth. He will run through streets and down sewers until he gets back to the ocean.

He will also tour the seven seas until we stumble upon each other once more. Now we will sink lower into the ocean so that we won't evaporate away from each other. We'll stick together like the water molecules we are and spin around together until we are harvested, purified and used to help another life.

If that makes sense.

Penny, the nice kitten

Today was awesome!

Gil, one of Patrick's friends invited me to a potluck at the Historical Rose Garden in San José. We had so much fun, and the garden itself was so captivating! We walked through it as a group, just admiring and enjoying the beauty.

I had so much fun, I only took one picture! Really unlike me, especially where roses are involved. So we all ate, one girl cooked/made a lot of things. Quiche, a fig-dessert-pie thing, apricot iced tea, and cucumber-kiwi-mint popsicles. Those were a work of art!

We played Cards Against Humanity which didn't disappoint, then a non-baseball type of baseball with an extremely small, skinny bat and a tennis ball. I was told it's supposed to be played drunk, we're supposed to swing with one hand and hold a beer in the other. Even though I wore my maxi skirt, I had a fun time playing. (Note to self, having fun is more important than looking cute. Today I did both but I think shorts and a t-shirt are good for fun.)

One of the girls brought her dog who ran around in circles around her. We all jumped over the leash like a Skip-It. Dogs are freaking amazing. Today was freaking amazing. I was happy to be outside and even happier to be doing things with people. People that I was meeting for the first time that welcomed me and enjoyed my company. It was like Patrick's Sushi party all over again! Nerve-racking at first and then amazing.

I really enjoyed not thinking about anything but the games we played, the food we ate and the awkward conversations about rage boners, testicular torsions and other inappropriate Cards Against Humanity topics. Really really fun day. I should do this more often!

Re-reading my other blog post has made me realize that no matter what, Patrick is and was the b-kawk! to my sexy chicken. Although I wasn't happy with some aspects of our relationship, I still feel deeply for him and I think he feels the same way. Also, I should have communicated about the things that made me uncomfortable, instead of keeping them inside like I always do. Well hopefully in the future I'll be able to communicate better so that if Patrick and I do get the chance to be together again I can prevent these feelings of regret.

Ugh. I know I've said this a million times and that he's only been gone one day, but fuck nuts I miss him already. I should keep a list of all the clothes I cried into and wiped my nose on. So far I'm at two shirts and a washcloth. Well, at least I know he exists. He's surfing probably right now, reading books and eating eggs with sweet potatoes for breakfast. I actually feel a little better now, remembering the times we spent together.

Something sort of strange is that we couldn't sleep well together. We'd start out great, comfortable, then wake up two or three times, then back to sleep and wake up less than refreshed. What I like about it though is that sometimes I'd roll over on my side and he would spoon me back to sleep. As soon as he woke up, he'd get water and then make us breakfast.

That reminds me, I still owe him fish tacos! We made some and he said they sounded delicious, so I offered to make him some and completely forgot. If he still wants me to visit him, I'll make them for him then. With Salmon, because he loves it.

Blogging really helps me reflect, it's a shame that so often I forget to do it.

Camp Galileo! (And soreness)

Funny thing, I woke up today (technically yesterday) so very sore. My biceps, trapezius and lower back were killing me. I thought I must've slept in a strange way (also I hadn't been in my own bed since Wednesday night, today [yesterday] is Sunday [Monday]).

Once I thought about it, no wonder I was sore! On Saturday we unloaded all of our supplies for the entire summer and put them into classrooms. We decorated so many things and organized extensively for camp on Monday. Originally, I thought I was to be working starting tomorrow (today), but because of low enrollment in my age group (pre-k) two other girls and myself won't be needed for the first week.

That stinks just a little bit because I am SUPER EXCITED to start! I love kids and I get to work with them literally ALL SUMMER LONG, I cannot wait. But, I suppose this week off can be good. I can prepare and over prepare for my campers, plan activities, games, transitions, etc.

