Let me preface this by saying that my mother had an extremely bad head injury. Sixty-six stitches across her forehead. Eight below her left eye. I almost lost her. A few hours before it happened, a man said to me, "you love your mom don't you?" I looked over at her and she had a smile. I said "yes." He assured me that my mom loved me too.
Then when it happened I looked down at her face that was covered in blood. Red was bleeding into the whites of her eyes. She stared up at me in a daze and a smile slowly appeared on her face. I immediately laid down. If I wouldn't have, I would have passed out. I thought I was going to lose my mother.
In a way, I did, because she was never the same due to the brain damage that occurred.
I remember I made her cry when I criticized the big gashes her face. It hurt her but it hurt me just as much. I wish I could go back in time and erase what I said.
My dad said to me, shortly afterwards, "Nicole at some point you just start to realize that, you know, things just are the way that they are. And there is nothing you can do about it."
My mom has been emotionally abusive to me since it happened, as most people know. She's always been a provider, the bread winner in our family. But that's really that only thing she's got going for her as a parent. Part of me understands why though. She grew up in poverty, lived in an orphanage for a portion of her life, had a schizophrenic mother, had to steal food to eat, was sold into prostitution, had multiple abortions as a result, had a sister that was violently raped and disappeared...
My mom had a rough life. So rough that she never really got to develop parenting skills.
Yesterday, completely 100% unprovoked, she bashed me. She kept pushing and pushing. Harder and harder. But I refused to fight back. It's not in my nature. I don't like to fight. After about 40 minutes of it, I couldn't take it. I said one thing. ONE thing. And it ended in her telling me that she hopes I get AIDS and rot. She hung up on me. She's done this stuff to me before. Many times. Once I stopped talking to her for about six months.
This time was different though. I didn't cry. I didn't drink myself to near death. I handled it well. Going to bed was impossible though. All of the sad feelings crept up on me. In the dark I stared at the ceiling thinking about how glad I am that my father didn't buy me a gun, because death has been looking awfully more shiny here of late.
More shiny than it ever should.
Today my dad called me. I answered and he asked me what's wrong. I told him what happened and advised him that I did nothing wrong. He agreed with me. He begged my mom to take the phone but she refused. "Talk to your daughter" he kept saying but she refused the phone. After a good ten attempts, she grabbed the phone and said "what?" in a nasty tone. I said, "I just wanted to talk about work." She threw the phone at my dad. He begged her again. After nearly ten minutes, she finally talked to me. No apology of course, and she still things she's completely in the right. And she probably still wishes I get AIDS and rot...
But I'm glad we're talking. I can't take another holiday alone in my living room. I can't hurt my dad anymore because my mother is deteriorating mentally and saying things that a mother should never say to a daughter. My dad deserves a daughter who's always there during holidays. So does my grandmother. And I'm not going to let my mother ruin that.
I'll be civil.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Evaluating Religion Once Again
Religion has gained my interest recently. I've considered myself an atheist for many years and it's been so many years, in fact, that I never really think about it. I just know that there is no "creator" based off of things I've learned in geology class, chemistry class, history class, physics class, astronomy class, etc. Upon learning what I learned, I knew one hundred percent without a doubt in my mind that there is no fucking way that there is an omniscient being out there that made this universe, even in a way that a deist may believe.
The Higgs Boson came to light not that long ago and it made me think about religion again, solidifying my stance as an atheist even more, but also making me more interested in things such as Hinduism and Buddism just for the mental benefits.
I mean, religion is the opiate of the masses. And I'm all about sticking my hand in the cookie jar to get a taste of the sweetness. So I've looked into the non-religious traditions of Buddhist and Hindu culture and hold those to my heart as a way of feeling "one with the universe" in my ever-so-hippy way that my coworker teases me about. You know, doing the tree pose by candle light and listening to Krishna Das while meditating. And also, everyone appreciates a little nonattachment like Buddha preached.
However, I'm an intelligent being. I don't think that there's a god in my tree or that the Book of the Dead is true by any means. I collect Ganesh statutes (Remover of Obstacles) because it makes me happy in the same way that my unicorn pillow pet makes me happy, not because I think they're going to make my mom suddenly love the gays.
About five years ago I spent time researching various religions and in that period of time I even read the Book of Satanism. I thought to myself "holy shit that's a lot of animal sacrificing." But then I read the Bible and thought "holy shit this is even more animal sacrificing." It's all the same. Kill things to make some invisible person happy. And when it's not "kill things to make some invisible person happy," it's "cook vegetarian meals to make some invisible person happy" (for instance, in Hinduism).
I've had holy water squirted on me, I've kneeled in Catholic churches, I've done readings in front of hundreds of people in non-Catholic churches, I've meditated in a room full of devout Buddhists, I've had dinner with a monk on the dirty floor of an old building in Philadelphia and twitched when he pulled a cell phone out from between his crossed legs. It's all the same to me. People do this stuff because it makes them happy. They need something to cling to.
I'm a strong person but when I'm sad, I meditate because it brings out the existentialist side of me. It makes me realize how none of this really matters. It strips down all of the stupid layers of this world and makes me realize that work isn't important, family isn't important, friends aren't important... the only thing that is important is breathing really. Because that's what keeps you here. It does exactly what Buddha wants it to do; it detaches you from material things.
