Thursday, December 29, 2016

[For The Record...]

I've been asking myself such aggravating questions lately. Why? What's the point? Why bother?
Don't get me wrong. This is not one of those times when I want to do absolutely nothing and just let time pass by in an uneventful manner. No. I have far more important things to think about now.
This is a time when I'm feeling like my kindness has reached a new level and I feel like my face is toilet paper. And that it's the same people wiping themselves with me over and over again. 
I have been guaranteed that I am a good time. I have been told before that I'm good at listening, at making people laugh and at sympathizing with others, even if I've never been in a similar situation before. Even though most of my best friends live an ocean away, I do have many here that make sure to keep my around. This is because I'm ridiculously loyal, I don't sugar coat things and most importantly, I keep them around as well.

The importance is to keep a balance. To make sure things are said, that dates are kept and that somehow, somewhere, someone knows you're thinking about them. It's also the proverbial two-way street. It doesn't work if you don't get the same deal back. It might function for a little while, in a mediocre way, but nothing solid. Nothing meaningful or everlasting.

Which brings me to my next point. If I've been in a one-way street for years now, and there's no sign of opposite traffic anytime soon... What exactly is the point of trying? If it's so excruciatingly obvious and painfully exaggerated that I mean nothing to this person... Why do I continue to hang on to this friendship, that is clearly only in my head?

I don't want this blog to be about how I changed. I don't want it to be about how so many things got ruined for me because of this friendship. About how bitter I am because I cared just a tad too much, and it all turned to nothing. About how I'll never get close to anyone ever again, because of the doings of one person. I don't want this blog to be ruined for me, too.

I just want to get off this rollercoaster ride. I don't want to keep trying to let go. I want to be let go. I have done my part in keeping my distance. I want to be given the same respect. I want to stop feeling like a joke. Feeling like there must be a range of stories that are now public and I'm the only one that doesn't know they are. Feeling like I'm a burden. Like I'm a secondary deal to someone who's always been a priority for me. I want to stop missing and needing and giving so much importance to people who simply don't deserve.

I'm sick of talking about the same troubles. 

I hate that I miss you even with everything that's gone down.
I didn't imagine what we had. It actually happened. Why did it end? I'll never understand. But I can assure you one day, you'll have mercy on this friendship that once was.
One day you'll tell me what I did wrong, why you made it disappear... why I'm nothing to you now. And on that day, when you're finally able to face me, to release that ounce of confrontational strength you've accomplished, I will listen. I will be there, just like I've always been.
Things will never be the same. But someday you will have to talk to me. Be it out of guilt, compassion or just plain boredom, you will reach out to me. And I will be, just like always, just around the corner.
And I don't ever want you to ever, EVER doubt that I'll be here. Like no one else has been there for you in this forsaken place.
One day I hope you believe in yourself like I have. That you realize that you have a heart. That you always did.

... Underneath all that ice.


Thursday, December 31, 2015

Mala... Agradecida

Como es costumbre (para bien o para mal) cierro el año con un post en mi pseudo-olvidado blog. Hoy vuelvo a mis raíces publicando en Español. Total, los panas que leen en Inglés no se hacen sentir con el mismo fervor, y aunque me informan que puedo hacer maravillas con ese idioma, siempre he pensado que el Español ha hecho muchas más maravillas conmigo.

Desde hace ya varios años estos posts de fin de año han dejado mucho qué desear. Siempre hay mucha ansiedad en mí, varias quejas de amistades rotas, y una que otra resolución. Quizá perdí el toque, o quizá realmente no estaba al 100 por ciento dedicada a lo que estaba escribiendo. De hecho, ahora mismo estoy dando vida a estas líneas y no me siento conforme con lo que está saliendo.

Pero lo crudo del caso, el punto que estoy esforzándome por establecer, es que al final de la historia de lo que fue el 2015... Me siento increíblemente malagradecida.

Vivo una buena vida. Tengo una familia realmente excepcional. Tengo un buen trabajo y por lo general soy buena persona. No entiendo por qué me empeño en dejar que cosas que no debieran importarme, me hagan olvidar o descuidarme de todas estas bendiciones.

En algún momento, hace ya par de años, me olvidé de mí. Me obsesioné con situaciones en que nisiquiera viene al caso abundar y como dice aquella bella canción, "Me olvidé de vivir.". Perdí amigos, pero a todos nos pasa. Gané muchos otros, pero no he aprovechado diversos chances para hacerles ver que su llegada a mi vida ha sido importante. 

