Thursday, October 26, 2017

"Here I am. . . the Too Much Woman, with my too-tender heart and my too-much emotions."

There is an article going around Facebook about  "The Too Much Woman."  I resonate with this, greatly.  It is me and I am unapologetic.  Why?  Because it's not "too much."  It's enough.  When something is a need, it's never too much. 

This is my existence--my truth in living.  I've never been any less than this type of woman.  And for that article to be a whole viral phenomenon, I'm obviously not the only one.  I dive in headfirst because I am fearless.  It costs me more energy to reign it in than it does to go all out.  I feel deeply and love hard.  And damn me for expecting the same. 

I struggle with believing an all-in style love exists.  But it must, because I'm it.  I'm here and I am the too much-just enough type.  There's got to be someone out there who can rival my force.  Someone worth my time and dedication?  I want enough.  I need enough.  I crave it with a hunger in my gut that radiates throughout my whole body. 

You might try and convince me that I should be that person for myself, and I'll agree.  I love myself with that passion, too.  I'm not needy in that way.  It's because I have such dedication and emotion invested in myself, that I want a love that will compete.  I refuse to give up and I will not settle. 

It will not happen right away.  I understand that and I don't ask that of my future partner.  But when we are there, it will be intense.  There will be lots of attention; your needs will not be neglected.  I give this vibe in all of my relationships when I care for friends and family, too.  I'll make you dinner.  I'll create art for your walls.  I'll answer your texts at 3:00 a.m. because you're awake and need someone to talk with.  I'm the woman who will send you a handwritten letter when you're down.  I'm the mom who stays up all night sewing costumes baking elaborate cakes because my kids deserve something great and I am capable of greatness. 

There's an air of vulnerability in this.  I've been taken advantage of, as most people have in their lives.  It's not a new concept that there are predators in our society.  But I'm stronger for it.  I heal quickly and have a high tolerance for pain. It's a superpower that accompanies feeling things so deeply and intensely.  It's inevitable to gain resilience to withstand the landing when one falls so far and fast. 

Today's subject line quote is from "The Too Much Woman" by Ev'Yan Whitney.

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?

My sewing machine is a dick.  It's less than a week before Halloween and it's been jamming worse than the reggae they've been blairing at Toyota lately.  It's mostly due to the fabric of Willow's costume, so I'm made the decision to be a shitty mom and revamp the whole concept.  Instead of her being "Boo" in her monster outfit from "Monster's Inc.," I'm just putting her in a pink tee with purple leggings and pigtails, maybe a Mike Wazowski doll if I can get a hold of one in time.  My nanny, Tara, is dressing as Sully so it should be fairly obvious what we're going for.  I hope. 

I do feel really shitty for taking the super lazy route.  I used to be a Pinterest mom, now I'm an Amazon Prime mom...only with no money.  I know I'm not a bad mom, I just feel like less of a mother.  I mean, I did still save Willow from the horrors of hearing the bus outside our house again this morning.  That's something!

Wanna know what else I'm bad at?  Following through with the no dating thing.  It's been less than a week and I have a date on Friday.  Granted, it's a follow up date from back in July.  So maybe it doesn't count against me on the front of not actively trying to date?  Cut me some slack!  You all are entertained, I'm sure.  At least this guy never tried to mansplain how a fork works.  (Yes, that happened and it was the shortest date I've ever been on).  In fact, it was a rather memorable time and I'm looking forward to recreating it.

Today's subject line quote is Black Phillip, "The Witch."

Sunday, October 22, 2017

"Son, you got a panty on your head."

I wear many hats--the figurative ones.  My hair is too short for literal hair coverage at this point, though the 20's style cloches are probably my favorite thing to buy and never wear.  Regardless, I'm talking about the multiple aspects of myself that I have to take off and put on at different times, the parts of myself that often clash with whatever else I'm wearing or carrying at the time.

My mom hat had a terrible dream last night that left me in tears when I woke.  I had to check on my babies and when Willow woke up, I held her so tightly.  I think we both needed that extended snuggle.  In my nightmare, she went missing.  Nobody could figure out who had seen her last and part of me is still terrified to leave her side this morning, much less send her to daycare this week.

Whatever hat is responsible for self care keeps flying off and making me chase it down the street. I just peeled off the remainder of my gel nail polish, here at my desk, in some sort of anxious fit of boredom and embarrasment of them chipping.  It is a well known fact that I feel naked without nail polish, so I'm not sure what possessed me to think scratched up, bare nails was a brilliant alternative to a couple flaking. 

I'm pretty sure my work hat is just a propellor beanie.

Halloween's got my crafty hat on standby.  I keep procrastinating and now have both Willow's costume to begin, much less finish, as well as an adult Zapp Brannigan circa Futurama that I promised my friend Dan.  I also need to practice my makeup for my costume and make a kickass pumpkin cake for work.  All exciting endeavors, but slightly stressful trying to get it all finished between work and parenting. 

