Being around my family has unearthed a lot of old issues. Good and bad. There are quite few issues that I'm forced to deal with and in some ways, I feel like I'm doing things all over again. I'm dealing with issues I've already dealt with. It's good for me, I know. But some days it's really hard. Since we're all adults now, the dynamic in my family has changed significantly. We all have to redefine our relationships with each other. And in some cases, develop relationships. A lot changes in 4 years. That's how long it's been since I've lived close to my family for any length of time. We've all lived away from each other and have grown and changed so much. We've all become very different people. We sometimes make the mistake of treating each other like we're still the same people we were years ago when we were all still at home. Everyone has a role in their family. Whether they've chosen it or not. I think we've all decided to throw those roles out the window as we've become our own people on our own. It's hard and it takes effort, but we're finding that it's important to not make assumptions about each other's personalities and needs. We really have all changed monumentally.
29 April 2005
28 April 2005
i love...
my family
my grandparents
my friends
good people
good food
the south
funny people
florida oranges
the smell of orange blossoms
strawberries
mangoes
singing
thunderstorms
warm weather
dusk
the night sky
that i'm audacious
that i'm kind
my laugh
benjamin's laugh
that i'm beautiful
my intellect
cate's smile
my grandparents
my friends
good people
good food
the south
funny people
florida oranges
the smell of orange blossoms
strawberries
mangoes
singing
thunderstorms
warm weather
dusk
the night sky
that i'm audacious
that i'm kind
my laugh
benjamin's laugh
that i'm beautiful
my intellect
cate's smile
22 April 2005
20 April 2005
perfect 10
I had an argument with a ten year old named Lindsay today over which one of us was the prettiest. I won the argument. She's way prettier. Here's how it began:
I was on my way out after work today and noticed this adorable little 10 year old sitting on the front porch of the shelter. She was waiting for her Grandma who works with me. She had brown hair, freckles, and big 10 yr old teeth she hasn't grown into yet and was wearing a necklace that said "perfect 10." I looked at her and said, "Doh! You're totally tanner than I am. No fair." She grinned her toothy perfect 10 smile at me and said, "Yeah, but you get to wear glasses and I wanted to wear glasses for my whole life." So I said, "Yeah, but you have brown hair and I wanted that for my whole life." I told her that I believe 10 is the perfect age. She rolled her eyes and told me it was way too boring.
She then proceeded to list off her day: "I have to go to school and do homework."
Me butting in, "Yeah, try working for 11 hours."
Lindsay: "Then I have to surf the internet and read about animals."
Me: "Duh, same thing over here."
Lindsay: "I have to do a report on domestic violence." She nodded her head in the direction of the shelter.
Me: "I totally work in there all day, what do you want to know?"
Lindsay: "We totally do the same stuff."
Me: "Totally, we're like the same person, only you're perfect 10 and I'm 24."
Lindsay: "Yeah, and you have blonde hair."
I pointed out a mole on her shoulder and then showed her my identical mole on my shoulder. "See?" I said, "Same person. Except you're way prettier."
Her eyes bugged out and her mouth turned into a huge "O".
"NO WAY! You're way prettier!"
We argued back and forth 10 year old style, "You are." "No, you are." "No, you are."
Me: "It's totally true and I have to go home dude. But tell your Grandma I said that we totally need to hang out, ok?"
She smiled and started giggling to herself. Just as I reached my car I heard the perfect 10 voice yell out, "See you pretty girl!"
She got the last word, but I definitely won, she's way prettier than me.
I was on my way out after work today and noticed this adorable little 10 year old sitting on the front porch of the shelter. She was waiting for her Grandma who works with me. She had brown hair, freckles, and big 10 yr old teeth she hasn't grown into yet and was wearing a necklace that said "perfect 10." I looked at her and said, "Doh! You're totally tanner than I am. No fair." She grinned her toothy perfect 10 smile at me and said, "Yeah, but you get to wear glasses and I wanted to wear glasses for my whole life." So I said, "Yeah, but you have brown hair and I wanted that for my whole life." I told her that I believe 10 is the perfect age. She rolled her eyes and told me it was way too boring.
She then proceeded to list off her day: "I have to go to school and do homework."
Me butting in, "Yeah, try working for 11 hours."
Lindsay: "Then I have to surf the internet and read about animals."
Me: "Duh, same thing over here."
Lindsay: "I have to do a report on domestic violence." She nodded her head in the direction of the shelter.
Me: "I totally work in there all day, what do you want to know?"
Lindsay: "We totally do the same stuff."
Me: "Totally, we're like the same person, only you're perfect 10 and I'm 24."
