Super Rich Kids
I finally got to the point in this blog where more than 10 people are reading a post. While I'm editing, I mean. I reached the blog post where I first got over 10 views. I am thrilled that this is a more common occurrence now. I still haven't reached 100 views on any one post, but I'm honestly just glad you're here.
I have a large chunk of hair missing. This is my fault. I don't think it's quite golf ball sized, but it's bigger than a marble. Maybe a large marble? I remember playing marbles as a kid and really enjoying it. I love marbles as they are- the shiny and often colorful round things. They're so smooth and cold, they seem perfect for shoving a bunch in your mouth. Not that I've done this. I think I got a bean up my nose once...maybe a pebble? But I definitely didn't stick a fistful of marbles in my maw. I would tell you. It just seems like a good idea. Anyway, it wasn't just the appeal of the marbles themselves that I liked. I don't remember if I was any good, but it was one of the few times growing up that my mother would pay positive attention to me. She would draw a circle with chalk outside, or in the living room, and we'd just play. I guess it's one of the few times I can remember, anyway. I'm sure she read to me as a child or something. I wonder if we still have marbles. I think she's a little too worn to sit on the ground, though.
I have started packing and for the first time in a long time almost all my dishes are clean. Almost. I am much better about keeping my clothes clean because I am not as involved in the process. I just make the robot do it. While I am good about washing clothes I am less so about putting them away. I have to be more involved in that process. I prefer to be involved in my life as little as possible.
In going back through my older posts I have found some good stuff. There are a lot of TV shows I almost completely forgot about...those can mostly remain irrelevant. I did find a couple of great songs to add to my playlists. I completely forgot that Donald Glover did a super cute cover of "Marry You" for Magic Mike XXL- which confirms for me a long told assertion that it is much better than the original. I also ran across Carly Rae Jepsen's adorable song about Tom Hanks. I have also become aware of long running love affairs with John Oliver and Sufjan Stevens. The last two posts were not the beginning of this blog heavily referencing Sufjan and they certainly won't be the last.
I cannot care about Scandal any less. ::SPOILERS:: The way this show and this last awful season has developed will not possibly end in a way that is satisfying. Especially because as we come down to the finish line, Olivia and Fitz seem dead set on crossing it together. They've NEVER been a good couple. Jake has been destroyed as a character and turned into some sad psychotic ex. This show has aged Scott Foley like he is really president. He's been the primary whipping boy for several seasons and it's been dragging his face down. That all the scandal has been leading down to a big speech about exposing everything so that they can "stand in the light" feels ridiculous and a waste of time. Like Dexter floating off into the sunset, Lost being purgatory or whatever, or the dude from How I Met Your Mother ending up with Robin. It's not a twist that was unpredictable- it was a twist no one wanted to let themselves see coming. We want to believe the things we love and invested so much of our lives in won't be so lazy when they see us off. Maybe I am wrong, maybe this is a really impressive way to end things. Maybe this took courage.
I keep thinking of when I was younger and I would cut myself on the tabs of soda cans. It happened as frequently as I would fall on that one spot of the sidewalk that made itself my enemy. People started opening them for me because every time I would bleed. Maybe I would cry? I have always cried a lot. Sometimes, for no real reason other than my anxiety acting up, I am scared of cutting open my fingers.
I have started to wonder if I am killing my chances of a future with someone with this blog. I feel like the answer is no, because the chances that someone who likes me stumbles upon this seems slim. Unless they do some internet stalking and try to view my Facebook profile. Then I'm screwed.
I might as well go all in. I have a few more memoiries that I am trying to piece together to explain who I became to myself. (Side note: I bought some aloe drink from the 7/11 near by, and it is, predictably, terrible. But the 7/11 has ice cream from our local upscale ice cream shop, so- I guess I have to wonder where their priorities are.) I kissed a boy in, I think, 1st grade? I don't think it was kindergarten because that was when I cried because a boy wouldn't sit next to me. I told you I cried a lot. But in the instance of kissing the boy, which I honestly don't know how I got the idea to do, I made him cry. I started flipping the script very early on by being the sexual harasser- I'm so subversive. I really don't remember much else about this time period. I don't even really remember the kid's face. I know he was soft-spoken, shy, I think he might have had long lashes. He probably had a pudgy little face because we all did at the time. Some of us have cycled back. I feel like he had glasses, but I don't remember. He might have gotten them later on because I think we were in the same class for a few years. They definitely called my parents in. They must have called his in as well. As to whether they met, I don't know. I don't remember getting in trouble either...just another case of the system turning a blind eye to poor Hispanic babies. Injustice starts at an early age, and getting away with this small crime surely taught me I could do whatever I want.
