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.

Dreads are funny

June 7th, 2014, late at night

I hope I can find someone like Patrick when I'm at Monterey. Someone I can trust, that'll be there for me just in case. Not like a mom, that's what Patrick said. Someone who doesn't mind looking out for me.

It's not that I'm afraid of having fun by myself, but being small and female, there are people bound to try and take advantage of me, and it just helps to have someone big and tall accompany me, like Patrick.

I would love to go out alone but in this day and age it's just not safe, regardless of how old I am. In the news somewhere was this story of an old woman that'd been killed and shoved in a suitcase that washed up on a shore. I use that example to show that age is irrelevant, predators go for who looks weak, and I definitely do.

But I want to take kickboxing and self-defense class. Learn how to defend myself, just in case. I don't plan to put myself in dangerous situations, but you never know. I want to feel confident before I can adventure out into the unknown. I'm gonna make that happen once I'm at Monterey.

I was thinking about what America is. It represents growth and change, slow as it may be. America takes the good parts of other cultures and mixes them up into one fruit salad.

That's why people fight to get here. The opportunity for growth and change.

I just found out

Sebaceous glands are where scents come from. Whether or not you like others' smell is indicative of whether or not they're a good mate for you, biologically.

June 4, 2014

"I've never been so angry and yet want to do something," I said.

"Yeah," said Patrick, "it's called passion."

I'd just told him that when I get back from the Peace Corps I want to bring education, counseling/therapy and activity to Native American reservations. I can sympathize with a bloody history filled with exploitation and mistreatment.

However, there are programs helping American Indians in America. I hope there are some out there doing what I want. If not, I'll be happy to create one.

My professor told me how Native Americans hated that their youth were leaving to be educated because they would forget their heritage. That's why I want to bring everything to the reservations and offer to rebuild any structures they need.

Of course, I'm first going to spend a lot of time learning the ways, tradition and culture before I do this, and I will ask what it is they need most and see if what I want to bring in matches up.

I don't see myself in a money-making position in the world. My purpose is to create, give, and love. Of course, I'll have to find a career eventually to support myself and my future family, so... Conflict.

subconscious fears about college. Dream.

12 Nov 2012

I was being abused by my friends and family. There was this black ring. When me and Cianne figured out that I was gonna die we cried, in class and kissed each other on the cheek. We said goodbye. I was like a freshman in college. I said goodbye to Mr. Cummins and Escobar (high school professors). Then the story changed a little. Cianne was a cat, and there was this man that I loved. He climbed this huge mountain. I tried to follow him, I told Lauren he's either at _____ or at that barn. When I was close to the top, I fell a couple 100 feet.  At the top was Nana&Popop's house..

Nov 19th, 2012, Dream.

I found the little chihuahua that was walking in front of the bus! I picked it up, gave it water. It's owner have me like 54 cents. I was in a backyard and this little kid was judging the athletic ability of these teenagers (Olympians?). Then we were watching the Simpsons with m&d and I snuck out. I went for a bike ride and closed my eyes for... A couple seconds? I opened my eyes and I was in China town. The people there were telling me that I had some prophecy to fulfill... I wanted to leave.  I ran really fast, but I was running right behind myself. The leader ran after me like in Kung fu hustle, with ease. She made a snake come after me. She created it with the liquidity of her arm, and I stood and watched while I sat and was attacked by the snake. The townspeople came to my help and carried me inside their village, it was so colorful.

Mounds of color everywhere, like the people were being paid to dye fabric. Brilliant reds for sure. Maybe oranges or greens or blues. We were in the middle of a forest, but huge wooden cylinders separated us from the outside world. I was a kid again, running through the piles with other kids. Then something serious happened and we stopped.