Lately, I've worn a dunce cap in the fact that I'm probably a phone/social media addict.  I'm an obsessive texter and many of you have fallen victim to my incessant communications.  I just get so bored when I'm wearing my stupid work beanie that I reach out, a lot.  A LOT.  So if I've been annoying the shit out of you lately, #sorrynotsorry. 

Finally, my whole point of hat talk is that I think I'm going to hang up my dating hat for a while.  I start school in 3 weeks, so that will help fill whatever void I'm feeling between not dating and retiring from derby.  In the mean time, I'm going to be dating myself.  Focusing on treating myself well and building that relationship.  My most recent blog topic left me pretty raw, as well.  So it might be good to take some time to reflect on those experiences.  I deserve some devoted attention and I'm going to be the one to give it to me.  So wish me luck that this one works out because the breakup will be a bitch.

Today's subject line quote is from "Raising Arizona."

Friday, October 20, 2017

Silencing women silences justice

Can we take a minute to talk about the whole #MeToo movement?  Because I want to talk about it, but I can't.  Trauma isn't something you announce to the world.  It makes everyone squirm because it's uncomfortable to think about.  It often makes people defensive because nobody wants to think about themselves being assaulty, but it's easier than you think. Survivors have different reactions and mixed emotions to revisiting the idea of harassment and assault, so navigating it publicly is difficult.  But I feel, just like with mental health advocacy, that the taboo surrounding sexual assault needs to be addressed. 

For me, there is a lot of guilt.  I feel like there is more I could have done to prevent it.  My body betrays my mental state.  It doesn't seem to matter that I've made my intentions clear, because he will take it as an invitation to continue.  "I'm not in the mood/interested/etc." becomes a battle cry to get me to change my mind.  I've been told, "I can't help it, I'm just so attracted to you" by multiple men.  I've been told to be careful with my words because it's a "serious allegation against a man" and that I should be really sure I'm not the one to blame. 

Am I sure?  No.  I never will be.  I'm sure there is more I could do.  Should I never drink alcohol with a date?  Maybe.  Dress more conservatively?  Sure.  Stop hanging out with male friends alone?  Perhaps.  Am I too polite?  Certainly.  And my fight or flight response is actually to freeze.  So often when I'm scared, I get a deer-in-headlights approach to the situation. 

The fact of the matter is, telling the person I'm spending time with (whether on a date or just as friends because it's happened regardless) that I don't want to engage in sexual activity, for whatever reason, should hold merit.  I should not have to justify myself.  I do not believe that I need to continue to hold onto my convictions throughout the night.  It should not be a challenge to get me to let go of whatever reasoning I have.

I should not be nervous to spend time with my male friends and worry about my ability to maintain these relationships, but I am.  There's a broken sense of trust when you don't feel heard.  There's an imbalance of power that makes it hard to accept that I'm an person with an equal voice. 

This has been the most challenging blog I've ever written because I both want to be personal about my experiences and yet not out my aggressors.  Partly because the relationships are complicated, partly because I don't want the backlash of blame. Maybe it wasn't how I recall it?  Maybe it's not as big of a deal as I'm making it out to be?

But the biggest take away from this, is that it is more common than one might think.  I'm constantly dealing with unwanted attention in what should be professional settings.  There have been moments that I'm taken less seriously because of my gender.  And most importantly and even recently, I've been exposed to unwanted sexual advances that have left me uncertain of my own mental state and feeling less than dignified.  And it's occurred multiple times.  That's enough to make me concerned it is more me than them.  And that's terrifying.

Today's subject line quote is from DaShanne Stokes.

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Courage is knowing what not to fear.

I watched the film Critters last night, for the first time in at least 20 years.  In retrospect, my childhood favorites were all somewhat inappropriate content for my age group.  But I LOVED scary movies as a small child.  When I was four, my favorite movie was Poltergeist.  And to prove how weird I am to a whole 'nother level, I'll admit that my favorite toy was to play with plastic Easter eggs as people.  Kind of like Weebles, but without faces.  I named all of the yellow ones "Carol Ann" because she was blonde. 

So basically, I've been desensitized to all horror, gore, and otherwise spooky happenings.  I do not flinch in movies, I do not jump at haunted houses, and I do not scare easily...ever.  I release spiders back into the wild, unless it's a widow and then I'm fashioning a blow torch out of hairspray and a lighter.  I've faced snakes armed with a plastic sack and a spatula, before.  I even jumped cones my first night on rollerskates.  You. Can't. Scare. Me. 

What're your scariest moments?  What made your heart race?  Movies, television, novels?  That one time you and your gay friends got chased through a cemetary by a bunch of homophobic rednecks?  Wait...that one hjappened to me.  If it's media related, I'll watch it and film my reaction.  I am up for a challenge!  Please scare me this Halloween.

