Chupa Chups

jabs and stabs

When I am resentful I lash out. I lash out at you. I lash out at you for abandoning me. I feel as if it is abandonment when all of a sudden you disappear. You feel as if it is alright to pick up whenever you want. You go away for a while, come back, and expect me to just start back again. I can’t. I have real feelings. You abandoned me. You are not there any more. I’m still here. I’m waiting for your arrival or some sort of apology. Days go by and I get neither. Now we are into months, I still wait. I am still waiting. Months go by. I’m still waiting. Once I hit the year mark, I get the hint. You’ve gone. Well….look at that…its two years now. How are you? Um, I’m fine. You left. I was coming back though. Really? I hadn’t noticed. I waited two years with nothing. I’m not happy with this situation. Please don’t approach me or I’ll bite. I’ll take a bite out of you. Not a physical one but a metaphorical one. You abandoned me. I’m no happy or OK with that. Please explain yourself. Nope. It’s not good enough. I don’t trust you now. You leave. Things aren’t the same. I know it. Things won’t get back to the sameness. I’ve been abandoned. I feel abused. I feel left behind. You did this too many times. Why? Did I do something wrong? I don’t trust you. I won’t ever trust you. You left. You left me alone to die. Thank you for doing so. I woke up because of it. I’m not trying again. In fact, I’ll make sure to cut you before you cut me. I’ve got the sarcastic gene in me. My tongue will cause whiplashes. One after the other, the criticisms and small jabs will keep coming. Until I feel vindicated, this from the looks of it will take years to remedy.

void

Void. Empty. Hole. Where human emotions are inserted, my box has a huge gapping hole. It makes me feel empty inside because I don’t experience things in the same way. I have a void. I don’t know how to fill the hole up. I excommunicate myself from human society as best I can. It helps in the beginning but begins to sting in the next stage. I prevent negativity and let downs by staying far away; creating the ever elusive ten-foot pole. I can’t fill this void. I don’t know how to. I’ve attempted to assimilate but somehow I still feel like an outcast. I’ve gone through many of life’s stages feeling the exact same way. I can’t penetrate the inner core so I stay in the outskirts. Nothing fills it up. I’ve tried material things, education, travel, and even people. It doesn’t work. Why doesn’t it work? How can I grow out of this? Is it permanent? What exactly is this feeling? I take a deep breathe in and exhale. I take another. Another….. Soon, if I don’t pace myself and my thoughts, it becomes a panic attack. Count…one, two, three, four….breathe….five, six, seven, eight….breathe…nine……ten. Breathe. One breathe in, two out. I don’t know what to do. I have resources and use them but I can’t shake it off. I can’t shake it off. Help.

map of the us

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I’m a traveler. I love to travel. Traveling is fun. When I plan for trips, I get excited. I feel like all is right with the world. I not only travel in my home state but I travel the world. Sadly, I don’t know much about the United States of America; a country comprised of fifty lovely states and its territories. Whenever I travel abroad, I always tell myself that I want to see America; the real America, not just my own city—the sides of America. I want to see the oddities that people see alongside highways. I want to see a freeway. I want to see America. America the beautiful, she has beautiful territories/states from sea to shinning sea. I want to see the Pacific Ocean on the American coast. I travel abroad and they call me an American but I don’t know what America really is. I want to see states full of Republicans. I want to see trailer parks. I want to see Nashville, TN. To be quite honest, I’ve been dying to see Nashville. I love country music (which is something not appreciated in my state). SO seeing as I accomplish all (or most) the goals I set forth, I want to set this one and achieve it with flying stars- fifty to be exact. My goal: In 2010, I want to see ALL fifty states of the United States of America. I want to start from scratch. I’ve seen about eleven states already but I’m going to start new, with a fresh clean slate map. I’m going to be posting about the states I’ve visited and post pictures. Internet world out there, please comment on what I should see in your state. I’m going to need tons of help. I don’t have my driver’s license so it’s going to be tough. Ha. It’s a challenge I accept though. Here’s to my journey. I want a life worth living. I want adventures through and through. My life thus far has been composed of many anxious moments and I want to stop that. I want to enjoy every moment and stop thinking about the world and my future. Ultimately, I’m only here for a few moments, I might as well enjoy the ride. Join me in my journey.