I'm lucky to be on this beautiful earth with the beautiful sunlight. And you know why? Because it's all by chance that I'm here. And I'm going to take advantage of it before I'm in the ground because I'm not naive enough to save my happiness for some sort of afterlife. That's just silly.
The Higgs Boson came to light not that long ago and it made me think about religion again, solidifying my stance as an atheist even more, but also making me more interested in things such as Hinduism and Buddism just for the mental benefits.
I mean, religion is the opiate of the masses. And I'm all about sticking my hand in the cookie jar to get a taste of the sweetness. So I've looked into the non-religious traditions of Buddhist and Hindu culture and hold those to my heart as a way of feeling "one with the universe" in my ever-so-hippy way that my coworker teases me about. You know, doing the tree pose by candle light and listening to Krishna Das while meditating. And also, everyone appreciates a little nonattachment like Buddha preached.
However, I'm an intelligent being. I don't think that there's a god in my tree or that the Book of the Dead is true by any means. I collect Ganesh statutes (Remover of Obstacles) because it makes me happy in the same way that my unicorn pillow pet makes me happy, not because I think they're going to make my mom suddenly love the gays.
About five years ago I spent time researching various religions and in that period of time I even read the Book of Satanism. I thought to myself "holy shit that's a lot of animal sacrificing." But then I read the Bible and thought "holy shit this is even more animal sacrificing." It's all the same. Kill things to make some invisible person happy. And when it's not "kill things to make some invisible person happy," it's "cook vegetarian meals to make some invisible person happy" (for instance, in Hinduism).
I've had holy water squirted on me, I've kneeled in Catholic churches, I've done readings in front of hundreds of people in non-Catholic churches, I've meditated in a room full of devout Buddhists, I've had dinner with a monk on the dirty floor of an old building in Philadelphia and twitched when he pulled a cell phone out from between his crossed legs. It's all the same to me. People do this stuff because it makes them happy. They need something to cling to.
I'm a strong person but when I'm sad, I meditate because it brings out the existentialist side of me. It makes me realize how none of this really matters. It strips down all of the stupid layers of this world and makes me realize that work isn't important, family isn't important, friends aren't important... the only thing that is important is breathing really. Because that's what keeps you here. It does exactly what Buddha wants it to do; it detaches you from material things.
I'm lucky to be on this beautiful earth with the beautiful sunlight. And you know why? Because it's all by chance that I'm here. And I'm going to take advantage of it before I'm in the ground because I'm not naive enough to save my happiness for some sort of afterlife. That's just silly.
Monday, October 1, 2012
And then everything fell to shit
My mother and I were doing okay. Honestly it was the best relationship we've had in years. I was calling her every day after work and being honest with her. But it was easy to be honest with her because there wasn't anything in my life that could offend her.
I started visiting her more often, I think. At least it felt like I was visiting her more often. Or maybe it was just a feeling of general closeness. Things were feeling like they used to feel.
And then I went on a date.
For the first time in a long time, I didn't even think about calling my mom on the way home from work. Know why? Because I'm excited and the only thing I want to talk about is my date. But my mom would not be okay with that. And don't tell me that maybe I'm wrong, because I know 100% that I'm right.
I talked about my date with Keely, Kyle, and two people at work, hoping to get it out of my system. But they can't provide the feeling that I want. I want to bond with my mom. I want to get excited and gossip about it. I want to tell her what we did and everything about the girl that I went out with.
The other day my mom told me that one day I may love someone and want to have a baby. No, I do not want to have a baby. I've never wanted to have a baby. I told her that it's not going to happen. The only thing I'd even consider would be adopting an older child one day many many years from now. But honestly that wasn't what bothered me the most.
What bothered me the most is that she was hinting at the fact that she still thinks I'll end up with a guy.
So what am I going to do? Avoid my mom for now, until a better option surfaces. Discussing my date will only put me back to square one. It took me awhile to get our relationship to where it is. So I'm just going to go into hiding for awhile until I figure out how to handle this. It's sad because it's only been one day and I already miss calling my mom.
In my head it feels like everything fell to shit.
I started visiting her more often, I think. At least it felt like I was visiting her more often. Or maybe it was just a feeling of general closeness. Things were feeling like they used to feel.
And then I went on a date.
For the first time in a long time, I didn't even think about calling my mom on the way home from work. Know why? Because I'm excited and the only thing I want to talk about is my date. But my mom would not be okay with that. And don't tell me that maybe I'm wrong, because I know 100% that I'm right.
I talked about my date with Keely, Kyle, and two people at work, hoping to get it out of my system. But they can't provide the feeling that I want. I want to bond with my mom. I want to get excited and gossip about it. I want to tell her what we did and everything about the girl that I went out with.
The other day my mom told me that one day I may love someone and want to have a baby. No, I do not want to have a baby. I've never wanted to have a baby. I told her that it's not going to happen. The only thing I'd even consider would be adopting an older child one day many many years from now. But honestly that wasn't what bothered me the most.
What bothered me the most is that she was hinting at the fact that she still thinks I'll end up with a guy.
