Tuesday, June 30, 2009

I Hate That This Bugs Me

C has the babies for the next three weeks, and today on FB he posted pics from a festival he took them to this weekend, with his fiance, of course.

Well some trick-ass-bitch saw a pic of the four of them together and was all like "Your family is so beautiful" and honestly it took all I had NOT to come back with "BITCH- THOSE ARE MY FUCKING KIDS!!!"

I need to work that out.

I mean, I let her come to N's birthday party last year and I let her come to K's graduation a few weeks ago, but I hope this bitch is not putting on airs and claiming MY FAMILY as hers.

And yes, I know she can't help what somebody else commented but FUCK THAT! I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE PLAYING WITH MY KIDS!

*smooches...wondering how many hours of therapy it will take to cure me*
'cause this kind of crazy I have, man, I doubt it's in the textbooks...

and PS- can we please talk about how, YET AGAIN, N is posing like she was raised in the Stuy circa 1983?

Monday, June 29, 2009

Am I Ready For What's Next? Random Monday Thoughts...

For being a freelancer w/no rainy day funds?

For hustling full time to try and get a new gig?

For this hot ass summer in BK, again?

For the life of the mother of a real teenager?

For a complete REDO of my lifestyle choices?

For failure? Success? Happiness? Tragedy?

For a real heart-to-heart w/Grandma? With myself?

For him?

I'm trying to not fall apart, go with the flow, "let go and let 'god'" but SHIT I hate being in limbo without a plan of action and definite, guaranteed results. Total result of the whole right/left brain fighting for supreme dominance: my logic/reasoning just declared war on the bohemian artist in me and I was the last to know. Both sides have amassed so much ammunition against the other and I know it's about to get so freakin bloody. Like Civil War bloody. Like Euro-trash killing off indigenous tribes in 'America' bloody. Like North Korea threatening to level us with one death blow bloody. Like talking bad about Michael Jackson on a bus in Florida bloody.

Or maybe I'm just making it that huge because I'm on crack.

*smooches...too confused to produce a coherent post*
ps- it's hot as all hell today... never thought I'd say this shit but, um, I guess the rain wasn't ALL bad! lol

Friday, June 26, 2009

The Unattainable Cure

(The 5th and final installation in the Jaded Depression series. Hope I gave you enough information for the final. Bring a #2 pencil...)

"You don't know what you got 'til it's gone."

Ain't that the damn truth?

You know what I used to have that helped keep my depression to a minimum, made things better, provided comfort so that I can have the peace of mind to fix shit?


And I didn't realize it until she was gone.

With her I had a place to rest my head and cry when I needed it. A place to hide from the world uninterrupted for as long as I needed in order to regroup. She left me alone but not really, because I knew at any moment I could just go up to her and get a hug- no questions asked- and she'd smell like agua florida and it was all I needed sometimes.

I don't have any semblance of that these days because she's gone, Mami is not that kind of mom and Papi is all the way in Santo Domingo and the last thing I want to do is worry him by saying "no" when he asks me if I'm OK.

Did I decide this is what I needed in order to feel better only because I cannot have it? That is a possibility. But I can honestly pinpoint the demise of my psyche to the very month she got on that plane to move back to the Dominican Republic. As if I knew it was the last time I would see her alive.

And that my life as I knew it was over.

I don't know how to fix that, or if it's even fixable.

*smooches...unsure of where to go from here*
except to immerse myself in more words... offline.

(and PS- it really doesn't help that as I was writing this, Pandora decided to play The Beatles' Yesterday, Kool & the Gang's Cherish, No Doubts' Running and Hector Lavoe's Todo Tiene Su Final back to back. Knife... heart... deep...)

Thursday, June 25, 2009

This Body... This Wallet...

(Part 4 of 5 in the Jaded Depression series... almost done, which is NOT to be confused with almost better. Read on...)

Whenever I get these BLUES, which has been occurring more often than not these days, I refer to it as a downward spiral. I call it that because it will start out as a simple thing that made me sad and then keep going until I'm overcome with everything in the world that makes me sad.

Somewhere along the way I inevitably stand before the mirror and LOATHE what I see in my reflection: the extra weight, flab, stretchmarks (and NO Mr. Barbrucz, stretchmarks are NOT the badge of a true woman, dick-face!) and imperfections. Things I wish I were motivated to make better. Things I wish were better from birth. Things that I have zero control over that I want control over that I can't have control over.

Did you follow all that? No? Well, too bad. You're sitting in on the gifted classroom. Try and keep up.

I don't like my body. Even when I was a thin-beyond-belief teenager I didn't like my body. And this isn't a cry for compliments- I don't want to see that shit in the comments so DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT- this is the god's honest truth. I took great pains to cover myself up at all times and to a certain extent I still do, all in the name of not being noticed because if I'm noticed then GAH, OH MY GOD, I might have to say something and interact with you and UGH I'm soooo not interesting or worth talking to... just go over there and talk with the loud chick in the fuchsia dress. She has a lot to say.