If you can get me to react, I'll give you a prize.  A good one.  Like, I'll make you something one-of-a-kind! 

Today's subject line quote is Plato.

Monday, October 9, 2017

Money won't create success, the freedom to make it will.

Sorry if I've been vague-booking my mood on social media lately.  My confession?  I'm not good with math and my budget is shit.  Unless some financial miracle happens, school will be back to being a daydream.  I've applied for another type of student loan that might cover the rest of the cost of school, but it doesn't change the fact that I'll be taking a pay cut to work part time.  I've got a lot of little things that I could cut out to save some cash, but it's going to be difficult. 

I'm not a couponer.  I don't follow budgets well.  I don't track my spending hardly at all.  I'm basically a 33 year old teenager after getting her first job.  Look at all the monies I have!! I will spend it on Rockstar energy drinks and Amazon Prime!   But in all seriousness, my entire paycheck goes to childcare.  This whole school shindig is supposed to help me establish a real career where I could, potentially, afford to live without being completely dependent on support payments from my ex. 

But, I do live in Hoighty Toighty, CA USA.  Things are fucking expensive here and I'm a spoiled brat who is shitty with money.  I can do this.  Right?  I can totally reign in my inner Millennial and tighten up.  Though my essential bills like medications and electricity are pretty heavy.  I worry about those, too.

I also need to be patient with myself.  I'm working from the ground up and I've already upgraded my job once in the last year.  I was making minimum wage at a grocery store seven months ago and have already negotiated my wages up a dollar past starting pay for my current job.  I've been a stay-at-home mom my entire adult life outside of college until now.  I'm in the same category as a young adult who just moved out of her parent's basement.  I shouldn't expect my life to be together yet.  And sometimes life isn't put-togetherable.  Maybe a career with house and a car and a daily Starbuck's addiction isn't an attainable goal?  Time to shift some expectations and grow up.

Today's subject line quote is from Nelson Mandela. 

Sunday, October 8, 2017

I see you shiver with antici...........pation.

Last night was the final bout of the season for the Monterey Bay Derby Dames and it was a very bittersweet night for me.  The event was themed Rocky Horror Roller Derby, so there were maid costumes and booty shorts with corsets a plenty.  Yours truly rocked the latter with some thigh high boots and fishnets (that have seen better days since I last wore them for my Harley Quinn costume last Halloween). 

It was a great game.  I'm only hella jealous to not have been on the track with my teammates, blocking against Spacey Lords.  This was supposed to be my bout.  This was the one we were all convinced I'd have passed my 27 laps in 5 minutes and be out there, using my magnificently large ass to my advantage.  Despite attempting my time trial multiple times per week, attending back to back practices, and scrimmaging sometimes for a total of 10 hours of skating per week, I still didn't make it over that plateau.  And it looks like I'll have to wait another year or so to get back to it, since my school schedule won't allow me to practice with the Dames any longer. 

Going to cosmetology school is an exciting new endeavor and I'm thrilled to be taking this opportunity for myself.  But, taking it at the expense of derby is heartbreaking.  Derby empowered me.  I regained (if not gathered for the first time in my life) a sense of confidence and badassery.  When I got my peacock tattoo, I told myself "If you can do this, you can do anything."  And I was right.  Derby saved my soul in the sense that I had spirit again.  There was something just for me that sparked the passion deep down in my guts.  I'm terrified what my life will be like without it, but I'm hoping hair design will give me that buzz as well. Derby is beautiful.  Everyone on the track is a combination of both fierce and agile. It's like performing a brutal dance.  I hope to dance again in the future.

In the mean time, I'll be volunteering with the league as an NSO (Non-Skating Official) and doing all the social events I possibly can.  Like how I sacrificed sleeping in order to go to the midnight showing of Rocky Horror at Paper Wing Theater last night after the bout.  It was amazingly fun and so worth the bags under my eyes this morning at work.  The cast was spectacular!  But honestly?  The star of the evening was, no doubt, my chest.

It was overheard during the game that bets were being taken on whether or not I'd have a wardrobe malfunction.  I did not, so I made 1 out of 5 guys richer.  You're welcome!  All my friends wanted to poke them.  Dr. Frankenfurter wanted to kiss them.  Strangers either stared at them or made really intense eye contact.  My teammates just randomly shouted "Booooobs!" at me all night long.  It was fun to be a spectacle, even more fun to be something I'm not usually.  It's not like I'm letting the ladies hang out with me at work.  I don't go to parent meetings with a baby butt on full display, either.  So it was nice to get out there and be sexy for an evening. 

Overall, it was a good night.  Even if I had some major feels about not participating in the bout and my decision to pursue adulthood over derby, it was a fun night.

Today's subject line quote is (obviously) from Rocky Horror Picture Show.


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