So what am I going to do? Avoid my mom for now, until a better option surfaces. Discussing my date will only put me back to square one. It took me awhile to get our relationship to where it is. So I'm just going to go into hiding for awhile until I figure out how to handle this. It's sad because it's only been one day and I already miss calling my mom.
In my head it feels like everything fell to shit.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
nighttime freewrite
I’m starting to see the colors change. Lots of navy blues, maroons, ambers. The sounds are changing. Loud air whipping around, more sirens than usual. Boredom gets to people, I think, during this time of the year. I enjoyed my night tonight… called my mother, my father. Spoke to some good friends about my recent health issues. Nearly had a panic attack at the doctor when they asked me questions that I didn’t want to answer. As I sat there with my swollen ankle dangling under the bright white light, his smile pierced me and made me feel weak. Health wise I’m a mess. I treat my body with love and respect but it responds like I’m an 80 year old woman, it seems. I’m sick of medicines, doctor visits, surgeries, blood, bruises, pain, limping, and the overall fatigue that seems to have taken over me. Even when I have the energy to hang out with my eager friends, I don’t because I know that the energy will pass soon. Sometimes I wish I would just die already because I’m done. I’m just fed up. My body can only take so much and I’m only 24. The thought of what my health will be like 20 years from now is just horrifying. I don’t want to live that long. Fuck, I don’t think I even want to make it beyond 30 anymore. I am so good to myself but you really just can’t fight your genes. Well, you technically can. But I don’t want to. I’m just done.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Fifteen Minute Freewrite
Music used to be an inspiration to me, but now it is locking me up. The sounds keep me from expressing myself artistically, because I am too busy thinking about the pleasure to create my own pieces of art. I need to open my eyes and remove the headphones. I need to look out the window. What do I see right now?
I see a closed market with a worker walking to the dumpster. I see people walking down the sidewalk, bags in hand. They probably took the train into the city. They’re probably going home to their husbands and wives.
Today I was driving down the street to find a man in a wheelchair just sitting in the middle of the road. Just sitting there. I went around him. Everyone feels like they own this town. The kids, they’re bad. The vandalism is becoming a problem. Graffiti, broken windows, cop sirens. This place is rapidly turning into a disgrace and I’m watching patiently, waiting for the moment when North Philly completely infiltrates my neighborhood.
The air smells so good lately though, I can sense my favorite season floating in the air. I wake up and make coffee just so I can dilute it with my homemade pumpkin creamer. The sounds of the cars, hearing the train as it passes by, watching men in business suits walking down the sidewalk- that’s my morning. I feel so at ease here. I feel like I belong here, like I am a puzzle piece that belongs exactly where I am located.
I enjoy the darkness of my apartment as well as the walk from here to the pharmacy. I keep my head pointed at the sidewalk as I walk, because I don’t want to make friends with my neighbors. I don’t know how I feel about my neighbors. I don’t want them to feel any particular way about me. I prefer that they never really realize that I exist in the first place. I just want to be left alone. I just want to live here by myself.
I see a closed market with a worker walking to the dumpster. I see people walking down the sidewalk, bags in hand. They probably took the train into the city. They’re probably going home to their husbands and wives.
Today I was driving down the street to find a man in a wheelchair just sitting in the middle of the road. Just sitting there. I went around him. Everyone feels like they own this town. The kids, they’re bad. The vandalism is becoming a problem. Graffiti, broken windows, cop sirens. This place is rapidly turning into a disgrace and I’m watching patiently, waiting for the moment when North Philly completely infiltrates my neighborhood.
The air smells so good lately though, I can sense my favorite season floating in the air. I wake up and make coffee just so I can dilute it with my homemade pumpkin creamer. The sounds of the cars, hearing the train as it passes by, watching men in business suits walking down the sidewalk- that’s my morning. I feel so at ease here. I feel like I belong here, like I am a puzzle piece that belongs exactly where I am located.
I enjoy the darkness of my apartment as well as the walk from here to the pharmacy. I keep my head pointed at the sidewalk as I walk, because I don’t want to make friends with my neighbors. I don’t know how I feel about my neighbors. I don’t want them to feel any particular way about me. I prefer that they never really realize that I exist in the first place. I just want to be left alone. I just want to live here by myself.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
My Lifestyle.
After receiving an email from my ex's mother in which she referred to my life as a "lifestyle," I needed to vent.
It freaks me out when people refer to my LIFE as a "lifeSTYLE." That's such an outdated term. I just am the way that I am, just like you are the way that you are.
I was sitting next to my coworker talking about gay marriage (he knows about me- I came out on a post it note that said "surprise I'm gay" with a smiley face). He had such an "us" versus "them" mentality when he was talking about marriage. I am not THEM. I am a living breathing human and I'm no different from anyone else.
It amazes me how divided some people think "we" are. We're just effin humans. That's it. Just humans living the life that makes us who we are.
I have trans friends and I've seen a lot of transphobia in my cis friends who have been sheltered and can't really understand anything other than a heteronormative barefoot and pregnant mentality.
When people refer to my life as a lifeSTYLE, I can't help but think of my trans friends and how rough life is for them. They are just people. It is not a lifestyle. Being trans doesn't define them- being a good person, that's what defines them. Ha, "them." Being a good person should be what defines EVERYONE.
I'm so effin sick of this "us" versus "them" mentality.