As such, I just dyed my hair. I'm definitely going to get shit for it if it's still in there when I go celebrate the newest baby's first birthday party. I didn't quite use box dye, which is what my friend has nagged me about before...I just used some temporary, slightly higher brand stuff. It was a shimmery purple gel that looked like the fun glues that have no real purpose. I guess you sometimes used them to write with on triboards? Except it smells like 1000 times more toxic. Like I put a bag I sprayed spray paint into inside of a bag dipped in gasoline and huffed. It's only semi-permanent though, so it's gotta be better for my hair than if I had used wholly permanent dye? It's probably much worse. I've just coated my hair in gooey toxins just so a little bit of tint will cover the regrettable dye job I got like 6 months ago. My friend also expressed her disappointment in me then for compulsively letting white people who didn't know what they were doing with ethnic hair turn my hair orange. We have another friend who is a hairstylist and actually quite good at color- so she is always a little more annoyed that I don't utilize this resource. But she knows I am impulsive, cheap and don't take care of myself...so really it's on her for being so disappointed. She knows better than to set her expectations so high.
I will leave you on a note regarding the show For The People, which is the latest ensemble courtroom drama, that I want to say Shonda Rhimes has something to do with, but I may just be assuming that because it's on ABC and is pretty good so far. It just dropped the dialogue that cinches my defense of this series regardless of how ridiculous it may grow to be (see: Scandal) One of the lawyers says the chances of getting an opportunity again is "slim to nada"...and then the character he is talking to says, "Don't do that. Mix English and Spanish in the same sentence...it's terrible." Which it is. And I want people to stop doing that just as much as I want white women to stop calling me "chica". It might be petty of me, but I have never minded being petty.
Next time- I think I'll discuss my first long-term crush. I'm convinced that cataloging these memories will help me hold onto the picture of a desperate girl that I want to avoid being going forward.
I have a large chunk of hair missing. This is my fault. I don't think it's quite golf ball sized, but it's bigger than a marble. Maybe a large marble? I remember playing marbles as a kid and really enjoying it. I love marbles as they are- the shiny and often colorful round things. They're so smooth and cold, they seem perfect for shoving a bunch in your mouth. Not that I've done this. I think I got a bean up my nose once...maybe a pebble? But I definitely didn't stick a fistful of marbles in my maw. I would tell you. It just seems like a good idea. Anyway, it wasn't just the appeal of the marbles themselves that I liked. I don't remember if I was any good, but it was one of the few times growing up that my mother would pay positive attention to me. She would draw a circle with chalk outside, or in the living room, and we'd just play. I guess it's one of the few times I can remember, anyway. I'm sure she read to me as a child or something. I wonder if we still have marbles. I think she's a little too worn to sit on the ground, though.
I have started packing and for the first time in a long time almost all my dishes are clean. Almost. I am much better about keeping my clothes clean because I am not as involved in the process. I just make the robot do it. While I am good about washing clothes I am less so about putting them away. I have to be more involved in that process. I prefer to be involved in my life as little as possible.
In going back through my older posts I have found some good stuff. There are a lot of TV shows I almost completely forgot about...those can mostly remain irrelevant. I did find a couple of great songs to add to my playlists. I completely forgot that Donald Glover did a super cute cover of "Marry You" for Magic Mike XXL- which confirms for me a long told assertion that it is much better than the original. I also ran across Carly Rae Jepsen's adorable song about Tom Hanks. I have also become aware of long running love affairs with John Oliver and Sufjan Stevens. The last two posts were not the beginning of this blog heavily referencing Sufjan and they certainly won't be the last.