as we howl

I’m letting it out once and for all. I’m not going to cry about any more. I’m tired but not so tired. I need to move on and not focus on you and what you are doing and not doing. Our time has passed and therefore I should move on. It’s harder said than done but I need to force myself to do so. I’m stuck. I’m stuck in limbo waiting for a return to what I thought was safe and secure. You’ve moved on. You’re looking fine. It seems you’re living your life as best as you can. You certainly aren’t skipping a beat. You’re dancing and laughing. You’re showing the world who you are and what you have. I need to do the same for myself. Let’s face it. I live in my own worst nightmare, a nightmare of my own creation. I sit and cry and stare. I stare at the fun things you’re are doing and imagine myself beside you. I weep for loss time. I weep for our past. You’ve moved on. I have not. I don’t know what’s wrong with me but for some reason I can’t. It’s the masochism in me. Why can’t I just be macho and move on? I need it. You’ve obviously done it without as much as a wink. Guess you weren’t that into me after all. I weep. I weep. I weep for once was. I weep for what could’ve been. I continue on my life journey looking back at you. Waiting to reopen that door, a door you shut on my face. Thanks for that. Thanks for not giving us a shot. I look at the skies and imagine my life up there. Unfortunately, I’ve always felt that my life was to be a solitary confinement. I was to be confined by lots of riches but no one to share it with. It’s my destiny. A destiny I’ve chosen for myself. A destiny to protect me from the hurt and sorrow I’ve felt. Reliving the past is not fun at all. Looking at your Facebook pictures just rips me up inside… just a little. A little rip each day is what I give myself from looking at those pictures. As I mentioned before, I’m a little masochistic over you. The great Britney Spears said it best “I’m a slave for you.” I wish I was no longer enslaved with you. I want to be happy and free. Is that so darn hard? Thanks. You’re probably not reading this but I write anyway. I write to let it out. I’ve always had trouble identifying my feelings…emotions…whatever you call them. I’ve never been privy to what they are and what they try to tell me. I lie. I’ve always ignored them. I stuff them in a box deep down inside. I don’t want to see or feel them. They disgust me for being so weak, emotional, and human. I’ve always been disgusted by human emotions and pain. The fortified brick wall that surrounds me is cool. I like sitting up against it. In the summer time it keeps me cool. The sun doesn’t penetrate me. In the winter time, it keeps the frigid air and snow out. Did I mention that I like the winter? It’s one of my best seasons because it is darker for a long time. The light bothers me. It blinds me. You liked the summer time. I like the winter time. I get to play in the winter. I get to walk the streets while everyone is scared and in a hole at home. They hibernate and party. I let out a huge howl. I rejoice.

a wagging tail

I narrowly escaped the volcanic eruption over Iceland. I’m very thankful that my flight was two days before the volcano erupted. Unfortunately, not many people can say the same. As thousands continue to be stranded, the world is more or less at a stand still with Mother Nature. Although my flight across the Atlantic was successful, a flight for the Polish president (Mr Lech Kaczynski), the first lady (Mrs Maria Kaczynska), and others didn’t have such a happy ending. As Poland mourns for its leader, many around the world continue to live their lives undisturbed. I’m not saying that we should stop living our lives for someone’s death but a little more respect should definitely be given. What I find most surreal about this unfortunate situation is that I haven’t heard much about it. When Michael Jackson, a mere pop icon, passed away, the world stood still. Isn’t that sad? I think it is. The world stops for a singer but not for country’s leader. I can’t comment on the President’s leadership but regardless the world should show more respect. Or so I think.