Just on set-up day, I was recognized constantly for my fast, efficient, independent work. One of our area directors came to our camp and even she learned my name quickly because she kept hearing it from others about the great job I was doing. This makes me happy because unlike my job at Great America where everyone was pat on the back for doing one person's work, we are individually recognized for our contributions to the team effort, which boosts moral and helps us build community.

We have team color and spirit days! My color is orange! (Which made me think of Patrick. He told me that a woman saw his aura as orange. Which is strange, because orange is the color I chose for myself...) I'm thinking of making my team the Orange Carrots or something fun. Maybe just "Carrots," sounds nicer.

Either way, I am extremely excited for camp and cannot wait to begin! The camp's goal is to teach kids of all ages how to innovate and that failure is a good thing. It's designed to help them create projects that might include failure and to show them that perseverance is what counts.

What we hope will stick is that the kids learn to be visionary, courageous, collaborative, determined and reflective. And that they learn the innovator's approach, which includes testing, evaluating, redesigning and testing ideas/machines. I hope to really drive that home, because that's what the takeaway should be; that it's okay to fail and that innovation works and is awesome. I am stoked to make a difference this summer at Camp Galileo. I will conclude my Miss America Speech with "... and world peace."

Patrick is gone.

I'm hurt.

Although I still do the things that make me happy, he creeps into my mind when I least expect it. Laying on the floor watching Orange is the New Black it hit me. I was on my stomach, my palm face down by my head. The same way it is when I lay on top of him. My hand would be on his chest, following the grain of his hair up to his neck.

When that moment was over I was hurt again. On the inside. Knowing that he's just gone. And now that he is gone, my mind goes everywhere. Wonders how after only two months my heart doesn't appear my own.

Though our relationship was sexually open, I wonder about the romantic side. He kissed someone else, before he left. But he wrote me this beautiful poem about the spark between us, and how it will always be there.

Now that he's gone I'm starting to question if his feelings for me were true. (This is why long distance doesn't work for me, my brain does thinky things.) I wonder if he really likes who I am now or the idea of who I could be when I'm his age. Of course when he was here, I had no question. It was obvious.

He was proud to tell people that I was his girlfriend, complemented and kissed me in front of people, made me feel just so special. The thought of him making someone else feel that way churns my stomach. The friend he kissed saw us holding hands, must have known we were together, but didn't care.

I'm busying myself with things to try to keep my mind off of him and my tears on my eyeballs where I need them to be. I also want to busy myself to get rid of these feelings. I'm so confused. While I feel I might love Patrick, I reject the thought so much. I've said this before, been here before. I always seem to look back on past relationships and disagree with my actions and words. The picture is me, trying to hold myself together.

I heard somewhere that love is struggling to accept someone exactly as they are right now. But what if I'm always struggling to do that and the other person never is?

I'm still confused. At the same time that I can see a future with him, I feel that he's hurt me. And I suppose I blog about it because I can't bring myself to call him. I already know what he'll say. "I like you, you know that."

"I can see a future with you also."

"That's silly. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"We agreed we'd have a type of open relationship."

I realized that's not what I want. When I saw Patrick for the first time, something locked in place. Our eyes fixed on each other and for a 100 year split second, we were frozen. That has never happened to me before. It wasn't his looks that caught me, it was him. It was as if I was looking at his personality first, and his outward appearance second.

I miss Patrick, if you can't tell. I'm saying and feeling so many things because I need to get them all out. Right now I can't think clearly. I can't get into my bed at night without remembering him. I think of him often and miss him constantly. To make matters worse, my best friend has been missing in action since yesterday, when I really needed to talk and cry to him.

I needed to get all of this out because these feelings aren't going anywhere. They appear and then nag me and fester inside of me. I want to move on and find someone else to distract me but at the same time I know that would be pointless and hurtful to that person because Patrick is my long-term plan. When I'm ready to settle down, it'll be with him.