And I am sorta maybe kinda half-assing it towards a more healthy and fit lifestyle, but even if I found myself completing a triathlon w/zero percent body fat I would not like what looks back at me in that fakakta mirror because it's not about my size... I've BEEN every size (seriously! I've been an 8 and I've been an 18; I know what I'm talking about) and at every one I was miserable!

Most days I can keep it at bay and say to myself, "You look nice today. Go out and have fun." But if I'm in the middle of the spiral NOTHING can make me believe I'm anything less than the most hideous creature to ever walk the earth. Nothing.

It's always a battle back to sunny days when that damn mirror never changes.

THEN, as if body-image issues aren't enough to make me want to take up Howard Hughes tendencies and remain in my apartment until the end of days, my downward spiral decides to attack the atrocious state of my financial affairs. And I won't go into details because really- I have to draw the line with what I share somewhere (but mostly because I'm ashamed of how bad it is)- but trust me when I say it's BAD.

And not bad because I'm already in a mood and everything is magnified by ten bad, but bad as in, well, lets just say I'm holding steady at DEFCON 2. So really, really, really bad. Not homeless & destitute bad but damn near close.

The icing on this soul-draining cake? My boss recently informed me that the company is not bringing in money and he needs to cut my hours by half. Which means my money is cut by nearly half, too. So half of $2.50... you do the math... I also lose my benefits, which I never really cared about until I realized I wouldn't have them.

These things, they exasperate my depression. They make it harder for me to see the light. Besides, in this economy a toll has been added to even reach the gateway towards the light and I ain't got it and can't put anything on it.

*smooches...trying to keep my head above water, thankful that I know how to swim*
I knew eventually this economic downturn would slap me in the face but I wasn't ready... I didn't have time to brace myself for this death blow...

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Fear Factor

(Part 3 of 5 in the Jaded Depression series)

So yeah, I met someone...whatever. Don't make a big deal about it. I'm looking at you, Blogging Ladies of NYC- you know who you are!

And, well, like the title implies I'm afraid of the fact that I like him. Y'all know I have commitment, trust and minor daddy issues, so being with someone is rather difficult for me. I know I'm not the only one. Hell, he could have a secret blog where he's writing the same shit about me for all I know.

But this is MY blog so we'll deal with MY problem right now, OK? Thanks.

So anyway, I met this guy and I like him and it scares me.

We have a good time together- alone or hanging with a posse of our mutual friends. I enjoy speaking with him on the phone. Remember the telephone? That thing you hold up to your ear that connects you with another human being who's not able to be with you physically at the moment? Yeah, that thing. We use it to communicate. It's nice. And that scares me.

He's funny. He's a grown up. He's good-looking, easy-going, fun to be around, and emits this sexiness vibe that piques my interest. And that scares me.

He lets me be me and still checks me from time to time when I start wildin out, 'cause let's face it- I need to be checked. A lot. And if it didn't set feminism back like 50 years, I dare say once in a blue moon it wouldn't kill me to get popped in the mouth. Sure, I'd get my family to beat the piss out of anyone who tried it but still... a good mouth-popping might be in order with me.

[insert Celie telling Harpo to beat Sofia]

He's a "man's man" in the good sense and that shit is sexy. I cannot deny that that is the main attraction (besides the sense of humor; that attracted me first). I don't get the impression that I will ever break his will and THAT shit is sexy as hell. He even told me once on the phone, "everyone meets their match eventually," and I swear I think my girly parts woke up, rubbed the sleep out their eyes and were like, "You rang?" And that scares me.

I've already tried talking myself out of liking him; wrote to him less, called him less, cut our talks down claiming to be tired. Invented problems and conflicts, even claimed it was over when it really wasn't. Typical Raquel moves. Always trying to run away from real shit.

But I kinda think it was too late for my sabotage-tastic moves- I already liked him. Not like, "Oh marry me and let me carry your babies" like him, but more of a "Yes, let's spend some more time together, get to know each other more than on a superficial level and perhaps even break my vow of celibacy all over my bedroom, living room, kitchen, bathroom, roof..." Like that.

And this is my worst nightmare, because that's when The Voices get involved and they start second-guessing everything and feeding me doubt sandwiches that I eat and eat and eat until I'm bursting at the seams with uncertainty.

"Did he just look at that girl?"
"Why haven't you heard from him?"
"He's only after one thing!"
"You are so wrong for him."
"It will never last; cut your losses now."
"You're better off alone... he's just gonna end up breaking your heart."

Scare-tactics: it's what's for dinner.

*smooches...looking for a new diet, high in self esteem*
it's so hard to manage depression AND be out on a date. Lord Jesus! I should be up for an Oscar with all this acting I've had to do...

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

"When You're A Girl, Everything Hurts"

(Part 2 of 5 in the Jaded Depression series...)

I'd like to think I'm pretty tough, with thick skin to protect me from any attacks coming my way. That's what I'd LIKE to think. That's what I tell myself and anyone who'll listen.

The fact is, I'm just a girl. I small, scared, insecure, lonely sad little girl, and a lot of things hurt me; wound me deeply.

Of course, I use my pride as a shield, full body armor, and no one knows how much I cry because of these wounds. I take up after my Mami that way- I'll shrug it off, flick my hand at it all and say, "whatever."