My stress levels keep rising. I’m anxious and stressed. I’m stressed over my unsuccessful dog adoption procedure. I never thought it would take this long to adopt a dog or find the right one. Being the dog lover that I am I would take any dog but the behaviorists don’t agree. They want to find a good match for the dog, which I am very grateful for. These people take the time to get it right. Unfortunately, their match finding criteria mean I have to keep searching and searching. I cried last night. I took a trip to the humane society and the ASPCA and saw two possible dogs. When I asked to meet with them, they behaviorist said they weren’t good matches for me. One didn’t belong in the city and the other one howled too much for apartment living. I submitted applications for fostering and I have three dogs to check out before I stop being so active in the search. This dog search is draining. If I were to be on the Suze Orman show she would tell me I can’t even afford a dog so why am I even looking. I know I can’t afford things with credit card debt but if I wait for the credit card debt to be zero I’ll have lived a very boring life. I understand the need to fix finances but at what cost? My sanity? My life? I can honestly tell you that I’d be too stressed worried about getting the right numbers. I was stressed about getting the right numbers. I stopped living to make it right. I STOPPED LIVING TO MAKE THE NUMBERS RIGHT. Is that what it’s all about? Cutting back so much that I end up becoming a shut in with the lights off and the TV off all in efforts to save money and get on the black of things? I’m sorry. I’ve been doing that and it only depresses me more. I’d rather live my life than try every second to be in black. Clearly I’m angry today. I’m disappointed today. I’m feeling lost. I’m feeling beaten. BUT good news, I have defense mechanisms that always make me “fix myself”. I always end up looking at what I can “fix” in myself so that I won’t feel so bad. It’s both a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing because it technically is a good avenue- better than sinking to drugs and alcohol; but it’s a curse because I don’t deal with things properly. Oh well.

yes i'm insulted

So it’s all or nothing, huh? I can’t have an in between; some intermediate speed? Why? Why does it have to be super speed? Why can’t I just take my time?

SO the week started out hectic. I was trying to save a life. I did my best. I went to the shelter twice this week. I met the dog. The dog was exactly what the description said plus a few extras, i.e., severe food aggression, a cold, and an ear infection. I came to the shelter with an open mind. I went to assess the situation. Weighing the pros and cons, as well as my own novice experience, I decided to forego it. It was in the dog’s best interest to have a pack leader that knew what it was doing and I wasn’t it. I could deal with “regular” dogs but not aggressive dogs. It was a dominant breed and because it had severe fear issues I felt I could rehabilitate it. Unfortunately, I was mistaken. The dog showed signs of improving but it was hard for me to find it a home. SO I told the rescue group I couldn’t proceed. It hurt to make this decision but from the talk I had with the person whose dealt most with the dog, it seems the dog has been taken of the euthanasia list more than once. It was mostly based on that decision. People were interested or else the dog would’ve been dead. I felt like a Peta protestor for a few days. I decided to keep the focus on myself (not to be selfish but to be realistic). I’m going on vacation. Personally, I think it’s wrong to make a commitment and bail at the first chance you get. I felt badly “saving” the dog only to dump it off on my friends while I was away. Well, apparently looking at the situation realistically wasn’t that nice. I haven’t heard from the rescue group. Clearly, they were only looking to save a life, not to see if it was a good fit. They kept pushing this dog on me even knowing that I’ve never truly had a dog for more than a week. The pulled out all the stops and I saw several red flags that at first I ignored. Why can’t I tell the shelter the rescue group is covering the costs? Why did you choose to ignore the fact that the dog has “severe food aggression”? When we first spoke you informed me that the dog was not a fearful biter. You lied. The shelter said it did. You tell me the shelter is exaggerating. I’m stuck in the middle. I choose to do what was best for me and what I thought was best for the dog. The shelter is one opposite and you are the other. I tried. I must inform you that I felt insulted that you didn’t even acknowledge my email. I was giving it a good go and by not responding with at least an “OK” it makes it seem a bit as an insult. I made a decision that you didn’t like and you quickly turned on me. It’s like when customers go into a store and as soon as the sales associate knows you are not interested they become a Jekyll/Hyde person. No need to be rude. What would Emily Post say to your lack of manners? In any case, I write to let out the insult I am feeling.