I'm afraid, though. That he'll want to "settle" in another open relationship. That he's just the kind of person that isn't satisfied with only one sexual/romantic partner. That I have these serious feelings and plans, and that he doesn't feel them as intensely.

Not that it would be better if he felt the way I do. I'd say it would be worse, actually. That he may feel the way I do, as intensely as I do, and still feel that I'm not enough. That sexually, romantically, age-wise, I'm not enough. He wants more than I can possibly offer.

I don't know if I will believe what I'm saying tomorrow, or the day after that, but right now this is real to me. I miss him, and I'm sad. And I might love him, which makes me sadder. And he might not feel the same way, which deepens my sadness. And he may feel the same way I do, which deepens it more.

No matter what, we'll be away from each other for at least 4ish years, in which time he'll find someone new.

I don't want to do another long distance relationship, but I don't want to date anyone else but him. This whole situation makes my stomach hurt. 3:29am Monday morning and I can't get this out of my head.

I suppose the bottom line is I miss him, and there's nothing I can do about that.

Just thinking.

I want to see diversity in the media in every category. I want to see different ethnicities, different body types, different fashion sense, no fashion sense, everything. Yes, I want to see a tall skinny model but I also want to see a plus-size model and a plus-size average Jane. I want to see girls with clear skin and girls with acne, girls with perfect teeth and ones with braces, girls with curly hair and straight hair, red hair and black hair, green eyes and brown eyes. The world presents this contrast to us everywhere but we don't see it on tv and I just wonder why...

Milo

Such a weird dog. He just stares at us sometimes. When we talk to him he looks us right in the eye, like he's trying will all of his might to understand what we're trying to say.

He's also really silly. Still a puppy, he prances around and when he sees us, wags his stubby little tail and beckons us to pet him with his paws.

One thing I like about him is that sometimes when we go to the park, he doesn't really want to play but sit in the shade, eat some grass and enjoy the day.

He reminds me of the Red Doberman ee had before, Dou Akai Anthony. He was just the sweetest little dog, my stinky butt. When we took him to the park he'd run forever, no matter if it was 60° or 100° outside.

In the cold Philadelphia winters he would run through, pee in, and eat the snow that surrounded him.

I loved that dog.

When he was a puppy, not wanting to give him a cage, my parents tied his leash to the back door. Every night he'd sleep on the hard kitchen floor. I'd wake up early most mornings and sleep with him to keep him warm.

My dad would get up to make breakfast and find me asleep with our puppy on the kitchen floor. I miss him so much.

Some people don't like animals. I don't think they understand the deep connection two souls have with one another. I even show my plant affection because I realize it's alive. It breathes and feels something.

I also want to crochet doilies and sweaters for trees. Just because, they give us oxygen and we take their lives for granted. And even the life of a tree should be valued and considered.

I guess this is a good place to stop for today.

I can't wait for Patrick to go home!

But I don't want him to go.

Strange that someone I'd just met could have just a lasting impression on me, but that's exactly what's happened.

I've been trying to keep a lot inside. There is so much I keep from him, because my brain just blurts things out. I feel like once he's gone, my brain will stop saying things.

I don't want him to go, but I really want him to. He's the best everything and compliments me so well. We have fun together and we also talk about everything under and over the sun.

We're good company for one another and have a great time in a group as well as by ourselves.

I'm still going to wait until Patrick's in Long Beach to openly blog about every thought running through my head. They're irrelevant and will do no one any good right now.

Still though, I find myself wondering what it'll be like once he's gone. No one else understands the sexy chicken thing we do. No one dances that awful, amazing, dorky, cute dance that he does whenever good music plays.

No one looks at me the way he does. Adoration in his eyes and a smile on his face. No one reads me like he does. He doesn't mind being protective of me or showing other people how he feels about me.

He laughs at my silliness and walks with his arm around me. Sometimes, he randomly strokes my leg and then squeezes it before letting go. 

We don't text often, but when we do he always has something sweet to say to me and always wants to know how my day is going.