But what I'm really saying is "I've been hit, man down, call 911."

I won't complain, though, and I won't bring it up. I'll play the martyr (and the victim... Maybe I suffer from Munchausen by Proxy?) and chalk it up to life experience, live and learn and all that good shit. And just drown myself in the one thing that will never let me down.


Which is the only way that you are now able to know that I am a small, scared, insecure, lonely sad little girl. Because I used my words to tell you so.

But I don't just surround myself with my own words; many times, in fact, 85% of the time, I'll immerse myself in Ani DiFranco's words. Or Stephen King's words. Or Pablo Neruda's words. Or, as you read yesterday, John Cusack's words.

I don't care to speak these words out loud. Rarely if ever will you hear from my lips: I need help, I don't know what to do. Because saying them makes them too real. Oh, but writing them or reading them, well, that's just therapy. That's just art- subjective by definition, and therefore not real.

So for today I will use my words to say this...

I'm hurting. It HURTS to be me most days. It hurts to smile pretty for the camera and it hurts to laugh and breathe and be.

Now, if you'll please excuse me, I have some words waiting for me somewhere else.

*smooches...filling my void with GNR words tonight*
Axl's voice and Slash's guitar riffs will get me through...

Monday, June 22, 2009

John Cusack Films Are Not Just For Swooning...

(This is Part 1 of this weeks 5-part post on the ins & outs of Jaded Depression. I've decided to give you an inside peek at how I deal with, live through and temporarily fix my mental ailments.)

I know what you all think: I only watch JC's flicks because I'm hopelessly devoted to him. But the truth is I use his well-written/directed/acted films as therapy to help recover from my self-diagnosed mental illness issues.

Case in point: I watched Say Anything recently when my descent into complete darkness seemed inevitable. And it helped me more than Johnny could ever know.

And yes the entire film is funny, poignant, heart-wrenching and thought-provoking, but it was one scene in particular that slapped me awake.

Lloyd is in the apartment rough-housing with his nephew when his sister comes in to scold them both. Then Lloyd says to her (and me):

"Why can't you be in a good mood? How hard is it to decide to be in a good mood and be in a good mood once in a while?"

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? That line was totally written for me like for real. I heard that piece of dialogue and really felt like JC was speaking to me specifically.

How hard is it to decide to be in a good mood and be in a good mood once in a while?

It actually isn't as hard as I make it out to be. I just have to choose it. Keep myself too busy to host pity parties. Not allow for idle hands to get me into trouble. Work towards making my situation better and not worse. All I have to do is stop being a scaredy-cat and CHOOSE it.

And I want to, so badly; I want to check the little box every morning that reads GOOD MOOD, but how do I explain that to my brain?

I had a heart-to-heart with The Voices after the movie went off and told them, point blank:

I need your help, ladies! You HAVE to help me make better choices. Not by chastising or sabotaging, but by encouraging and loving. Especially loving.

Enough with telling me everything I'm doing wrong and how I'm not good enough. I need you to just this once hold me real tight in your arms and be NICE to me. I know you have a strict policy on coddling but PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE... just this once greet me with open arms, no questions asked, and help me choose better days.

I've yet to hear back from those bitches...

*smooches...wondering what JC movie I should watch next*
maybe something crazy like Better Off Dead or Hot Pursuit; those are always good for a few laughs

Friday, June 19, 2009

Who Told Her She Could Grow Up?

How time flies.

K graduates from 8th grade today and I can't even believe it's been nearly 14 years since I had her. WOW. It really just flew by.

I hope and pray that in four years I'll be saying the same thing about her HS graduation... NO DROPOUTS ALLOWED in this damn family!!

Beautiful readers, I hardly ever ask anything of you, but I'm sure K would love to get your well wishes on this most awesome day in her life. Remember, it takes a village... show my baby that he she has TONS of people in her corner, rooting for her to achieve her dreams.

*smooches...wearing a dress for a good cause*
and yes, of course, I will post pics of how cute we look next week :P

Thursday, June 18, 2009

It All Boils Down To Intent

Back when I was married, right before we left the Bronx for the so-called greener pastures of Pottersville, NJ, I pulled a knife on my then husband, C.

Wait, let me correct that- I went at him with a knife.

This knife:

Prior to that incident we were on the verge of breaking up because of his tendencies to seek sexual enjoyment outside of our marriage. We spent a year in therapy supposedly learning to communicate better with one another so that we could save our marriage and our family. He swore he was making a real effort and was committed to our relationship and I believed him and agreed to do the same.

One day, something drove me to do some internet detective work and VOILA! I found more evidence that he was STILL up to no good behind my back. It was the proverbial last straw. I ran to the kitchen to get THAT knife and in rage that was fueled by this strange fire in my gut I stabbed at all of his clothes which were minding their own business in a laundry bag on the floor.

Then he came home.

I was sitting there on the floor, knife in hand, liquor in my system (oh you better believe I downed a few drinks!) and fire still in my belly. He rushed the babies off to their room and then came back.

"What's the matter?"

