Independence?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is my red doberman, Milo

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

My freshly re-twisted dreadlocks

Scumbag brain again and generalness

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

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

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

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

My Intercultural Communications professor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stupid brain strikes again!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thinking about this plus eyeliner for the interview.

Why I haven't blogged since Wednesday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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