I cannot care about Scandal any less. ::SPOILERS:: The way this show and this last awful season has developed will not possibly end in a way that is satisfying. Especially because as we come down to the finish line, Olivia and Fitz seem dead set on crossing it together. They've NEVER been a good couple. Jake has been destroyed as a character and turned into some sad psychotic ex. This show has aged Scott Foley like he is really president. He's been the primary whipping boy for several seasons and it's been dragging his face down. That all the scandal has been leading down to a big speech about exposing everything so that they can "stand in the light" feels ridiculous and a waste of time. Like Dexter floating off into the sunset, Lost being purgatory or whatever, or the dude from How I Met Your Mother ending up with Robin. It's not a twist that was unpredictable- it was a twist no one wanted to let themselves see coming. We want to believe the things we love and invested so much of our lives in won't be so lazy when they see us off. Maybe I am wrong, maybe this is a really impressive way to end things. Maybe this took courage.
I keep thinking of when I was younger and I would cut myself on the tabs of soda cans. It happened as frequently as I would fall on that one spot of the sidewalk that made itself my enemy. People started opening them for me because every time I would bleed. Maybe I would cry? I have always cried a lot. Sometimes, for no real reason other than my anxiety acting up, I am scared of cutting open my fingers.
I have started to wonder if I am killing my chances of a future with someone with this blog. I feel like the answer is no, because the chances that someone who likes me stumbles upon this seems slim. Unless they do some internet stalking and try to view my Facebook profile. Then I'm screwed.
I might as well go all in. I have a few more memoiries that I am trying to piece together to explain who I became to myself. (Side note: I bought some aloe drink from the 7/11 near by, and it is, predictably, terrible. But the 7/11 has ice cream from our local upscale ice cream shop, so- I guess I have to wonder where their priorities are.) I kissed a boy in, I think, 1st grade? I don't think it was kindergarten because that was when I cried because a boy wouldn't sit next to me. I told you I cried a lot. But in the instance of kissing the boy, which I honestly don't know how I got the idea to do, I made him cry. I started flipping the script very early on by being the sexual harasser- I'm so subversive. I really don't remember much else about this time period. I don't even really remember the kid's face. I know he was soft-spoken, shy, I think he might have had long lashes. He probably had a pudgy little face because we all did at the time. Some of us have cycled back. I feel like he had glasses, but I don't remember. He might have gotten them later on because I think we were in the same class for a few years. They definitely called my parents in. They must have called his in as well. As to whether they met, I don't know. I don't remember getting in trouble either...just another case of the system turning a blind eye to poor Hispanic babies. Injustice starts at an early age, and getting away with this small crime surely taught me I could do whatever I want.
As such, I just dyed my hair. I'm definitely going to get shit for it if it's still in there when I go celebrate the newest baby's first birthday party. I didn't quite use box dye, which is what my friend has nagged me about before...I just used some temporary, slightly higher brand stuff. It was a shimmery purple gel that looked like the fun glues that have no real purpose. I guess you sometimes used them to write with on triboards? Except it smells like 1000 times more toxic. Like I put a bag I sprayed spray paint into inside of a bag dipped in gasoline and huffed. It's only semi-permanent though, so it's gotta be better for my hair than if I had used wholly permanent dye? It's probably much worse. I've just coated my hair in gooey toxins just so a little bit of tint will cover the regrettable dye job I got like 6 months ago. My friend also expressed her disappointment in me then for compulsively letting white people who didn't know what they were doing with ethnic hair turn my hair orange. We have another friend who is a hairstylist and actually quite good at color- so she is always a little more annoyed that I don't utilize this resource. But she knows I am impulsive, cheap and don't take care of myself...so really it's on her for being so disappointed. She knows better than to set her expectations so high.
I will leave you on a note regarding the show For The People, which is the latest ensemble courtroom drama, that I want to say Shonda Rhimes has something to do with, but I may just be assuming that because it's on ABC and is pretty good so far. It just dropped the dialogue that cinches my defense of this series regardless of how ridiculous it may grow to be (see: Scandal) One of the lawyers says the chances of getting an opportunity again is "slim to nada"...and then the character he is talking to says, "Don't do that. Mix English and Spanish in the same sentence...it's terrible." Which it is. And I want people to stop doing that just as much as I want white women to stop calling me "chica". It might be petty of me, but I have never minded being petty.
Next time- I think I'll discuss my first long-term crush. I'm convinced that cataloging these memories will help me hold onto the picture of a desperate girl that I want to avoid being going forward.
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