Just the sound of his stupid voice made me so angry, so unbelievably feral, that in one swift motion I got up off the floor and, knife in hand, lunged right for his throat. Not his face, not his chest not his dick (as some women are wont to do). Nope. I wanted the jugular. I wanted to hear him gurgling blood with fear in his eyes so that I could stand over him and say, "I told you not to fuck around on me again." That was my intention. As scary as it is to admit that right now for all the world my 22 readers to see, that is what I wanted at that point in time.

Had I succeeded I could have easily gotten murder one. Why? Well, I just learned why from being on a jury for two weeks: intent.

And this is why I preface my story about jury duty with a story about how I almost killed the father of my children, because I need you to understand how intent has kept me up at night for the past two weeks, restless, depressed, overwhelmed, troubled and traumatized.

The murder case to which I was assigned involved a young Latino, Fernando "Macho" Claudio who fatally stabbed a young Black male, Hewitt "Gus" Hester, at a party in 2007. Charges against him also included assault on three other individuals: Ramon & Eddie Santiago and Michael Smalls.

From the evidence and testimony we, the jury, heard, the sequence of events was something like: Macho & Gus had an argument in the hallway outside of Ramon's apartment at around 5AM after a party was winding down. Witnesses say they don't know what started the argument, Macho says Gus did.

At some point after this argument takes place, where, mind you, a punch or two is thrown, the melee is thrust back into the apartment. Once inside, Macho retreats to the farthest corner of the apartment where the others follow and the fracas continues. Witnesses say they see Macho punch Gus in the chest; they also say Gus turns to them and says, "I'm hit. He stabbed me" or something to that effect. More punches are thrown, someone hits Macho with a beer bottle, he continues to stab and gets Gus again in the arm, Ramon in the left hand, Eddie in the right hand and Michael twice in the back of the head.

Now mind you, I'm oversimplifying because I'm not in the mood to make this a two-or-three parter. Please keep in mind that we were not able to determine who was stabbed first; this is just a broad picture of the case, so pay attention.

Macho eventually runs out of the apartment and even though he is chased by the Santiago brothers is able to get away, while Gus bleeds to death in his nephew's arms.

What we as jurors had to decide was did the prosecution, ADA Chu, prove to us beyond a reasonable doubt that:

1- Macho is guilty of 2nd degree murder, meaning he stabbed Gus with the INTENTION of killing him. Or

2- Macho is guilty of 1st degree manslaughter, meaning he stabbed Gus with the INTENTION of causing him grievous bodily harm which could naturally, probably lead to death. And

3- Macho is guilty of 2nd degree assault on Ramon, Eddie and Michael. Those were three separate counts.

Deciding the murder/manslaughter charge was not difficult. Although it pained me to send such a young man- 23yrs young- to prison, he sealed his fate when he pulled out a weapon in the middle of a fistfight. The defense argued that the others were ganging up on him and he felt threatened. While that may be the case, we'll never know, Macho escalated the situation by no longer depending on his fists and choosing a sharp object instead.

We found him guilty of 1st degree manslaughter.

Why not murder? Because the ADA didn't prove her case, simple as that. It could very well be possible that Macho brought that knife with him and was gunning for Gus because they had beef just prior to the stabbing. But she didn't prove it. In good conscious I could not convict him of murder without that proof.

But, because Macho himself took the stand and gave me one crucial piece of information I was able to wholeheartedly cast my vote for guilty of 1st degree manslaughter. He told us that after he was pushed back into the apartment following the hallway argument, he took off his glasses and walked all the way into the corner of the living room- the farthest location from the front door. That tells me Macho was ready to fight.

Whether or not he had the knife in his pocket as the witnesses claim, or he found a sharp object on the windowsill in a moment of desperation as Macho claims, the fact remains that he went back into that apartment ready to throw down and settle whatever score he felt the need to settle. Because he took of his glasses, much like a female would take off her earrings before fucking a bitch up. He took off his glasses to prepare for the fight.

And the idiot sealed his own fate when he said that on the stand.

Now what has kept me up at night is that word INTENT. Because I knew first hand what it felt like to really want someone dead. And thanks to this case, now I really know what a dead body looks like, laying in a pool of its own blood.

And every night I was tormented by the thought of, THAT COULD HAVE BEEN C IN THAT POOL OF BLOOD. And I tried to feel some sort of kindred-ness with Macho but I couldn't. And that made me angry and sad, as if my empathy and humanity were slipping away. Because this young man took the life of another young man and now it was my job to take HIS life away and send him to prison. Although of course one could argue that he sent himself to prison by using that knife, still, it was we, the jury, who gave the go-ahead.

It pains me to know people are really like this. I mean you read about it, see it in movies, hear about it in the news, but this was so real that it truly hurt me deep. This violence, the aggression towards our fellow man, this disregard for life. This is the world I'm raising two daughters in? This is it? Really?

I cried almost every night I was on jury duty and I'm still all teary as I write this. Because frankly it just hit me: this is the world I live in.

If I wasn't truly Jaded before, please trust that this murder case has sealed the fucking deal.

*smooches...so glad I won't be called again for another eight years*
it will probably take me that long to get over THIS one!