Incluso perdí muchas oportunidades de ver cosas en mi hija que sólo van a pasar una vez en su vida, por prestar atención a dolores pasajeros. Eso nunca me lo voy a perdonar.

Sin embargo... Dios me dio una hija! Me ha dejado verla crecer sana y fuerte hasta ahora. Mis cuñados no pueden decir lo mismo. Su bella hija se marchó al cielo este año. Se me rompe el alma al hacer la comparación. Pero es que simplemente soy dichosa... Soy bendecida... Soy verdaderamente malagradecida.

Hoy no les presento resoluciones, no me hago promesas a mí misma. Tampoco les digo cómo vivir su vida. Sólo recuerden que el mundo de cada quién, sólo esa persona lo conoce. Sólo tú sabes por lo que pasas, al igual que sólo yo sé lo que tengo de este lado. Abre los ojos, recuerda que siempre puede ser peor. No dejes que la vida te enrrede tanto la mente, que olvides lo bella que es. Recuerda que lo que hablas, dices, escribes y siembras, lo verás escuchado, recibido, leído y cosechado en tus hijos, y en todas las personas que te miran como ejemplo. Y si eres de los que se cree fuera de responsabilidad con los demás, recuerda que nunca sabes si eres el ejemplo de alguien. Es difícil percibirlo si te dejas agarrar de círculos viciosos y amistades de una vía.

Recuerda que estás vivo. Que no estás huyendo, peleando guerras que no son tuyas. Que no vives en el terror, y que es posible que tengas un futuro. Y claro, también es posible que ese futuro sea grandioso.

Sin más nada, me despido por este año. Que el 2016 te traiga todo lo que necesitas y mucho de lo que quieres. Y que Dios (o en lo que sea que creas) te guíe siempre por el camino del bien.

Con el cariño de siempre,

Friday, July 10, 2015

Virgo and Moonchild

It's 3:30am and anxiety has once again moved in under my covers. When this happens, I usually have a pretty good idea why. From something heavy, like that a friendship is inevitably going downhill, to something that really shouldn't give me anxiety at all at this point, like public speaking.
However, this time around, it's a combination of both. Not one, but two of my dungeon buddies are leaving my department at work. You may think that my anxiety would be the inevitable workload growth, the difficulty of training, getting to know and dealing with new co-workers, and the fact that nobody has time for anything these days. If so, you couldn't be farther from the truth.
I will really, deeply, inevitably and unapologetically miss these women. They have been there for me in more ways than I could have asked for. They have lived things with me and trusted things in me that only friends of decades do. In a very short amount of time, we became dependent on each other without even noticing.
My pretty-eyed Virgo has so much love to give. Never admits out loud how beautiful she is, how strong she has become or how awkward I made things for her sometimes. Because she is all class. No judgement for me, even when she saw me at my worst. We share simultaneous experiences that I'm truly convinced had to coincide in order for us to become friends. We would have been just a little crazier had we had to endure these ordeals alone. But after that was over, there was so much more. There is still so much more unresolved. But all in due time. Now she moves on to new horizons, and I couldn't be happier. But it's an understatement to say I'll miss our talks so much, from reading our shared horoscope, to as over-thinking-ly as they could get. 
Sometimes I wonder where our "plan" sheet went. Operation Samurai or something? Then I realize I would only wanna see that sheet to burn it, or do something to it that I can't put here, 'cause let's face it, we're classy broads.
I thank God (or whatever she believes in ;-)) for knowing her, and I'm grateful for her coming into in my life. And rest assured if we do drift apart, I will understand. We kinda already have, but everything happens for a reason, they say. She was honest enough to answer me one day that when we stopped working together, inevitably things would change. It has happened with countless people before, but she was honest enough to pseudo-warn me. Doesn't stop being bittersweet, though. She has so many great things to accomplish and I can't wait to hear about them!
My ever so easygoing Moonchild became my sister in the blink of an eye. So gently honest, so humble, so modest, but yet so wholesome. And man, what a booty! Lol... I can't help dreading the thought that I won't see her amazing beach-waved hair every morning, wondering how the heck she manages to look amazing even in sweats, and how she's never had a frown that lasted over an hour in the year I've known her.
Always up for great conversation, never holding back advice and always having me begging for a video blog (can you please get on that already?), she made it fun to go to work again. Always coming up with reasons to throw cube parties, ten second dance sessions and shaking up the FMM. She is the epitome of the co-worker that effortlessly walks her way into your friendship circle. The kind of person you never wanna lose sight of. The one you look up to and can't help but wanna be like her. And exemplar mother and the true definition of "family first".
She introduced sex talking at our cubes first thing in the morning! Everyone assumes its me all the time! How could we not miss her, when all she's done is crawl into our hearts and set up camp there? I know, like she said yesterday, she will be around. But man, will I miss all her amusing stories (I'm still convinced all that stuff only happens to her) her incredible and apparently unbreakable sense of humor and her all-around easygoing manner. Like I've told her so many times already, I hope she always knows I'm here for her. 
Today I can't help but choke up at the thought that I won't see these girls every morning anymore. Yes, I've lost countless co-workers, and yes, I miss most of them very dearly. But these were different bonds. These involved similar sorrows, family growing pains, and situations we'll never forget. Situations that helped us grow, become, forgive, endure and enjoy life just a little more.
Go on and continue to make everyone that loves you very proud. We may drift apart, but we're friends. As simple or as complicated as life may be. I'm blessed you're part of mine.
Love you both,