I know this one transboy in particular- he is adorable, he is smart, he is a HE. Hearing people jokingly say "it" or focus on the fact that he was born a girl is absolutely frustrating to me. Because when I look at him, I just see a cute boy with an even cuter personality. Yes, deep in the caves of my Nicolebrain, I have the fact that he is trans sitting on a shelf somewhere- BUT that's the way it should be... put my "lifestyle" as you would like to call it on a shelf in your brain somewhere, forget about it, and just look at me for what I really am. A silly girl with an even sillier personality.
THEN, maybe THEN the whole marriage thing won't seem to be such a big deal to you. We're all just PEOPLE.
I'm so sick of talking about "being gay." It shouldn't even need to be a discussion. Imagine having to talk about "being a brunette" all of the time and defending your brunette-ness. Imagine having to hold up a post it note that says "surprise I'm brunette" with a smiley face. THAT is how fucking ridiculous this all feels to me.
When I came out to my coworker he said that he felt happy that I "felt comfortable enough" to tell him that. In the back of my head I was thinking "um it's not a big deal, don't feel special." I only felt the need to tell him because our current discussion was gay marriage. It's not like it's some big secret that I was waiting to tell. It was just relevant to tell him at the time.
You know, like how your brunette hair would be a relevant topic discussion at a hair salon.
It freaks me out when people refer to my LIFE as a "lifeSTYLE." That's such an outdated term. I just am the way that I am, just like you are the way that you are.
I was sitting next to my coworker talking about gay marriage (he knows about me- I came out on a post it note that said "surprise I'm gay" with a smiley face). He had such an "us" versus "them" mentality when he was talking about marriage. I am not THEM. I am a living breathing human and I'm no different from anyone else.
It amazes me how divided some people think "we" are. We're just effin humans. That's it. Just humans living the life that makes us who we are.
I have trans friends and I've seen a lot of transphobia in my cis friends who have been sheltered and can't really understand anything other than a heteronormative barefoot and pregnant mentality.
When people refer to my life as a lifeSTYLE, I can't help but think of my trans friends and how rough life is for them. They are just people. It is not a lifestyle. Being trans doesn't define them- being a good person, that's what defines them. Ha, "them." Being a good person should be what defines EVERYONE.
I'm so effin sick of this "us" versus "them" mentality.
I know this one transboy in particular- he is adorable, he is smart, he is a HE. Hearing people jokingly say "it" or focus on the fact that he was born a girl is absolutely frustrating to me. Because when I look at him, I just see a cute boy with an even cuter personality. Yes, deep in the caves of my Nicolebrain, I have the fact that he is trans sitting on a shelf somewhere- BUT that's the way it should be... put my "lifestyle" as you would like to call it on a shelf in your brain somewhere, forget about it, and just look at me for what I really am. A silly girl with an even sillier personality.
THEN, maybe THEN the whole marriage thing won't seem to be such a big deal to you. We're all just PEOPLE.
I'm so sick of talking about "being gay." It shouldn't even need to be a discussion. Imagine having to talk about "being a brunette" all of the time and defending your brunette-ness. Imagine having to hold up a post it note that says "surprise I'm brunette" with a smiley face. THAT is how fucking ridiculous this all feels to me.
When I came out to my coworker he said that he felt happy that I "felt comfortable enough" to tell him that. In the back of my head I was thinking "um it's not a big deal, don't feel special." I only felt the need to tell him because our current discussion was gay marriage. It's not like it's some big secret that I was waiting to tell. It was just relevant to tell him at the time.
You know, like how your brunette hair would be a relevant topic discussion at a hair salon.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Freewriting with tears
I feel like rambling my head off. So I'm going to do a ten minute freewrite. Starting now.
It is now 6:33pm and I just got done drinking an ice cold glass of water. I hear the air pouring from the fan in the other room. My desk is covered in water from the sweat bubbles on my glass, and I just took an acidophilus pill to try to counteract my acid reflux. It was a very rough day at work today, but I survived as I survive everything else. I had plenty of cases to withdraw, hearings to continue, judgments to vacate, agreements to fax, letters to draft: but the smiles from the attorneys that I assisted made me happy about my hard work. On my lunch break I sat in my car in the hot summer air looking at the building that I work in. My shoes were off, I was squinting because the white sky was so bright. I felt like my break was too long. I had so much to do so I honestly considered cutting my thirty minute vacation in half. I am eagerly awaiting the falltime at this point. I've been dreaming of pumpkin lattes- pumpkin everything, really. I love the way the macadam looks blacker in the fall. The leaves pitter patter, the scarf feels soft yet prickly against my pale neck. I miss it so much. I always feel like I'm at home when it's the falltime. In the summer, I feel like an abandoned puppy or something. Like I'm lost and no one is looking for me. In the fall, in reality I'm just as lost as I am in the summer, but for some reason the warmth of my falltime jacket makes me feel like someone has got my back. When really, I know that no one really has my back. I'm pretty alone in the world. It's the way it turned out, I don't know. Will it always be that way? Ask my mother, my father. Ask anyone. They'll all tell you "no" but I definitely know that if it will always be that way: at least I'm trained to deal with it now. Holidays are vacant, my mailbox is always empty. No one visits. No one calls. I'm lucky for the few close friends that I have but when it comes down to it, they won't always be there. I know they won't. We all have lives. And it's sad because they have people that will always be there, families that are tight and will always be there with an arm around them. Me, on the other hand, that's not the case. It's been this way for years and as I said, at least I'm trained. I can live on my own. When I have big medical bills falling on my doorstep, I can handle it. When I need to get a second job, I get a fucking second job. I'm very self sufficient. But I won't always be... I often wonder what it will be like when I'm a lonely little old lady and even more alone than I am right now. Will I die unhappy? Or will I be okay, because I've been trained to accept things for the way that they are? Will I fill in the void with poetry and music, art and falling leaves? I probably will. I've always been one to cherish my loneliness just as much as I cherish the few times where I have someone holding my hand. But it makes me cry, you know, if I think about it too hard. I don't want to die alone.