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Creature Of Habit

Every morning I wake up with an agenda. A sort of direction I want to take during the day and with my life in general. 9/10 times I fail.

I'll say to myself, "Today you're going to do X,Y,Z and steer clear of A&B because you know it's not good for you." One guess as to how the day ends... YUP, with me doing A&B.

And the best part is I then have the AUDACITY to be upset about it. That's when The Voices are like, "Bitch, what the fuck did you THINK was going to happen? We TOLD you to steer clear. We TOLD you to do X,Y,Z. But you did what you wanted to anyway, so fuck you and your hurt feelings and disastrous circumstances."

Still, I have that 1/10 under my belt. That's something. Right?

Well, at least according to Jewel it is, so kiss my ass if you disagree. I'm siding with her on this one.

*smooches...holding on to whatever I can grab*
and thank you to those closest to me who've extended a hand. I know you understand my reluctance to take it means I'm not at rock bottom. I'll be OK, and I love you for even offering.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

When The Spiral Takes Over

I've been skipping along the edge for months now.

Every now and again I look down to see how far I have to fall. I wonder if I'll make it, if someone will catch me in time or if the cold concrete will French kiss me to death.

But I never jump.

Something always pulls me back. Usually.

This time, I can't see that light. I'm faking the funk big time these days... tears of the clown indeed.

"I never really laugh when I laugh, but I always really cry when I cry."

*smooches...trying really hard to start fresh every day*
I just wish I could pinpoint the catalyst. I know I could lick this if I could just find the goddamn catalyst...

Monday, June 15, 2009

Three Lessons

I'm still stuck in this Jury Duty fiasco so my brain has not been operating properly. Seriously, folks, if I have to see that photo with the victim's body laying in a bloody pool one more time I'm going to pass out. I feel like the lawyers keep putting it up just to torment me. Fuckers.

So today I just want to leave you with some words of wisdom that I've been mulling around in my head this weekend. Just three random facts of life that I thought I'd share with you.

1- Not all Dominicans from NYC are ghetto. There are quite a few of us who work hard, go to school, take care of our family and stay on the good side of the law. AND some of us even use complete sentences when we speak and can appreciate other music besides bachata.

Sometimes I get so caught up in the stereotypes that plague my people that I forget- there's always an exception to the rule.

2- Everyone's job has a suck factor to it, whether it's your co-workers, hours, boss or the work itself. I can't imagine that designing mannequins and wig heads can be too exciting, but sometimes I come across one that lets me know: these people try and make their own fun and I can't even be mad at it.

This is such a case of making sweet ass lemonade out of life's lemons.

3- Never fall asleep at ShellyShell's house. Because she will place a condom in your hair and take your picture.

(That's it- no other words of wisdom for number 3... just DON'T, I repeat, DON'T fall asleep at her house. PERIOD.)

*smooches...trying to not let this murder case take over my soul*
I never thought jury duty would affect me this much, but alas, I suppose I do have a heart after all.

PS- Why yes, that is mi hermano from another madre, Brother Omi in the first picture. Watch out, people... the educated Dominicans are mobilizing...

Friday, June 12, 2009

Mari Speaks On...

...my in-depth explanation of my obsession with specific flavors of 7-11 Slurpees i.e. which ones are good are which ones are not and why:

"Well excuse me... I'm not a Slurpologist"

*smooches...remembering that I haven't had a Slurpee in a hot minute*
my local gas station, a 7-11 knock off place, is about to see me a lot, especially now that it's getting warmer. not that cold weather has ever stopped me from guzzling down some frozen, blue raspberry goodness...

Thursday, June 11, 2009

I Wonder If The Penzos Know How Much I Clown Them?

taken from a Twitter conversation that came about after I went off on a rant about K's school:

and1grad: @TheJadedNYer I would really like to see you get ethnic. Its always entertaining when spanish folk get angry.

TheJadedNYer: @and1grad CALLATE!!!!!!

and1grad: @TheJadedNYer No, usually yall rattle off a LOT of words VERY quickly. Its fun to watch!

TheJadedNYer: @and1grad I'm not sure, but I think you just called me Ricky Ricardo...

and1grad: @TheJadedNYer No I called @ReindadeNYC that once tho. Did you know she's Cuban?

TheJadedNYer: @and1grad You're gonna get it for that. I'm just gonna duck out of the way and watch... *gets popcorn*

and1grad: @TheJadedNYer She likes it when I call her Cuban...its like our role-play. LOL

TheJadedNYer: @and1grad OK, now I feel like I walked into a porn starring my cousins. *backs away slowly*

and1grad: @TheJadedNYer Your saying that has just made this whole day awkward. That might actually be the most jaded thing I've heard u say. lol

chicknamedvick: @and1grad @TheJadedNYer that specific porn ends with @ReinaNYC trying to cut him.

TheJadedNYer: @chicknamedvick Ahhh, so it's a SNUFF FILM starring my cousins. Makes more sense now. *runs away for dear life*

*smooches...knowing full well that one day they might read this*
you know, eventually, when they actually learn to read... hahahahahahaha

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

"It's Always Been A Matter Of Trust..."

