Problematic

My father has a metal tooth (I don't remember if it's silver or gold, I'll have to note it next time he smiles), a crooked smile (I think because of the tooth), a pot-belly and a big ego. Machismo, I think is the word. Something he got in Mexico, like the metal tooth. He's had it the whole time I've known him, and I am certain it is from Mexico because the only time I've been out of the United States was when we went to Mexico for my mother's dental work. I am also certain that it is very old work because I have never been offered a metal crown. I assume that it was the cheaper option at the time. I suppose that's one way that dentistry has improved, it surely isn't in the drills. My father worked as an interior painter for over 20 years, before he was fired, or laid off, I don't know how it was qualified. He was either fired for being his sort-of-fussy self, which he didn't expose to me often, but through his frequent arguments with my mot

This interpersonal communication class is not going well... I feel like I am becoming actively aggressive in communication toward other people because of how much I dislike this course. I have also discovered that I am a terrible actress; I'm too self-conscious. I was asked to make a video of my responses to some prompts as a way of completing the oral portion of the class, and, in reviewing my responses to edit them all together, I realized that I do not know how to communicate with others in a way that does not seem to have an underlying judgmental tone. Basically, this class is just reinforcing my sense that I will not advance in business based on my personality. Now, moving away from the last heavy-handed post about why I need feminism, I have further musings on why I probably need feminism: I have a type. A guy type. A type of guy that I cannot avoid becoming attracted to. Luckily/unluckily this type seems to exist solely in fiction, so I don't have to be too concerned

I'll take the time to find where the folds will be and draw pictures of us in the margins. Every note is an open secret. The loud whispers of a child, there's a foolish expectation you'll keep between us, but a deeper understanding that everyone will know. S'mores Halo Top is garbage. I don't know why I even got Halo Top, it's not like I felt diet ice cream was something I needed to add into my rotation of snacks. Today's vignettes: Like A Virgin There are a few things I have never forgotten. It's not really as though all of them are momentous occasions. I remember the difficulty of learning to ride a bike from my mom on our driveway. We live on a little hill. Perhaps not a hill. A mound? There's a significant slope to the drive way, either way, and it is cracked. The cracks aren't small, either. They're great big slabs of concrete that have broken away from the rest of the driveway and would wobble if you stood on them. This was not t

I have developed this terrible habit of staying up over-night every couple of days. I just find something to do and tell myself every hour that I will go to sleep until I edge so close to morning that it makes no sense to anymore. I am hoping that now that I have a job I will correct this behavior. It seems I spend a lot of time putting faith into my future self. I've also decided that I'm pretty well over school. As much as I enjoy this campus, I am ready to be in a different stage in life. Well, maybe I am not well prepared, but I am impatient- this is the term of my readiness.  Actually, my current classes have been very useful in enlightening me to the fact that I am highly unprepared for the work force. I have spent the last 10 years engaging with it almost completely incorrectly, it seems. I think I knew that in some ways, but I didn't think there would be nearly the same emphasis for networking with lower-level positions as there is. Hopefully this truly

The only path I have memorized is the one out of town. When I know how to get around I'll know it's time to move on. The contents of my life are as such: 2% wigs 10% costume clothing 20% shoes I don't wear 15%  notebooks with 5 pages written on 5% canvases 3% old textbooks 65% things that any reasonable person would objectively call garbage 9% not knowing how percentages work Life is a constant struggle of trying to determine how much ignorance I can play off as humor and the answer is typically not as much as I would like to. It's weird packing up my own life for part of the week then assessing and packing someone else's life. My sister has left some things in the house that she has vacated that I will be taking over. Last weekend I bought paint and I returned to find the walls pleasant shades of blue. This week I pulled over even more of the non-essential-but-clean items in my apartment. This included the kitten. She did not enjoy the ri

I think failure gets harder when you get older. It hurts more. There's a larger sense of permanence to it. When you're young everything is changing all the time. It's supposed to. Your body is constantly changing. Your class, your grade, your friends change annually and there's a safety in the consistent rate of change. The failures of yesterday aren't that important because the potential of the next year feels assured. And suddenly the constant change becomes a problem. At 30 if you are still making big moves on an annual basis there is something wrong. The safety nets are gone and all excusable drastic changes should have been made by 22. You're well past the acceptable age of a Taylor Swift song title or Adele album so you need to settle the fuck down. I live in a blue house. I think I want it purple. I'm finally making money. I want more. I don't know much else on the daily. I am constantly surprised that I seem to be keeping up with my ass