Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. Everyone is entitled to their own beliefs. As long as we are all respectful towards each other, and try not to limit each other’s rights.

In an ideal world, no one would ever do anything offensive, no one’s feelings would ever be hurt, everyone would agree, and there would be peace. That isn’t ever going to happen.

I’m an idealist. An optimist. But I know that people often times say things they don’t mean, or make statements without having an understanding of the implications of their words. There are sayings and words that have become ingrained in our society to mean something that they don’t actual mean.

I try not to jump to conclusions about a person when it comes to these things. I try not to jump to conclusions period. I especially try not to judge a public figure (celebrity, actor, politician, etc.) too harshly for statements (okay, it depends on the severity of the statement) made off-hand in front of a crowd. Speaking off the cuff is hard, even to a seasoned professional. Things get said that may not have the meaning you apply to it, or an opinion may be expressed that they haven’t had time to flesh out or develop.

Good, kind people can say things that I find offensive or off-putting. But does one statement define that person? Or are we all growing and developing our thoughts and opinions every day?

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

"These are the things about my body: It does not always want to get up. Some days I have to spend an hour forcing myself to loosen the muscles that have, overnight, clenched up like fists.

It craves caffeine and the Internet, bubble-baths and green tea. It wants wine and laughter and books and soft sheets. It wants to be spoiled and taken care of and let go of. It wants to stop being stretched like a sugar pull.

There are days where I want to smash every mirror in the whole goddamn house—and other days, better days where I think anyone could see me and fall in love.

It is not vanity, it is not ego. It is sure, like the melting of summer into autumn, hands on a railing, mothers loving their children and kissing them goodbye at the gate.

No one will ever commemorate my beauty. There will be no parades, no parties thrown in my honor, no glossy magazine covers smelling like ink and skinny and perfect skin. This body is all I have. It is stubborn and slow to rise and it wants everything, god, it wants the world, it does. It just wants. Wants.

It wants to stop being asked, What do you look like? When you can see for yourself. When you can see."

— Kristina H., “On Getting Asked About My Appearance”

Friday, March 1, 2013

The daughter of an alcoholic

Being the child of an alcoholic is... Well, it's tough. I've been living with my mom's problem all my life, and it never gets easier. I know how to handle it, to contain it, but the feelings it evokes in me are the same.

Whenever she calls me while she's drunk (like the 4 times yesterday, or when I spoke to her just now), I get frustrated, I get anxious, and I get angry. And I hate feeling that way. I hate having to remind myself to take a deep breath while I'm listening to her talk, so that I don't snap at her. Because me getting angry at her doesn't do anything for anyone's benefit. Whenever that happens, I'm always the bad guy. I'm the bitch.

And it isn't ever going to be different. I stopped thinking she would change a long time ago. My grandma (my mom's mom) always told us (my sisters and me) that we just needed to let her know that we didn't like her drinking and she would get help. Yeah, we've done that. I've poured bottles of tequila down the kitchen sink, I've hid her alcohol, I've yelled, I've cried, I've fought. It isn't about me. It was never about me, or what I wanted, or what I needed.

And I accept that. I understand that. It doesn't make it any easier.

Monday, February 25, 2013


Sometimes it amazes me the negativity I see in people.

I got complimented yesterday by a Safeway employee about how I always have a smile on my face. It made me realize, as I observed other people that day, that most people aren't smiling.  A lot of people don't say thank you, or please, or smile in thanks. I never really thought about how it may be unusual that I do those things, because to me they seem so natural.

I told that employee that there wasn't anything so bad in my life that I had to be upset about. He told me that that was a good attitude to have.

Have I had struggles? Yes. I've had bad days. I don't love my job, or know what I want to do with my life. My brakes are going out in my car. My apartment has horrible insulation and is always freezing. My childhood was challenging, and my family can still be. But whenever I think about those things, I remember that as bad as I may have it, there are people who have it worse. They can get through it, and so can I.

So I smile. And I practice kindness. And I show my appreciation for people by saying 'please' and 'thank you'. I try not to judge people, and I try to be understanding. That's what I can do to make life a little easier, for myself and for the people around me.


Basically, I wanted a place where I could just write things that pop into my head, about the world and people.

So that is what you'll find here. My thoughts.