Lindsay: "Yeah, and you have blonde hair."
I pointed out a mole on her shoulder and then showed her my identical mole on my shoulder. "See?" I said, "Same person. Except you're way prettier."
Her eyes bugged out and her mouth turned into a huge "O".
"NO WAY! You're way prettier!"
We argued back and forth 10 year old style, "You are." "No, you are." "No, you are."
Me: "It's totally true and I have to go home dude. But tell your Grandma I said that we totally need to hang out, ok?"
She smiled and started giggling to herself. Just as I reached my car I heard the perfect 10 voice yell out, "See you pretty girl!"
She got the last word, but I definitely won, she's way prettier than me.
vanity and boredom part 2
I'm so over being very blonde and thin eyebrowed, and pale skinned. I'm going to get my hair back to it's natural state, embrace the owl-wings above my eyes and get tan.
Dirty, dirty tan.
Eh Heh Heh Heh Eh Heh...
I'm always afraid that when I go get a haircut, my stylist will want to chop several inches off my hair. This is not a possibility right now. This was my fear at my last visit, but Chelsea left my glory alone. Ooohhh.... maybe I should name my HAIR Minerva. That's cool. My bladder is already named Brenda. My legs look like....
Lucy and Ethel.
Dirty, dirty tan.
Eh Heh Heh Heh Eh Heh...
I'm always afraid that when I go get a haircut, my stylist will want to chop several inches off my hair. This is not a possibility right now. This was my fear at my last visit, but Chelsea left my glory alone. Ooohhh.... maybe I should name my HAIR Minerva. That's cool. My bladder is already named Brenda. My legs look like....
Lucy and Ethel.
vanity and boredom part 1
The next car, computer, or pet that I own will be named Minerva. Also, I just decided that I might one day name one of my children Sylvia.
On another note, I stopped plucking my eyebrows a few weeks ago because I realized that it's been a solid 10 years since I've seen them in their natural state. (I keep them at about 25% of capacity.) It's been a difficult process. I'm addicted to the tweeze. I had to put my tweezers in a public place where someone else could misplace them for me. It worked for 2 weeks. I found them in the kitchen today. Doh! Luckily, my naturally bushy brows have made so much progress, it would be cruel to deny them their freedom now. So I put my tweezers down and found other uses for the mirror in my hand. Like 30 minutes of self-absorption. I'm freaking gorgeous! Even with bushy brows and no makeup. My freckles need work though. Too bad I can't lay out again until Thursday... poo.
On another note, I stopped plucking my eyebrows a few weeks ago because I realized that it's been a solid 10 years since I've seen them in their natural state. (I keep them at about 25% of capacity.) It's been a difficult process. I'm addicted to the tweeze. I had to put my tweezers in a public place where someone else could misplace them for me. It worked for 2 weeks. I found them in the kitchen today. Doh! Luckily, my naturally bushy brows have made so much progress, it would be cruel to deny them their freedom now. So I put my tweezers down and found other uses for the mirror in my hand. Like 30 minutes of self-absorption. I'm freaking gorgeous! Even with bushy brows and no makeup. My freckles need work though. Too bad I can't lay out again until Thursday... poo.
19 April 2005
almost there...
I can tell which of my friends are done with finals cuz they've started blogging again. For those of you who aren't done yet,
Good luck! It's almost over.
And you better get back to blogging soon. I love ya'll like crazy!
Good luck! It's almost over.
And you better get back to blogging soon. I love ya'll like crazy!
18 April 2005
A Letter to Mariah Carey from a formerly devoted Fan:
Mariah,
Girl, we need to have a talk. You know I only say this because I love you, but what the stank bacon are you doing? Collaborating with Snoop Dogg of all people? The whole world knows you can sing. Dang you can sing. I don't even know what would I do for a vocal range like yours. I, at one time, was probably your biggest fan. I spent countless hours as a teenager sitting in my room listening to your albums and honing my sound so that I could imitate you. So thank you for your influence, I have to admit that I've developed a fairly righteous set of pipes thanks in part to you.
So anyway, I happened upon your latest music videos recently...
I. Was. Embarrassed. For. You.
Girl, your hair is FRIGHTENING. You need to get back in touch with Mother Nature. The nasty mashed-banana colored whip you're sporting on your head isn't doing anything for you. Neither is your washed out mono-chromatic makeup. And what is up with the men in your videos? One is way too old and the other is way too young. You aren't fooling anybody. We know how old you are. You have enough talent that you can stop competing with younger artists. You are a Goddess in the music world. You don't have to compete, they should be bowing to you.