Monday, March 16, 2015

Before Something Great Happens...

The other day one of my really good friends said, "Before something great happens, usually a lot of bad things happen first.". She didn't use those exact words, but given the bitch-fest hour we had just accomplished, for lack of a better word, I knew where she was coming from. She was referring to hopeful idealism: When you've reached rock bottom, there's nowhere to go but up.

While I've tried not to get my hopes up for this year (because I had outstanding hopes for 2014, and one of these days I'll puke myself into telling you how it went), once in a while, little phrases like these make their way into my thoughts. Good thoughts, for a change. In the middle of everything, those simple thoughts can save you from getting closer to insanity.

Anxiety is your worst enemy when there are just too many weird things going on. One instance is to feel like you're barely in control, and a very different one is to feel that your surroundings completely control you, your mood, your decisions, your view of every little thing or situation. It's not comfortable to second guess every decision, of ever minute, of every hour. And I'm feeling it lately. Ughhh, and it's a m'er f'er this time around. Wrinkles under my eyes, a few gray hairs and everything. It's here, full force.

A lot of our good friends have gone to better places, less like death and more like better jobs. We're left behind joking about slitting our wrists, jumping off a cliff, or setting the place on fire. It's all fun and games, and we keep the class, I mean, who doesn't joke about how miserable their workplace is? But damn... Something's gotta give. It's like people and processes are out doing themselves in the realm of difficulty, and we're left to wonder why we should even care about the whole thing.

For all we've been through this past year, my dungeon buddies and I deserve an awesome 2015. It's time for new stories, new people to accompany these stories, and fresh perspectives to go with the fresh personalities some of us have. And to awaken the calmer personalities of the bunch. ... Wait, never mind, we have none of those.

When my friend said that, and her pretty and inevitably adventurous eyes kinda lit up, I couldn't help but find myself hoping she's right.  Some would say we're just dealing with glorified first world problems. I think we're just growing up a little more. And I don't want it!

But at the end of the day, I'm just thankful. That we're going through this together, that it'll end at some point, and that it could always be worse.

We could be out of work, or being overworked... I could be prohibited from writing these words. I'm obviously all over the place. But that's where I'm supposed to be, I guess... Before Something Great Happens.

YD 3/26/2015.-

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

The Proof is in the Blogging

Yeah, I know. It's been a little a while since I've visited. But after this crazy season winds down, I promise I'll be back with a few pretty good ponderings, and maybe even some entertaining stories.

I just had to lock in this last post before the end of the year. Before getting stopped dead in my tracks, slapped right in the middle of my face, perhaps even mid-frolic ;-), by that new pseudo-hope that inevitably appears with New Year's Day.

And yes, I'm being extra concerned about something that most likely only matters to me, but that's precisely the point. Apart from my family and friends, you're one of the things that remains that I truly and genuinely care about. You're my blog, one of the strongest pieces of proof that I was once sane and then went insane, and have been in that back-and-forth ever since. How could I possibly let you go?

What would I have done without you when I went into those places so dark I would have never found my way out, because there was no one I could talk to that could so much as start trying to understand, or even accept?