All right. Got that out of my system.
It is now 6:33pm and I just got done drinking an ice cold glass of water. I hear the air pouring from the fan in the other room. My desk is covered in water from the sweat bubbles on my glass, and I just took an acidophilus pill to try to counteract my acid reflux. It was a very rough day at work today, but I survived as I survive everything else. I had plenty of cases to withdraw, hearings to continue, judgments to vacate, agreements to fax, letters to draft: but the smiles from the attorneys that I assisted made me happy about my hard work. On my lunch break I sat in my car in the hot summer air looking at the building that I work in. My shoes were off, I was squinting because the white sky was so bright. I felt like my break was too long. I had so much to do so I honestly considered cutting my thirty minute vacation in half. I am eagerly awaiting the falltime at this point. I've been dreaming of pumpkin lattes- pumpkin everything, really. I love the way the macadam looks blacker in the fall. The leaves pitter patter, the scarf feels soft yet prickly against my pale neck. I miss it so much. I always feel like I'm at home when it's the falltime. In the summer, I feel like an abandoned puppy or something. Like I'm lost and no one is looking for me. In the fall, in reality I'm just as lost as I am in the summer, but for some reason the warmth of my falltime jacket makes me feel like someone has got my back. When really, I know that no one really has my back. I'm pretty alone in the world. It's the way it turned out, I don't know. Will it always be that way? Ask my mother, my father. Ask anyone. They'll all tell you "no" but I definitely know that if it will always be that way: at least I'm trained to deal with it now. Holidays are vacant, my mailbox is always empty. No one visits. No one calls. I'm lucky for the few close friends that I have but when it comes down to it, they won't always be there. I know they won't. We all have lives. And it's sad because they have people that will always be there, families that are tight and will always be there with an arm around them. Me, on the other hand, that's not the case. It's been this way for years and as I said, at least I'm trained. I can live on my own. When I have big medical bills falling on my doorstep, I can handle it. When I need to get a second job, I get a fucking second job. I'm very self sufficient. But I won't always be... I often wonder what it will be like when I'm a lonely little old lady and even more alone than I am right now. Will I die unhappy? Or will I be okay, because I've been trained to accept things for the way that they are? Will I fill in the void with poetry and music, art and falling leaves? I probably will. I've always been one to cherish my loneliness just as much as I cherish the few times where I have someone holding my hand. But it makes me cry, you know, if I think about it too hard. I don't want to die alone.
All right. Got that out of my system.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
The gays and German whole beans
I am really confused. That was so weird. I don't know, I was suffering from cabin fever due to my recent oral surgery and therefore I made a billion plans for this weekend to get my ass out of this effin apartment. And one of those plans, randomly enough, was inviting my parents to New Hope. If you didn't know, New Hope is pretty gay.
Also, if you didn't know, I haven't hung out with my parents like that in years. Years.
My dad said no. I called him up and begged him because of my cabin fever. Then he said maybe. Then he said okay. And then I called him the night before and he canceled. And then I woke up this morning and begged him. He said maybe and then he said fine. This was proceeded by a long session of bitching on his part. And then two hours later we were surrounded by rainbow flags and penis-shaped pencil toppers.
My dad absolutely loved it. Although I don't know if the "gay factor" really clicked for my parents. I think they might have been oblivious to the cute lesbian couples holding hands and HRC stickers stuck on store windows. Really, my parents are that oblivious.
Regardless, it was fun. And my dad tries so hard to understand me. He pointed to a candle that said "100% vegan" and said, "there you go Nikki" and I smiled. I walked them into hippy stores and had some gay frozen yogurt with them. I rubbed Buddha statue bellies around my super Christian mother and looked through yoga books while my dad looked at antiques.
It was weird because my parents don't know who I am, and today they got a tiny peek into the secret life of Nicole. Like I said, I haven't really hung out with my parents in years. I truly don't remember the last time. I usually just go to my grandmother's house and see them for an hour or two once every couple of months. This was so bizarre.
I almost accidentally kept being a lesbian. (lmfao, that sounds ridiculous, let me explain). I'm used to just checking out girls and whatever and not really worrying about it. But being around my parents, I try to stay pretty neutral. Well, I'm not used to hanging out with them for that long of a time and there were too many pretty girls in New Hope. And I kid you not.. I kept having tiny awkward seconds with my father where we were checking out the same girl at the same time.