To be honest, I stopped buying your albums after Butterfly. They have just been too disappointing. I'm not a big fan of the Mariah of the past 10 years. Maybe try adding a new influence to your music. The R&B and Hip Hop scenes just aren't doing it for you anymore.
I know.
I had to go through this with myself. The ghetto influence is so strong. You almost feel like you're betraying your heritage. Trust me, I know what it feels like. I was sure my girl TshWanda (yeah, it sounds just like it's spelled) was gonna show up on my doorstep wielding The Pimp Hand when I started listening to country music. But she didn't. Jazz has been good for me too. But you know what really rocks? Electric Blues. Like Susan Tedeschi. Get gritty. Add a little flavor to your music. I know you got some Latin in blood in you. Maybe try some Rock influence? A little Funk or just good old fashioned Soul always does a body good, so does Janis Joplin.
Go hang out with Erykah Badu or India.Arie. These Sistas don't sound like anyone else. And I'm not talking about their voices. I'm talking about the distinctive sounds of the music they write. It's time to establish some street cred. Please, no more of this sell-out, creamy, homogenized juvenile Hip-Pop. You're better than this! I just keep waiting for it. Come on girl. I'm pulling for you. Now that Mimi (whoever that is) has been freed, maybe we can free Mariah.
Much Love,
Nessa
A Patient Former Fan
Girl, we need to have a talk. You know I only say this because I love you, but what the stank bacon are you doing? Collaborating with Snoop Dogg of all people? The whole world knows you can sing. Dang you can sing. I don't even know what would I do for a vocal range like yours. I, at one time, was probably your biggest fan. I spent countless hours as a teenager sitting in my room listening to your albums and honing my sound so that I could imitate you. So thank you for your influence, I have to admit that I've developed a fairly righteous set of pipes thanks in part to you.
So anyway, I happened upon your latest music videos recently...
I. Was. Embarrassed. For. You.
Girl, your hair is FRIGHTENING. You need to get back in touch with Mother Nature. The nasty mashed-banana colored whip you're sporting on your head isn't doing anything for you. Neither is your washed out mono-chromatic makeup. And what is up with the men in your videos? One is way too old and the other is way too young. You aren't fooling anybody. We know how old you are. You have enough talent that you can stop competing with younger artists. You are a Goddess in the music world. You don't have to compete, they should be bowing to you.
To be honest, I stopped buying your albums after Butterfly. They have just been too disappointing. I'm not a big fan of the Mariah of the past 10 years. Maybe try adding a new influence to your music. The R&B and Hip Hop scenes just aren't doing it for you anymore.
I know.
I had to go through this with myself. The ghetto influence is so strong. You almost feel like you're betraying your heritage. Trust me, I know what it feels like. I was sure my girl TshWanda (yeah, it sounds just like it's spelled) was gonna show up on my doorstep wielding The Pimp Hand when I started listening to country music. But she didn't. Jazz has been good for me too. But you know what really rocks? Electric Blues. Like Susan Tedeschi. Get gritty. Add a little flavor to your music. I know you got some Latin in blood in you. Maybe try some Rock influence? A little Funk or just good old fashioned Soul always does a body good, so does Janis Joplin.
Go hang out with Erykah Badu or India.Arie. These Sistas don't sound like anyone else. And I'm not talking about their voices. I'm talking about the distinctive sounds of the music they write. It's time to establish some street cred. Please, no more of this sell-out, creamy, homogenized juvenile Hip-Pop. You're better than this! I just keep waiting for it. Come on girl. I'm pulling for you. Now that Mimi (whoever that is) has been freed, maybe we can free Mariah.
Much Love,
Nessa
A Patient Former Fan
17 April 2005
wicked jealous
THIS is what I'm talking about ya'll. Hopefully I'll only have to spend one more year of my life land-locked. Two at the most. I crave the coast. I dream about the ocean lately!! It must be all the sun I'm getting.
prospects...
I finally found a *ward!! I went to my brother's ward for 3 weeks and everyone was perfectly ridiculous. A bunch of self-conscious, self absorbed young people eyeing each other from a distance. And the pickins were very slim... no dating prospects. There was one overly orange young man who looked like he fell in a vat of self tanning creme and who loves himself more than anyone else ever could. He's a perpetual joke among my sisters. I went to my sister's ward today and 5 different attractive young men immediately came and introduced themselves to me. My sis was like, "That's 5! You said the other place wasn't friendly enough..." I told her it was my hair, the lure of the jungle, if you will. Everyone seemed so cool and self assured. There are a lot of girls my age too. Finally, the hope of some friends. It feels like a natural fit for me. It reminds me of the byu 2nd ward, just older. Crazy coincidence, my bishop is even a doctor. I'm totally sticking with this one. I'll let you know how it goes...