"Some love is just a lie of the heart..."

At what point does one come to the conclusion that what they feel for their significant other is *actual* love and not just something one thinks should be love because, well, just because?

I know for a fact I let myself live that lie when I was married. After many fights where he threatened to leave or suggested divorce I, me THE JADED FREAKIN NYER would fall to a fit of tears and tell him that I loved him and we had to give the marriage a try.

"...I know you have doubts, But for God's sake don't shut me out..."

But looking back, hindsight being 20/20 and all, how could I have thought it was love when I didn't even care enough to find a solution to our problems, and would instead offer him cold shoulders and the silent treatment. I never said what I really wanted to say because I was afraid the lie would be revealed: I don't really love you; I'm just afraid of being alone.

"...Some love is just a lie of the mind..."

There were days I would convince myself that I was in the wrong 100%- I was being a total bitch to a man who, instead of leaving me high and dry when I found out I was pregnant, took care of me and the baby like he was supposed to. Put his plans on hold to do so. Was mopping floors of the very campus center where he used to hang with friends just to put food on our table. Had to swallow his pride so we could afford diapers.

"...I'm sure you're aware love, We've both had our share of believing too long, When the whole situation was wrong..."

With time to reflect on that whole debacle of a relationship and its effect on my subsequent relationships I realized that I put too much importance on what HE thought of me and what I thought of HIM and not what WE thought of OURSELVES. And when I think of the self-esteem issues we both brought to the table and took away with us when it was all over, I knew that it all boiled down to trust.

"...Some love is just a lie of the soul..."

I mean, isn't low self-esteem just not trusting in your god-given worth? Never trusting that you're good enough, pretty enough, thin enough, sexy enough, SMART enough, funny enough and just ENOUGH enough for the person you're with? Never trusting that you have the qualities to keep someone interested in you in the long run?

It has taken a bunch of years to be able to say this out loud, but when I say I have trust issues, it doesn't mean I don't trust in YOU. It means I don't trust in ME.

But I promise, I'm working on it...

*smooches...thanking Billy Joel for the strength to come clean*
the sad part is this extends into my professional life, too. why do you think my thesis remains unfinished? stories remain unsent?

but I'm working on that, too. Promise!

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

They Call Me Alternate Juror #1...

But wait- I have an announcement first:

If you write fiction or creative non-fiction, reside in or near the Park Slope area and are serious about your craft, please contact me at rpenzo@thejadednyer.net. I've co-founded a writing workshop with two very talented women and am looking for 1-2 more people to join us every other Monday night for constructive criticism and feedback on submitted manuscripts. That is all.

And now the post...

As if I don't already have enough reasons for giving Obama the side eye (where my kids' reparations at, homie?), I can now add to my list of grievances:

Because I voted in the last presidential election the gu'ment found out where I was, served me with a jury summons and selected me for a criminal case.

YES. I am sitting on a criminal case... Could you just DIE?!?! They must not know 'bout me... and it's a murder case, too: JUICY! It's like a poorly-written, real life Law & Order and I can't wait until it's all over to tell you all their business.

As it stands, since I always try to stay on the "good" side of the law, I will only share with you what I can of this entire process: the jury selection.

First of all, I never realized how many ugly people reside in Kings county. Like for real, talk about the dregs of the dregs of society!

Second, NEVER go to jury duty without eating breakfast (like I did) because it can be damn near 3 o'clock before you get the chance to feed your belly (like I did). And passing out in court is NOT a good look.

Third, you know I love you a lot, right? So... I took notes (you can thank me in the comments) during the entire selection process before we got sent to the courtroom, and here are the highlights of my morning at 320 Jay Street:

1- Juror already kicked out/escorted out by cops for refusing to turn off iPod. We've only been here 20 minutes. LOVE IT! *shuts off iPod*

2- Why did ol' boy just show up hella late... in stunna shades? People- we gotta do better!

3- County Clerk had jokes: "If you no longer live in Brooklyn go see the clerk through the double doors. We're gonna make you write an essay about WHY you left Brooklyn!"

4- People are being excused for medical reasons? Does self-diagnosed manic depression count?

5- These people DO NOT have trouble understanding English... damn fakers!! How did they know to even get up just now when he asked the question?

6- Black Men: I'm gonna need for you to STOP wearing jeans with sparkly embellishments on the back pockets. That is all.

7- I'm writing a new script, "When Juries Attack." Tagline: What happens when the entire jury pool decides to take down the courts?

8- This Asian dude is named Peter Pan. Foreigners, PLEASE... research the culture before you choose your American name!

9- The judge looks and sounds like Jerry Springer. I have this urge to throw a chair and rush the stage screaming, "Keep your BLEEP BLEEP hands off my BLEEP BLEEP man, you BLEEP BLEEP!!!!!" Wait; the court officers have guns. Never mind.

10- 12PM and still no food in my belly. This bitch sitting next to me is about to lose her M&Ms. The hard way.

Now, before I went to jury duty, I got many tips on how to get myself dismissed and I was ready. But when I got there and Judge Jerry Springer spoke to us about duty and shit, and the inarticulate defense attorney said that the defendant's future was in our hands, I did feel a sense of responsibility. So instead of trying some shenanigans to get sent home, I answered truthfully from my heart.