Who would I have turned to in the times life decided to add in the shock factor of a surprise on top of another, even before I recuperated from the first? I would have never been able to handle myself and react as the classy broad I am!!

I promise I won't outgrow you, Blog. I don't think I ever could. Thanks for everything to you, my ever unconditional friend, and to your little sister, the password protected one, for helping me keep the secrets of a friend I thought would be just as unconditional.

And yes, you, reading this, you're most welcome to call me crazy for talking to something inanimate. But in all honesty... Do I look like I can afford therapy?

With that... Cheers, everyone. Here's to an outstanding 2015. May it be ever fulfilling, ever unforgettable, and ever unique.

... Just like my blog.


Sunday, October 26, 2014

The Secret Life of Pushovers (II)

Where was I? Ah, yes, my favorite pushover ever. For sh*ts and giggles, we'll call him Donatello, in the true spirit of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles making their much awaited comeback. Plus, our leading fella's name is the same as one of theirs.
Donatello was, at the time, shorter than I was. A bit darker than me, with soft eyes that made him look like he had been hurt (by something physical and simplistic, like getting hit by a car, not by, like, heartache), and in my entire life I have undoubtedly never kissed bigger lips. Twice my size (I know, right?!), plumped up like on God's Botox, and perfectly shaped like the healthiest apple. We were really good for each other because he boosted my self-esteem as best as he could, and I brought him out of his shell a little. (Get it? Shell? Half shell, cause he's Donatello?? I crack myself up...)
Anyhow, I wasn't exactly Miss Kind when I used to date him, so Donatello ended up taking a few bullets for me. Perfect example, I started some gossip about a mutual friend, blamed good ol' Donatello, and he took it like a man, even if it meant that our friend wouldn't talk to him for a while. To this day, I haven't thanked him for that. I know you're reading this, so thanks, D.!
There was also an instance where Yvette, a couple of new friends, Don and I were at Plaza Zona Rosa, when it used to be the hot spot for college kids, and he disappeared on us for like an hour. When he showed up, not only did I rip him a new as*hole, I did it in front of our new friends. It wasn't until half hour later that we realized he was doing it to stall us from heading home, as my mom was preparing a surprise birthday party for Yvette. And my mom LOVED Donatello with such a passion, that she counted on him to be in on the plan INSTEAD of me.
The decline in our relationship came when he took being a pushover to the next level. I was beginning to be super into him, and (with the help with my prying mother) picturing a pretty great future with him. But the boy took some pretty bad advice. One of his friends, of which I have never inquired the name, told him he needed to "show me 'what he had' a little more". This meant that, not only was it pretty obvious Donatello had money, but he now had to boast about it. He actually paid attention to that piece of... gold.
While out on dates, he told me he made the huge effort of not repeating the same clothing twice a year; he said he wanted to buy an original NES, "just to have it", not even to take it out of the box; the kicker was when we passed a jewelry store and I mentioned I really liked a diamond cross that was on the window, and he gave me that look that rich people give, like they can buy your soul if they wanted to. I stopped him dead in his tracks and told him not to even think about buying it.
But the glass that spilled the cup for me was the fact that he had the opportunity to enroll in an international program straight from the university he was attending (we didn't go to the same school, he was at the rich-kid university, PUCMM), it entailed a few years at the Rochester Institute of Technology.  And... he rejected the opportunity. Yup, he turned down a ridiculously positive experience... for none other.. than... me. I know it sound romantic as f*ck, but I was FURIOUS. I remember my throat hurting as I yelled over the phone. How could he throw away something so great, a truly amazing opportunity, over someone who treated him like total crap? Had I been more mature I would have realized he was trying not to be away from me and visualizing a future with me. But all he did was freak me out. Seemed like he just couldn't find a balance between making me want him for him, and making me love him I'm spite of him being rich. So he did what any pushover would do, push himself over and put me first. All he really did was what he thought was best, and I couldn't see past freaking out over someone wanting to give me everything. It was over within the month.
The last time I saw Donatello, we were having dinner in what's probably my favorite joint in Santiago at the moment. He said he was crushed that last time he called my house phone and Yvette picked up, looked at me, and not even lowering my voice, I said "Tell him I'm not here." I don't remember that happening, but the way I was treating him those days, I wouldn't have put it past me. I do remember Yvette sending him a letter through mIRC that she had found, where I was breaking up with him. He typed back that he was going to see if his parents would get him out of the country. "Oh, NOW you wanna leave??" I remember being so pissed, and freaked out, and overwhelmed, that at that point nothing he couldn't do anything to alleviate it.
He did alleviate things for himself, though. Became super ambitious, found a wife that's just a tad less ambitious than him, heheh... And is fulfilling his dreams as best as he can. That's not easy back in the Dominican Republic. Overall, I'm happy he's still my friend, and that he overcame this whole pushover deal. Which is truly more than I can say for a lot of other friends I have at the moment. But that, my friends, is another story.
So if you are a pushover, or know someone who is, and you are currently not happy with your situation, remember this: sometimes the other person is just waiting for you to take charge this time around. Don't sit and wait. For what you'll inevitably be pushing next, will be your relationship away, and your suitcases out the door. And it won't be to go to Rochester!!