*For those who don't know, a ward is a local congregation of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints .
*For those who don't know, a ward is a local congregation of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints .
16 April 2005
Following Em...
So, I was checking Em's blog today to see if there was anything new and there wasn't so I was sad. (As well I should be.) I decided to hit "Next Blog" and see what's out there and I found a boring blog by an Arab guy. So I hit "Next Blog" and I found a boring blog by an Arab guy. So I hit "Next Blog" and I found a boring blog by an Arab guy. Coincidence? It's like she's a magnet for boring Arab men. Don't get me wrong, I happen to love, love, love, Arab men, (ask Nama), these three just happened to be excruciatingly boring. Just thought I'd share. Crap, do people say that about my blog when they run across it? Shoot.
15 April 2005
awkward silences
I forgot that my brother and his brother are still friends...
I didn't recognize him sitting at my kitchen table...
It's been 4 years ok? geez.
We both looked at each other for a minute...
The recognition came to both of us at the same time.
**awkward silence**
Me: "Wow, how are you?"
Him: "Good, thanks."
**awkward silence**
Yeah, I'm that girl.
Yeah, I know your brother is married now and that they're expecting a baby.
Big whoop.
Yeah, I'm still single.
You can both bite me.
I didn't recognize him sitting at my kitchen table...
It's been 4 years ok? geez.
We both looked at each other for a minute...
The recognition came to both of us at the same time.
**awkward silence**
Me: "Wow, how are you?"
Him: "Good, thanks."
**awkward silence**
Yeah, I'm that girl.
Yeah, I know your brother is married now and that they're expecting a baby.
Big whoop.
Yeah, I'm still single.
You can both bite me.
a sunny disposition
i layed in the sun and read some fabulous short stories by edith wharton today. while doing this, i not only realized that she and i would've been "tight" if she was still alive, i realized that the sun is remarkably good for me. getting a tan has the same effect on me as getting an entire wardrobe makeover does on other people. it makes me feel beautiful, capable, intelligent, rested, sexy, and monumentally happy.
14 April 2005
New blog
I created a new blog. I wanted to invite my friends to see it. Please be warned. It is not anything like this one. It's my outlet to deal with some of the most traumatic events of my life. You might be very shocked, but you are welcome to go there or to choose not to. Just please be warned.
It's called: Memories of Repression.
It's called: Memories of Repression.
13 April 2005
Goals and Habits...You decide which is which
Getting my legs as tan as my arms and accumulating freckles...
Staring at the guitar chart on my wall and using it...
Learning as many India.Arie songs as I can get my hands and ears on...
Getting my taxes done on time...
Writing in my journal like a fiend...
Eating 3 meals a day...
Dealing with my childhood one psychotic/traumatic/happy episode at a time...
Applying for Beauty Schools...
Sleeping 10 hours a night...
Pilates...
Spending as much time naked as I properly can...
Encouraging my family to blog...
Being a good listener...
Making a list of 50 things to do before I die...
Staring at the guitar chart on my wall and using it...
Learning as many India.Arie songs as I can get my hands and ears on...
Getting my taxes done on time...
Writing in my journal like a fiend...
Eating 3 meals a day...
Dealing with my childhood one psychotic/traumatic/happy episode at a time...
Applying for Beauty Schools...
Sleeping 10 hours a night...
Pilates...
Spending as much time naked as I properly can...
Encouraging my family to blog...
Being a good listener...
Making a list of 50 things to do before I die...
12 April 2005
REALITY
Did you know that if a woman is not a legal resident of the US, but her children are, that when she is deported, the US keeps her children?
Did you know that there are apartments full of illegal families hiding on the Reservations trying to stay together?
Did you know that there are 4 animal shelters for every 1 domestic violence shelter?
Did you know that there are men in this world who beat women and then force them to use drugs and convince them that they can't call the police because they're high and that the cops won't believe them?
Did you know some abusers won't let their wives/girlfriends learn English?
Did you know that women fly across the country under false names so that they can seek shelter from their abusers?
Did you know that some abusers tell women that they'll call immigration if they call the police on them?
Did you know that domestic violence happens in all levels of society and in heterosexual and homosexual relationships equally?
Did you know that battered women sometimes have to be transported in secret late at night because their abusers find them?
Did you know that the facility where I work is the only one in the country that puts women and their children up in motels when all the shelters are full?
Did you know that once given a bed and a safe place to stay, some women don't want to get out of bed anymore and blame themselves?
Did you know that some women go back to their abusers because they associate violence with love?
Did you know that I've had to hold children while they cry because their fathers are bad people and they're ashamed that they love them?