Because when the day comes that I have to stab a fool in the jugular with a broken Stella Artois bottle, I would really like to think that the jury called to decide my case would do the same.

*smooches...actually feeling like part of the solution. for once.*
but seriously, I can't WAIT for it to be over... you know I'm bubbling over with gossip and details, right??? UGH!!! I want to tell you so much, but I won't. I'll be good.

Monday, June 08, 2009

Where I Failed As A Mother

Most of you already know K is on her way to one of the Specialized High Schools in New York City. She took the test, scored well and gained admission. It wasn't her first choice but she's happy with the outcome. She's not a conscientious student (she gets it from both me AND her dad) but she's very intelligent.

However, I hate to even think about where she'd be going to school next year if she weren't naturally smart. Not just because her study habits suck ass, but because I am convinced her junior high school did a piss-poor job of academically preparing her for what comes next.

Let me give you the backstory...

When I moved back to NYC in 2005, K started 5th grade at a school in Jamaica, Queens because I was still living with my mom at the time. In January of 2006 we moved into our own place in Brooklyn and she switched to the local school, the one that N attends now (which, by the way, I ADORE).

K's guidance counselor approached me in the spring about where we should send her for JHS, and mentioned this new charter school that he felt would be a good fit for her. We (me, my ex and Mari) went to an info session, K interviewed and was accepted. I was excited for her and thought we'd hit the jackpot.

Until she started going there.

My grievances with them are too many to itemize, but they range from sloppy administrative practices to downright wasting my kids time in the classroom. If you remember this post, I had to complain about their atrocious disciplinary methods and most recently, a bogus "class trip" had my panties in such a bunch that I had to write another "stern letter to corporate."

And while it is easy to sit here and tell you about how bad this school is and how I'll NEVER EVER send my kids to a new school ever again (sorry, but I'm going to need to see at least a decade of successful graduates before you get a hold of MY child!) I have to take ownership on my part in all this.

I never transferred her out.

I've loathed this school since K was in the 6th grade but didn't do anything except complain to my friends, family, blog readers and anyone else who would listen. And for that I'm a bad mommy.

Next year, K is in for an eye opener because the HS she's attending is no joke with the academics: it will challenge her until she curls up into a ball and cries herself to sleep. How do I know? Because it's my alma mater, and I experienced the same thing. My JHS, a parochial school that wasn't concerned with whether or not you could count as long as you loved Jesus, did not prepare me for the rigors of a specialized high school. I feel as though I did K a disservice by not pulling her out of her school in the 6th grade and transferring her elsewhere and now it's June.

All I can do now is hope for the best and stay on her ass about homework even more than I do now.

*smooches...wondering if this ruins my chances at mother of the year*
or- wait- I WAS in the running, right? RIGHT? Hello? Is this thing on???

Sunday, June 07, 2009

Jaded Photographs 2009: June Edition

"The Fall Of Man?"

*smooches...daring you...*
there's still a little witch in me, I'm sure...

Friday, June 05, 2009

I Was Told To Write A "Happy" Post

I've been having the shittiest of shitty weeks! I mean, so bad that I've cried, oh, no less than 6 times and as I write this it's not even Friday.

Smarty Jones suggested a write a happy post to make me feel better but you know what? I can't, because I'm right smack in the middle of this down cycle that sort of crept up on me when I wasn't looking.

Long story short- my thesis will take at least two weeks to a month to finish (I'm aiming for July 1st!) instead of being done by last Monday like I wanted, and it looks like I'll be out of a job by then, too.

>>>COINCIDENTALLY, if any of you know of a writing/editing/admin asst/McDonald's cashier positions available in NYC, I'd appreciate the head's up. I have 2.5 mouths to feed (I can always do without... you've seen my belly!) and a sizable monthly rent bill.<<<

Instead, I can tell you that while taking my evening shower yesterday I solved the character issues I had with my story Grey Matter... I loved the opening line but it was fucking up the rest of the story, so it occurred to me to change the SECOND line and POOF- story fixed. I can't tell you how relieved it was to finally have a solution for that story... it was slowly eating me alive!

I can also tell you that Jack sent me the cutest note pad jotter and pen set for my birthday and I love him/miss him dearly!! I know I'm behind on my Thank You cards, people, but I'm getting to it, PROMISE!!

Also, Titi Gloris reminded me that I need to go pick up my birthday gift. How could I have forgotten that?? I'll be over there Sunday afternoon for sure!

And finally, I got an email from my favorite sweatbox in Williamsburg, and it informed me that DJ Medina is spinning this weekend. Forget my usual 1st Saturdays + Soda Bar routine... you can find me there! And I know he'll play at least TWO Juan Luis Guerra tunes for me if I ask nicely and YES, Smarty, that will, in fact, make me happy.

(y mira aqui who's all of a sudden tryna be down with Dominicans.. I see you Zoe!)

But not as happy as I'll be once I hand in my resignation!