I want him to be the standard for my future relationships, but at the same time I realize that's unfair because no one can live up to that standard. He's one of a kind. Compassionate, silly, honest, adventurous, spiritual, mature and just so patient.

I'm glad I met him. I didn't know people could be so fantastic. No matter what happens in the next two weeks to five years, I have memories abd experiences I can cherish, some through this blog.

I feel like in Patrick I've found my other half, and just knowing he exists makes me happy enough to want to carry on alone with confidence (although I hope that we remain at least friends for the rest of our lives). Patrick is the most fun person I've ever met besides myself and my sister. He's gonna have to keep me company now; us weirdos have to stick together

I'm getting sleepy now and am starting to talk in circles. Cues for bedtime!

Good news today! (yesterday, and previously)

First, I found out that I have housing for fall 2014 when I'll be attending CSUMB! Second, I added my roommates, they seem pretty nice and know each other already. Third, I'm frickin graduating this month and I have an awesome summer job with Camp Galileo where I'll be working with kindergarten-age kids! Not only that, I'll be making good money, so I can pay back the $900 I owe my mom and start saving for college! (No tattoos this summer, unfortunately. Even though I have a half sleeve planned out.)

Things are looking great. Darrin is living with his new girlfriend Bree and his mom in an apartment and they're getting along well. My grandfather still has cancer, but supposedly he's not doing too badly. My grandma found out she has cataracts and is going to get them removed quite soon. My older sister is finally thinking of moving out of North Carolina to a more open-minded area. My younger sister has a job at Chipotle that she very much likes, and my mom is being awesome as usual, hard at work and preparing to launch back into her PhD program. Patrick is (hopefully) packing things up and getting ready to go back home with his family in SoCal, and my friend Easten is healing nicely and out of the hospital, although he looks like a raw sausage.

I actually had a dream about him. He was at a table drawing with me? Or something. Oh, and I was just thinking how I should've offered to rub lotion on his skin. Just to give him a break and help him feel relaxed. Also because touch helps the healing process so much, especially when someone does it out of the kindness of their heart and not out of obligation, and I want to do that for him to help him heal faster. For some reason I feel such a deep connection with him.

Maybe it's because we're the same age, and when I met him the first thing I noticed is that he looks me directly in the eyes when I talk and doesn't look away; giving me his undivided attention. (Also, he was in the hospital, so naturally I want to baby him and feed him soup. I guess womanly instincts strike at a moment's notice.) Or perhaps studying my face and peering into my soul. Or a combination of the two. His eyes are very intense. And when I heard him outside one day, smoking weed, playing guitar, and singing with the most beautiful voice, I felt so much closer to him. He's a videographer and he plays guitar AND he sings. He does a lot of what I want to do in my life, and he does it well. I see him as a role model of sorts. A close friend, too.

Anyways, lots of good things are happening. I find myself wanting change, although I know it will be difficult. I've gotten used to De Anza, to the friends I met there, to the campus, the people, the routine. I think I've set up a good road map for my life. Two years at CSUMB until I graduate with a Bachelor's in Visual and Public Art. Then Peace Corps for (hopefully) two years, time that I hope to document through my art.

After that, getting involved with organizations that provide change on Native American reservations (and bring education and mental health services specifically) and others that help the homeless. After that, when I'm 25ish I would probably do well to look for a career-type job if I'm not "making it" as an artist. Then Master's degree somewhere, kids, build on my property in Colorado and work through my bucket list while I live out the rest of my life creating art, music, bellydancing and crocheting.

Planning one's life out may seem foolish, but I don't think of it that way. I think of it as having certain things I wish to do. And if they can happen at certain times, great. If not, I can adapt. Change is always good for me, a clean slate and a new beginning help me feel secure.

I'm awarding myself 600 awesome points for staying up so late. It is 3:02am and I'm still awake. ME. Mrs. Morning person. Oh, I guess I should get to sleep. Since finals are in two weeks.