hamilton's rule in application

I’m caught in a whirlwind, tornado, and tsunami. I’m trying to be a decent human being. I’m trying to save the world. Meanwhile, I’m losing control. I have taken the focus off myself to my own detriment. It’s led to a detrimental state of mind and spirit. In efforts to help another being, I’m lessening my own chances of a healthy state of mind. Providing support to another does require that less be provided for you but this seems like an extreme case. Helping you shouldn’t be a dangerous thing to me. If the costs outweigh the benefits, it’s detrimental and should be avoided. The altruistic behavior shouldn’t cost more than the benefit. Is this Hamilton’s rule in action? Perhaps. I don’t know anymore. I’m trying to regain footing. It’s hard. Its gut wrenching and making me feel guilty. You need a calm and assertive individual to help you out. Two nails can’t help each other. One anxiety prone individual isn’t much help to another anxiety prone individual. What can I do? I don’t know what to do? I’m being torn from limb-to-limb. Some say you may tear me limb-to-limb. I have to look out for my own health. I’m trying to save your health but then who’s looking out for mine. You have people looking out for you. I have me. If I don’t help me, I’m stuck. You have your cute puppy dog eyes. I have just me. I’m sorry. I have just me. I’m trying to look out for you as well. I took the extreme opinions out of the equation. I focused on what I can provide for you. I’m inexperienced. Yes, experience comes with delving into things but I’m still inexperienced. You need help; experienced help. I wish I could help but I can’t. I have a life. This is tough. I have to move forward. I have this little girl inside of me to look after. She has plans. She only has me to take care of her. It’s me and my inner me. You have you and other people. I’m sorry.

not so saintly after all

Please allow me to inform you that I am not Mother Theresa. I’m sure she was a nice lady but sadly I am not her. I do my part, e.g., recycling, volunteering, etc. However, I can’t commit to fully saving the world. It would be a major drain. I’m only but one person and I know I can’t do it all by myself or afford it. Ghandhi and Dr. King were troopers. I can’t begin to fill their shoes. I want to save one and I want to save all, but I have to be realistic and know that I can’t save them all. One lives today but ten die tomorrow. I don’t want the weight of those ten on my shoulders. I can do my part as best as I can. I can’t promise you anything and I most certainly can’t promise you perfection. I’m only one person. I, too, need help. Although I’m all for saving the environment and all its inhabitants, I simply can’t protect them all forever. Things have a natural course; I have a natural flow. Please accept my apologies. I am only able to do so much. I’m not Mother Theresa. I’m not Al Gore. I’m not Bill Gates. I may give to the homeless. I may volunteer at animal and human shelters. I may volunteer at the parks. However, I’m only me. I’m only one person. I feel guilty. I feel guilty for not being able to do more. I know my limitations. Sadly, I can’t save the world. One person is all it takes. One person saves and one person is saved. Allow me to give as best as I can, but please don’t push me to do more than I can. I appreciate your efforts, as I hope you’ll appreciate mine. Please don’t judge me, chastise me. I’ve done more than the average Jane. Please forgive me but Mother Theresa is dead and her shoes are something I don’t wish to fill.

sunny sunday

With fogged up eyes, I’m feeling sad, alone, and in pain. My eyes are foggy because I need to toss out these old contacts. I’m feeling sad because of financial issues. I’m feeling alone because I’m currently alone in my living room. Sad, alone, and in pain because I’m feeling overwhelmed in this living room; a room cluttered with tons of paper, bills, clean laundry, and just one hot mess. Although I tried taking care of myself this morning (because last night I had a Crumbs cupcake) by going for a long run, I’m now facing a piercing foot pain. I feel like bolting. Opening the door, boarding an airplane, and never really looking back because that’s how I decide to deal with things. It’s one of the only things that soothe me. All these ailments are curable, fixable. Step one: toss out those old and worn contacts. Step two: start picking up the mess that’s on the floor. Step three: fold the laundry and put it away. Please continue. Feeling sorry for myself doesn’t help. It only keeps me in this dark hole. There’s a light at the end of every tunnel and hole and I need to look for mine. As Ms. Suze Orman says, I need to face it to erase it. I need to get real with myself. If I keep living in denial, nothing will change. I need to face my reality and steer into the direction I’d like to move in. I need to move. Need to move as fast as I can. I’m not saying at super speed but at a more accelerated speed than I’m moving now, which is snail’s pace. It’s taken me weeks to mail out a form that took me two minutes to fill out. So I write. I write to clear my head. I write to figure and let things out. I need to exhale. I can’t continue to hold my toxic breathe and hope everything fixes itself. I need to breathe out. The toxins are killing my organs. I need my heart. I need my lungs. I need everything inside of me. All my organs have a function and by holding this toxicity, I’m only harming myself. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Now, exhale. Let it out. Let the pain out. Let the sadness out. Let the loneliness out. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Let the cool and calm air in. Let the warmth fill your hearth. Let the warmth fill your lungs. Let the warmth fill your stomach. Mmmm….it feels good. It feels good to breathe and exhale.