Did you know that there are apartments full of illegal families hiding on the Reservations trying to stay together?
Did you know that there are 4 animal shelters for every 1 domestic violence shelter?
Did you know that there are men in this world who beat women and then force them to use drugs and convince them that they can't call the police because they're high and that the cops won't believe them?
Did you know some abusers won't let their wives/girlfriends learn English?
Did you know that women fly across the country under false names so that they can seek shelter from their abusers?
Did you know that some abusers tell women that they'll call immigration if they call the police on them?
Did you know that domestic violence happens in all levels of society and in heterosexual and homosexual relationships equally?
Did you know that battered women sometimes have to be transported in secret late at night because their abusers find them?
Did you know that the facility where I work is the only one in the country that puts women and their children up in motels when all the shelters are full?
Did you know that once given a bed and a safe place to stay, some women don't want to get out of bed anymore and blame themselves?
Did you know that some women go back to their abusers because they associate violence with love?
Did you know that I've had to hold children while they cry because their fathers are bad people and they're ashamed that they love them?
11 April 2005
confessions...
Have you ever had someone in your life who you were inexplicably drawn to? Someone who, no matter where they were in the room, you instinctively knew where they were? Someone who's voice made you turn? Every time? Someone you knew without even knowing? There is a boy who I had this effect on. He would never admit it. He's probably reading this right now. (I just wanted to let you know that I know.)
09 April 2005
family idiosyncrasies
My 2 year old nephew, Boodji, still doesn't know my name. All of my other nieces and nephews call me Auntie Lulu and his mama, Big Mama, refers to me as Lulu so he'll get the point, but he insists on calling me "Buck." We've corrected him every time he's said it for a month, but he laughs and shakes his head and says, "Noooo, BUCK!" and points at me. So I am Auntie Buck. We can't figure it out. Like I needed another nickname. Sheesh.
This same sister is having a baby in August and still doesn't know the gender because the little punk baby kept its legs crossed during her ultrasound. It's a good thing she's ok with surprises.
On another note, my sister, Mojo, turned 29 today. My mom managed to throw a tantrum like she usually does on birthdays. Heaven forbid that the day be about someone else. There were tears, pouting, and slammed doors. Big Mama had to mediate. Drama drama drama.
I watched my sister, Reb, intimidate a deli worker at the health food store today because he didn't have nitrate-free meats. He was pale and shaking by the time he handed her her order. If he'd been a little more self-possessed, he probably would've spit in it. I should've intervened, but it was entertaining. She knew more about the company he's working for than he did. Lawyers. Go figure.
My Grandma called today and complained about how her new prosthetic breast is too perky and then she cracked on the doctor who performed her recent masectomy. She was like, "He should have done a better job, my skin's all saggy." Reb said, "Grandma, you're 90, surgery can't fix that."
This same sister is having a baby in August and still doesn't know the gender because the little punk baby kept its legs crossed during her ultrasound. It's a good thing she's ok with surprises.
On another note, my sister, Mojo, turned 29 today. My mom managed to throw a tantrum like she usually does on birthdays. Heaven forbid that the day be about someone else. There were tears, pouting, and slammed doors. Big Mama had to mediate. Drama drama drama.
I watched my sister, Reb, intimidate a deli worker at the health food store today because he didn't have nitrate-free meats. He was pale and shaking by the time he handed her her order. If he'd been a little more self-possessed, he probably would've spit in it. I should've intervened, but it was entertaining. She knew more about the company he's working for than he did. Lawyers. Go figure.
My Grandma called today and complained about how her new prosthetic breast is too perky and then she cracked on the doctor who performed her recent masectomy. She was like, "He should have done a better job, my skin's all saggy." Reb said, "Grandma, you're 90, surgery can't fix that."
01 April 2005
Exhibitionist
Did Jon's blog make anyone else want to moon him? Or decorate his apartment with thongs, or just plain go streaking in the Villa? These are just a few of the many ideas that popped into my head. It reminded me of sleep-overs where we would freeze someone's bra and underwear while they were sleeping (in the case of an adult neighbor, it was her ENTIRE underwear drawer which we later threw in the pool) or my first year of girl's camp when I wrote "I'm too sexy for a shirt" on my sister's stomach and she streaked the camp. Or of all the years of truth or dare that promoted my love of personal nudity. "Okay, get NAKED and run to the lamp post and back singing 'I'm a little teapot'." I've even given up caring whether there are construction workers on the roof next door when I lay out. Shoot, I would look. Ahhh, the joy of being naked or even just partially clothed. So Jon, watch your mailbox, you never know what might be inside.