There was this stunningly beautiful girl and she was wearing these pretty heels and my mom goes, "Did you see those pretty heels?" and I swear to you, I gave the gayest reaction I've ever given around my mother and it was totally by accident. I literally had a mini-panic attack and tried to cover it up. My dad flinched.
Then again, I could just be crazy because as I said, my parents are very oblivious. I'm probably just being over sensitive to their reactions because like I said, they never get to see the real Nicole.
And this is the weirdest part of all: I got a big hug from each of them at the end of our hang out session and ... invited them to the beach. Yes, I invited them to the beach. I haven't traveled that far with my parents in at least seven years.
Insane. Oh, and my mom even got me a gift! She bought me German coffee beans. I haven't received a physical gift from my parents in a very long time. Yes, they've helped me out financially because I'm struggling to make ends meet with my three student loans and a car loan. But an actual physical gift! That means so much to me. To me, that basically means: "Hey, I'm learning about you and I know you're a coffee snob so here ya go. Coffee.
That was so weird. Wish me luck on the shore adventure. I really want my parents to understand me.
Also, if you didn't know, I haven't hung out with my parents like that in years. Years.
My dad said no. I called him up and begged him because of my cabin fever. Then he said maybe. Then he said okay. And then I called him the night before and he canceled. And then I woke up this morning and begged him. He said maybe and then he said fine. This was proceeded by a long session of bitching on his part. And then two hours later we were surrounded by rainbow flags and penis-shaped pencil toppers.
My dad absolutely loved it. Although I don't know if the "gay factor" really clicked for my parents. I think they might have been oblivious to the cute lesbian couples holding hands and HRC stickers stuck on store windows. Really, my parents are that oblivious.
Regardless, it was fun. And my dad tries so hard to understand me. He pointed to a candle that said "100% vegan" and said, "there you go Nikki" and I smiled. I walked them into hippy stores and had some gay frozen yogurt with them. I rubbed Buddha statue bellies around my super Christian mother and looked through yoga books while my dad looked at antiques.
It was weird because my parents don't know who I am, and today they got a tiny peek into the secret life of Nicole. Like I said, I haven't really hung out with my parents in years. I truly don't remember the last time. I usually just go to my grandmother's house and see them for an hour or two once every couple of months. This was so bizarre.
I almost accidentally kept being a lesbian. (lmfao, that sounds ridiculous, let me explain). I'm used to just checking out girls and whatever and not really worrying about it. But being around my parents, I try to stay pretty neutral. Well, I'm not used to hanging out with them for that long of a time and there were too many pretty girls in New Hope. And I kid you not.. I kept having tiny awkward seconds with my father where we were checking out the same girl at the same time.
There was this stunningly beautiful girl and she was wearing these pretty heels and my mom goes, "Did you see those pretty heels?" and I swear to you, I gave the gayest reaction I've ever given around my mother and it was totally by accident. I literally had a mini-panic attack and tried to cover it up. My dad flinched.
Then again, I could just be crazy because as I said, my parents are very oblivious. I'm probably just being over sensitive to their reactions because like I said, they never get to see the real Nicole.
And this is the weirdest part of all: I got a big hug from each of them at the end of our hang out session and ... invited them to the beach. Yes, I invited them to the beach. I haven't traveled that far with my parents in at least seven years.
Insane. Oh, and my mom even got me a gift! She bought me German coffee beans. I haven't received a physical gift from my parents in a very long time. Yes, they've helped me out financially because I'm struggling to make ends meet with my three student loans and a car loan. But an actual physical gift! That means so much to me. To me, that basically means: "Hey, I'm learning about you and I know you're a coffee snob so here ya go. Coffee.
That was so weird. Wish me luck on the shore adventure. I really want my parents to understand me.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Things are the way they are
My life got really confusing really fast. And I'm happy, I'm very happy. My social life has been great. I've been mostly on good terms with my parents. "Good" meaning that I call them on my way home from work Monday-Friday to see how they're doing.
My job's going great. The director of operations thanked me for my hard work and told me that I'm doing a great job, which made me feel appreciated.
I just feel like I'm floating though. "Floating" is the best word I can think of. And there is something that triggered it. I work my ass off for one reason: To meet my goal of paying off all of my loans within the next five years. I had nearly enough saved up to pay off my car loan this year.
And then I had a bit of a medical emergency. A cyst was found in my mouth during a CT scan and I had to get a tooth removed. Nearly $4,000 later and I feel unsafe. I would not be able to afford another emergency like that without living on ramen noodles and tap water.
Everything was planned out perfectly before this happened. I could have paid off one of my four loans and moved closer to center city like I initially wanted to. But now I don't know if I can take the risk of another move with such a small financial safety net.
Life is hard; but I'm lucky. I was thinking about it today. I have a good job considering the economy. I live on my own. I make my own decisions. I have my bachelor's degree. I got a nice brand new shiny vehicle. I have the best friends a girl could ever ask for.
It's not me, it's the state of the economy that makes my accomplishments seem so much smaller than they are. Everyone in my age group is struggling and I should be thankful that I can live the way that I do, you know? Yeah, money is tight. But I can go out for a drink now and then, buy a subscription to Suicide Girls, and go to Cold Stone for blueberry pomegranate frozen yogurt covered in crushed graham cracker every couple of weeks.