Thursday, September 25, 2014

The Secret Life of Pushovers

Growing up and while dating I wasn't very confident. Yes, I stopped being shy as soon as I hit sophomore year in high school, but confidence didn't really work its way into my repertoire of magic tricks until sophomore year in college. Up until that point, I had been drawn to dudes who were very sure (even full) of themselves. And super secure in me, too. As far as they were concerned, infidelity would never be an issue, because I was so self conscious, that I could never shoot for someone better for me.

Now, keep in mind I never thought I'd have a serious relationship, let alone become engaged or get married. My plans for the future revolved around a Mack truck with windows, looking as badass as "Lola La Trailera", never living in the same state for more than a year, and settling for being cool Aunt Yani for the rest of my life. I couldn't be bothered with the conversation of being a wife and mothering kids to some hot shot. Because I would be the hot shot. Whatever I did professionally would be BIG. Whatever I did romantically, not so much.

Life can definitely throw you in directions never expected. And the fact I actually found someone crazy enough to put up with my eccentricities (which I didn't know existed until my thirties, smacking me so hard that my chin gets smaller by the minute) is still some kind of a mystery to me.

But I digress. So I dated (defining dating as puritan, unadulterated, nonsexual and unapologetic fun) a handful of guys who were absolutely sure of what they were doing at the moment. Locking me down while they had no idea how to fix their own locks regarding self awareness. Clueless about their appearance and completely oblivious to the fact that other guys were looking at me. And looking pretty hard.

And then came the pushovers. That group of guys that inevitably made me realize who I had previously been and why I could never be that way again. The pushover had a few character traits that set him apart from the rest of the dating spectrum, and that still live worldwide today. (Ughhhh, "worldwide", I just totally sounded like Pitbull. Remind me never to say that word again...)

1) He is not enough for you, let alone for anyone else. The pushover is an expert at strongly believing you'll dump him the second he says the wrong thing. And once you leave him, he'll be alone forever, because let's face it, he's nothing without you. You made him, and you will destroy him if this happens.

2) Everything is unbearable. It's the end of the world when an argument comes about. He drowns in a sorrow so deep, his face can only be described by that little emoticon that has its eyes sadly shut and his mouth open oh, so wide in a ridiculous frown. Yes, it would be easier to paste the emoticon here, but I got you to exercise your imagination, didn't I?

3) Looks don't matter, but BOY, DO THEY MATTER! He looks in the mirror fifty times before going out, and seventy-five times before exiting the cab to go in the club. Yet, he has the audacity to say looks aren't important and thrives on saying he's with you specifically because of your personality. God forbid you getting a big head for believing you're cuter than you really are! No, he'll tell you that you're beautiful, but he'll never push it. Because in his eyes, the second you realize you're a lot hotter than he is, you're dumping his ass.

This last one is particularly curious because it's where the pushover tries to convince the world that he's not a pushover. He portrays a tiny bit of confidence, which is total bs, because he's secretly and dramatically dying inside.

I dated a boy who was probably the biggest pushover I have ever met. This guy was booksmart, the pride of both his (loaded) parents and teachers. He was the only one in our clique that went to school for what I like to call engineering on steroids, AKA Telematics Engineering. He was bright, and always put his studies over everything else. And a successful future could clearly be seen for him, no matter what he did... Until I came along.

... To Be Continued...

(Woa! I hadn't typed "To Be Continued" in years! Feels good. Why did I stop doing that again?)

Yani DLC