mousing around

Click…click….click….click..clickety-click, clickety-click, clickety, clickety-click….what’s this I see? It’s the green-eyed jealous cyber stalker monster that lives inside of me. I started off innocently by just glancing through the Facebook wall. Soon the Facebook wall turned into noticing who you befriended. Eventually I started looking through every photo you posted and inspected all of them. In the beginning you would check your Facebook on my computer and I would simply log you off. I didn’t want to know and I felt you deserved your privacy. To give it is to receive it, right? Eventually my brown eyes started changing color. First they became hazel and eventually aquamarine green. I fear they will turn toxic chemical green soon. I can’t help it but I can. Cyber stalking is just so simple and anonymous. Oh why is the green-eyed monster in me awakened? I was a normal girl at age 17. At age 19, I was free as a bird. The boyfriend at that time had his issues and eventually his jealous issues became my issue. They slowly seeped into me. The age 20 boyfriend was an uphill battle. It was tough constantly coming up with defensive strategies. Age 21-26, was a string of unfortunate events. Those were unavailable and barely dateable. Did I mention those were also not completely yours? They were great multi-taskers that much I can give them. Now at 26 ½, I am the green-eyed monster. The age 17 carefree bird enthusiast became the 26 ½ who is sifting through phone messages, Facebook inboxs and walls. Shameful can’t begin to cover it. I’ve become the jaded lover. Ironically, this is one of the healthiest relationships I’ve been in and yet I’m the one looking for the metaphorical shoe. Clickety-click, clickety-click, clickety-clack…splat…splatter…splattering.

proclamation

Hear ye, hear ye! I doth proclaim myself a full-fledged (or as close as I can be) adult. I’ve schooled. I’ve worked. I’ve lived. I’ve toiled. I am a fully-fledged adult. I’ve taken on responsibility. I’ve buckled down when the times required me to. I’ve been the epitome of Emily Post’s great-great-grandchild. Yes, I am a full-fledged adult. I may now proceed onto bigger and better things. I am an adult who is comfortable in their own Chupa Chups skin. I’m as honest as can be. I feel really guilty lying to people, but I’m not one to shy away from a little white lie; you know, like the few times a homeless person comes up to you and asks you for change and you say you don’t have any. I mean don’t get me wrong. I give up my change if I have it. However, if I’m not in the best financial situations, I’m most certainly not going to give up my laundry money quarter to a stranger who’s probably making good on loose change. If I can’t afford to give coins, I do my best to offer whatever food I may have. (Haven’t you noticed that although they say they want something to eat, they’d rather get the cash instead?) So, yes, I am a fully-fledged adult. I practice good hygiene. In the winter, I shower, floss, brush, and rinse at least twice a day; morning and night. When summer time arrives, it’s at least three times. I commit to nourishing my body with healthy foods. I’ve just taught myself to eat celery. I’m not 100% there but I’m a good 40% there. I’ve taught myself to eat spinach, broccoli, bean curd, tofu, etc. Yes, I am a fully-fledged adult. Sadly, as this fully-fledged adult, my metabolism isn’t the best. It’s increasingly slowing down. It’s harder for me to manage my weight. Although I’ve not gained much weight, I’ve also not been able to lose any; mostly because I forget the most important part of the component of weight loss- actually get up off the couch. Sigh. SO to the world: I doth proclaim my adultness. I am one of you. I’ve joined your ranks. I’m a doer and not just a follower. World, that is all. Please continue with your day. Goodbye.