I know some people who are very lucky in life. People who got amazing paying jobs right out of college. But that's rare anymore, so I need to stop being so distraught over the fact that I'm not one of them. If a teaching job was available to me right after college, I probably would have taken it and I'd probably be making $10k more than what I'm making now.
But it wasn't. And it's not my fault. And I did the best that I could and I'm making enough to get by on my own.
But it particularly sucks when you blow $4,000 on a medical emergency. It is what it is. Or, in my dad's words, "at some point in life, Nikki, you gotta realize that, you know, things are the way they are and there is nothing you can do about it."
I can't change things. And I should really, if anything, be thankful that I had the $4,000 laying around. I sue people all day at work who are in debt, probably for similar reasons. And I should be thankful that some paralegal in Philly isn't filing a lawsuit against me right now.
My job's going great. The director of operations thanked me for my hard work and told me that I'm doing a great job, which made me feel appreciated.
I just feel like I'm floating though. "Floating" is the best word I can think of. And there is something that triggered it. I work my ass off for one reason: To meet my goal of paying off all of my loans within the next five years. I had nearly enough saved up to pay off my car loan this year.
And then I had a bit of a medical emergency. A cyst was found in my mouth during a CT scan and I had to get a tooth removed. Nearly $4,000 later and I feel unsafe. I would not be able to afford another emergency like that without living on ramen noodles and tap water.
Everything was planned out perfectly before this happened. I could have paid off one of my four loans and moved closer to center city like I initially wanted to. But now I don't know if I can take the risk of another move with such a small financial safety net.
Life is hard; but I'm lucky. I was thinking about it today. I have a good job considering the economy. I live on my own. I make my own decisions. I have my bachelor's degree. I got a nice brand new shiny vehicle. I have the best friends a girl could ever ask for.
It's not me, it's the state of the economy that makes my accomplishments seem so much smaller than they are. Everyone in my age group is struggling and I should be thankful that I can live the way that I do, you know? Yeah, money is tight. But I can go out for a drink now and then, buy a subscription to Suicide Girls, and go to Cold Stone for blueberry pomegranate frozen yogurt covered in crushed graham cracker every couple of weeks.
I know some people who are very lucky in life. People who got amazing paying jobs right out of college. But that's rare anymore, so I need to stop being so distraught over the fact that I'm not one of them. If a teaching job was available to me right after college, I probably would have taken it and I'd probably be making $10k more than what I'm making now.
But it wasn't. And it's not my fault. And I did the best that I could and I'm making enough to get by on my own.
But it particularly sucks when you blow $4,000 on a medical emergency. It is what it is. Or, in my dad's words, "at some point in life, Nikki, you gotta realize that, you know, things are the way they are and there is nothing you can do about it."
I can't change things. And I should really, if anything, be thankful that I had the $4,000 laying around. I sue people all day at work who are in debt, probably for similar reasons. And I should be thankful that some paralegal in Philly isn't filing a lawsuit against me right now.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Sunny days
I don't even know where to begin. This is going to be horribly written; I can sense it. I mean, I just used a fucking semi-colon. A lot has changed and I'm happy with all of the changes. I am going to ramble like there is no tomorrow.
Keith has officially stepped down from friend status and Kyle is my new best friend. And Keely loves him so much. The first time all three of us hung out together, we crashed a party and had our half-eaten food taken away from us by the bar staff. We walked the streets topless. I danced in my underwear in a thunderstorm while being sprayed down with a garden hose. Keely and Kyle kissed in the rain. We had a three-way bed snuggle. And Keely got so drunk that she puked in her tub and completely forgot everything that happened. Mind you, Keely's dad was visiting during all of this and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm insane now.
We offered him shots.
Keely and I have a strong friendship again. I went to her house the other day to have "girly cocktails" which actually turned into beer, grilling, and a trip to a hardware store. Not shocked at all. I heart that crazy queer girl to pieces.
Speaking of that crazy queer girl, she made an impromptu visit to my apartment the other day and forced me to look at pictures of erections for a good hour. I was like "this is not happening right now." And then we watched drag queens for a good twenty minutes, which I was totally okay with. AND THEN I showed her some hot naked girls and she left.
What a terrible lesbian. But apparently that's the thing now. I hung out with my ex girlfriend who is a gold star lesbian and we discussed penises for about an hour.
My social life has been really looking up. I have so many wonderful friends in my life and I love them all with every piece of my heart. This weekend I was going to go visit a good friend in DC but due to unforeseen circumstances, I had to cancel. I'm so bummed.
My work life is wonderful. I'm busting out lawsuits left and right and I'm really showing them that I'm a great worker. I hope that they have noticed it. I've also been considering a part time job, but more importantly, I've been considering bartending school. I think I would be a great bartender and it'd be a great way to pay off my student loans faster.
And I'm considering moving into Philly at the end of this year, to a place with tons and tons of bars. I think it would be a good decision.
Writing has been on the back burner and I'm okay with that. It comes, it goes.. and I let it. It's my favorite thing in the world and I'm not going to make it become work. I'm always inspired, I'll say that. I can easily write a poem or a short story right this second. But I don't want to right this second.