*smooches...checking the calendar to see if it's PMS week*
its the only reason as to why I've shed so many tears this week... but nope, that's next week. OH LORD! You mean it's about to get WORSE?!?!

(hope you enjoyed the Juan Luis medley... he is what makes me really, really happy, if not a little "homesick")

Thursday, June 04, 2009

It's Minnie's Birthday Y'all!

And she's gonna curse me out three ways from Sunday but WHATEVER... bitch is 36-years-young today.

Yeah, I did it. And WHAT??

Now, it's oh-so-difficult to convince this girl to get in front of the camera, so here are some oldies but goodies I snatched from previous blogs to add to her birthday tribute:

Why is she looking at me like that?? Suspect...

She just KNEW she was styling in her yellow dress

And she's pretty funny when she's drunk

She's pretty much like an older sister (that's N giving me bunny ears in the background. GRRR!)

And came allllll the way to NJ to see me graduate

Just know, if you mess with anyone in the family, most likely this face:

will be the last one you see before you're knocked the fuck out. Except she won't be smiling. Cause that's how Minnie rolls, son!!


*smooches...just for Minnie today*
everybody, join me in wishing her the best today :D

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

"Wherefore Art Thou, Lightening?"

Besides my recent blog break, I recently took a mini (i.e. 2-day) Twitter break, too. Just an all-around tech break to get some peace and quiet. Some people didn't take to kindly to that...

HIM: You know you want to twitter, Raquim. Don't deny your feelings!! TWITTER. TWITTEEEERRRRRR! ;-)

ME: Lucifer? How did you get my number?

HIM: As it turns out, Jesus stinks at poker. That halo is such a tell. Sucker!!

*smooches...resolved to never give Jesus my number again*
I mean, if you can't trust THAT fool to keep your private number, you know, PRIVATE, then who can you trust?!?!

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Where's My George?

I read over yesterday's post and realized how smooshy-wooshy feel good it sounded and I all but threw up in my mouth! I think the suburbs of NJ have started to infiltrate my brain.

It reminded me of Jerry's transformation in the Serenity Now episode, as seen here:

Since when am I happy? And smiling? And all of a sudden motivated to finish my thesis? OMG, and just yesterday I had the urge to rub this pregnant woman's belly! WHAT. THE. FUCK.

Where's the antidote to this shit? I can't, I repeat, I CAN'T lose my edge. I love my edge. It was so...EDGY!

And all y'all who were like, "love the positivity" and cheering me on need to be smacked!

I need a Costanza to scare me straight... SERENITY NOWWWWWW!

*smooches...admitting my fear of happiness*
but seriously, don't let me get all fluffy bunny n shit. I beg of you!

Monday, June 01, 2009

This Summer Has The Potential To Be Great

Especially since 2009 has proven to be full of shit up to date, with the exception of a handful of fun times.

I spent the weekend at Mami's again, half working/half loafing...100% loving it.

My Twitter followers know that part of this is due to her Verizon FiOS hook-up, which, by the way, is freakin AWESOME! (Seriously, Verizon, you need more spokespeople? Call me, I got you... and PS- when you coming w/the FiOS to Greenwood Heights, son?!? As ShellyShell would say: I need it in my life!)

But besides that, my mom's house is just so peaceful, even with the crazy Polish/Greek/Mexican neighbors who had some sort of family reunion party complete with loud ass music until almost midnight (just wait until WE have our parties... they don't know from noise!).

I mean there was crap everywhere and Mami & I are in this back and forth over how much G-D furniture she's trying to cram into this house, but I know in the end everything will be beautiful and I'm so excited about that.

And the yard & lawn need some serious TLC, the likes of which we don't know how to give, but that's nothing a hose or watering can or sprinkler system can't remedy. Plus, I eventually need to overcome my fear of her lawn mower because it's starting to look like Jurassic Park back there.

AND lets not forget the pool! I do believe that will be priority ONE once school's out, and even though it's not heated I'm so looking forward to it that it's not even funny.

But enough about this house, though. I love it there and it's the perfect weekend retreat from the beautiful chaos that is NYC, but this summer is just burgeoning with greatness just waiting for me to grab at it.

Like getting a new gig or getting published. Getting back to my fitness goals and having loads of quality face time with the babies that don't involve the words "did you finish your homework?" Graduation at FDU (hopefully I can show my face on campus with a completed thesis in hand... I can sort of feel my motivation creeping in) and a handful of exciting side projects I have for myself.

Then there are METS games at Citifield, the free concerts throughout NYC, outdoor film screenings at dusk, Dominican Night at the NY International Film Festival, kayaking in BK and, finances willing, a trip home to see my family and finally have that heart to heart with Grandma I've been putting off for a decade.

Finally, and I'm only writing this because if I don't one of the NYC Bloggers will call me on it, there's the potential to end my "Men Ain't Shit" campaign, courtesy of one really nice man, pending further approval from all The Voices. So far Clem is the only one who is over the moon, but I think she's on a mission to secure a majority vote from the others. And that's all I'm gonna say about that.

*smooches...hoping all our fabulous summer plans see the light of day*
although life does have a way of throwing us curve balls... let's just hope we're good at hitting those suckers out of the park, OK?