one, two, three, four...one two, three four

Did you know that my feelings are valid? Did you know that everyone’s feelings are valid? So, why do you call me a “drama queen” when I tell you I’m not feeling well? Do I do the same to you? No, absolutely not. I empathize. I try to make you feel better. I offer my services to you. I assure you that you can count on me for whatever you need in your time of need. SO, why do you criticize me for validating my own feelings? I’m tired of treating my feelings as second-class citizens in comparison to yours. My feelings are valid. They tell me what’s going on with me. I need to not focus on your ailments and focus on mine. I’m not criticizing you for voicing your feelings and ailments. In fact, I encourage you to speak your truth. Therefore, I request you treat my feelings and opinions with the same courtesy as I treat yours. I will no longer be passive. My feelings will no longer ride at the back of the bus so that yours can take up five seats up front. My feelings and I matter. They matter to me. If they don’t matter to you, I guess we have a problem. I guess you’re not the individual I thought you always were. I guess it’s about time I packed up and went about my way. My feelings are valid and will no longer look to you for validation. They are valid on their own. I will voice my feelings and opinions whenever I see fit. I will no longer take a backseat to you. Here me now. I am Rosa Parks and I will no longer ride at the back of the bus. My feelings and feet are as trampled as yours. However, I will not continue their demise to make room for yours to heal. My feelings need to heal as well. You may not like it but they’re real. They are real to me and they exist loud and proud!

coma character

Waaaaaaa Waaaaaa. I’m stuffed to the gills. I feel like a fisherman is going to stick his hook in my gut at any time. I’m stuffed. Stuffed to the gills. I had Italian for lunch. Penne vodka with fresh mozzarella. Simple. Clean. Yummy. Today it is extra heavy. I feel as if someone stuffed a water balloon down my throat. Honestly, I feel like those video game cartoon characters when they get killed off and just sit with birds and weird symbols above their heads. You know what I’m talking about. The characters that once they die their eyes become Xs and they sit on the floor twirling in circles. I feel like that cartoon character right now. Right now I’m stuffed to the gills. Ouch. Was that a fisherman sticking its hook in me?!

definitions

/ɪˈnɪʃiətɪv, ɪˈnɪʃə-/ Show Spelled[ih-nish-ee-uh-tiv, ih-nish-uh-] Show IPA

–noun
1.an introductory act or step; leading action: to take the initiative in making friends.
2.readiness and ability in initiating action; enterprise: to lack initiative.
3.one's personal, responsible decision: to act on one's own initiative.
4.Government.
a.a procedure by which a specified number of voters may propose a statute, constitutional amendment, or ordinance, and compel a popular vote on its adoption. Compare referendum (def. 1).
b.the general right or ability to present a new bill or measure, as in a legislature.

–adjective
5.of or pertaining to initiation; serving to initiate: Initi-ative steps were taken to stop manufacture of the drug.
Use initiative in a Sentence
See images of initiative
Search initiative on the Web

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Origin:
1785–95; initiate + -ive

—Related forms
in·i·ti·a·tive·ly, adverb
self-in·i·ti·a·tive, noun
su·per·in·i·ti·a·tive, noun
un·in·i·ti·a·tive, adjective

—Synonyms
2. leadership, forcefulness, dynamism.

in·i·tia·tive (ĭ-nĭsh'ə-tĭv)
n.
The power or ability to begin or to follow through energetically with a plan or task; enterprise and determination.

A beginning or introductory step; an opening move: took the initiative in trying to solve the problem.

The power or right to introduce a new legislative measure.

The right and procedure by which citizens can propose a law by petition and ensure its submission to the electorate.

adj.
Of or relating to initiation.

Used to initiate; initiatory.

in·i'tia·tive·ly adv.