I plan on going on a solo trip to the beach in the next few weeks to soak up some sun and write my little heart out. I'm looking forward to it. <-- See that? That's how I look at writing. I do it when I like it, not when I'm forcing myself to like it. I'm 24 and I've had various pieces published. It'll keep happening and honestly I'm not in a rush.
What else?
Well, I'm on a family strike. My mom still hates me, I still somewhat despise her. My dad is okay and I feel bad because he suffers due to my mother hatred. My great nephew's birthday party is next weekend or whatever and I'm not going because I don't know...
I just feel like my family doesn't ever reach out to me. And then they want me to go out of my way to spend time with them. What is the point, really? I'm starting to really accept that my family and I just don't click at all. Not everyone has the amazing family that every American TV show glorifies. I don't have that family.
I have a dad who loves me with all of his heart. I have a grandmother who loves me with all of her heart. And I have a mother who had a very serious head injury who will never love me for who I am, but loves me because I'm her daughter and that's about it.
And that's really all that I can say.
Well, one last thing: I love my sister Marie because she reaches out to me. But that's it. That's really all that I can say.
That's why making tight bonds with friends is so important to me. When it comes down to it, I really have nothing else. I don't think I've ever been close to my family, except for when I was faking it. I faked it for a good five years. I'm done faking it. I just want to be myself. Yeah, I'm sure I'll have great family moments in my future but I really don't plan on going out of my way at all. Nor do I plan on faking it.
I just want to be myself. I want to accept myself and love myself. And I feel like surrounding myself with people who don't accept me and love me for who I am is only going to make this harder for me. My niece especially (my great nephew's mother who is throwing the party) always kind of made me hate myself.
I don't want to hate myself.
Keith has officially stepped down from friend status and Kyle is my new best friend. And Keely loves him so much. The first time all three of us hung out together, we crashed a party and had our half-eaten food taken away from us by the bar staff. We walked the streets topless. I danced in my underwear in a thunderstorm while being sprayed down with a garden hose. Keely and Kyle kissed in the rain. We had a three-way bed snuggle. And Keely got so drunk that she puked in her tub and completely forgot everything that happened. Mind you, Keely's dad was visiting during all of this and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm insane now.
We offered him shots.
Keely and I have a strong friendship again. I went to her house the other day to have "girly cocktails" which actually turned into beer, grilling, and a trip to a hardware store. Not shocked at all. I heart that crazy queer girl to pieces.
Speaking of that crazy queer girl, she made an impromptu visit to my apartment the other day and forced me to look at pictures of erections for a good hour. I was like "this is not happening right now." And then we watched drag queens for a good twenty minutes, which I was totally okay with. AND THEN I showed her some hot naked girls and she left.
What a terrible lesbian. But apparently that's the thing now. I hung out with my ex girlfriend who is a gold star lesbian and we discussed penises for about an hour.
My social life has been really looking up. I have so many wonderful friends in my life and I love them all with every piece of my heart. This weekend I was going to go visit a good friend in DC but due to unforeseen circumstances, I had to cancel. I'm so bummed.
My work life is wonderful. I'm busting out lawsuits left and right and I'm really showing them that I'm a great worker. I hope that they have noticed it. I've also been considering a part time job, but more importantly, I've been considering bartending school. I think I would be a great bartender and it'd be a great way to pay off my student loans faster.
And I'm considering moving into Philly at the end of this year, to a place with tons and tons of bars. I think it would be a good decision.
Writing has been on the back burner and I'm okay with that. It comes, it goes.. and I let it. It's my favorite thing in the world and I'm not going to make it become work. I'm always inspired, I'll say that. I can easily write a poem or a short story right this second. But I don't want to right this second.
I plan on going on a solo trip to the beach in the next few weeks to soak up some sun and write my little heart out. I'm looking forward to it. <-- See that? That's how I look at writing. I do it when I like it, not when I'm forcing myself to like it. I'm 24 and I've had various pieces published. It'll keep happening and honestly I'm not in a rush.
What else?
Well, I'm on a family strike. My mom still hates me, I still somewhat despise her. My dad is okay and I feel bad because he suffers due to my mother hatred. My great nephew's birthday party is next weekend or whatever and I'm not going because I don't know...
I just feel like my family doesn't ever reach out to me. And then they want me to go out of my way to spend time with them. What is the point, really? I'm starting to really accept that my family and I just don't click at all. Not everyone has the amazing family that every American TV show glorifies. I don't have that family.
I have a dad who loves me with all of his heart. I have a grandmother who loves me with all of her heart. And I have a mother who had a very serious head injury who will never love me for who I am, but loves me because I'm her daughter and that's about it.
And that's really all that I can say.
Well, one last thing: I love my sister Marie because she reaches out to me. But that's it. That's really all that I can say.
That's why making tight bonds with friends is so important to me. When it comes down to it, I really have nothing else. I don't think I've ever been close to my family, except for when I was faking it. I faked it for a good five years. I'm done faking it. I just want to be myself. Yeah, I'm sure I'll have great family moments in my future but I really don't plan on going out of my way at all. Nor do I plan on faking it.
I just want to be myself. I want to accept myself and love myself. And I feel like surrounding myself with people who don't accept me and love me for who I am is only going to make this harder for me. My niece especially (my great nephew's mother who is throwing the party) always kind of made me hate myself.
I don't want to hate myself.
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