Changes

I had a tire blowout last week. It was nerve racking and caused a fair bit of anxiety. However, it couldn’t have been more perfectly timed if I tried. I wasn’t on a freeway, I wasn’t even going anywhere far. I was going to the tire shop because I knew that my tires were in bad shape. The tire exploded in the driveway of the tire shop. It was taken care of rather quickly. I paid too much for the new tires, something I am not sure I could have avoided even if I wasn’t riding the anxiety from a sudden explosion sound coming from a car I had only been using for a couple of weeks.

To which, I finally got my license. It only took twelve years. But I have, it’s mine. And I have no eyes in my picture. It’s odd, but it is entirely freeing in a way I could never have expected. It’s had me stop to think about a lot of different things, however. For one, it may be the time that I take a step back from school.

I have been a devoted student for the majority of my life. I haven’t given myself a break really ever. Even when I wasn’t in school, I was constantly thinking about when I was going back. What classes I needed to take. What did I want to do with my life? What was I trying to be? These questions have plagued me. Been something that was on the front of my mind no matter what I was doing.

The difference now is I know what I want. I know I want to be a teacher. I know what courses I need to take. What actions I have to go through. I also know that I am twenty eight years old. That the longest I have ever had to even pretend to take care of myself was for three weeks a couple weeks ago.  That I haven’t had anything other than a part time job really ever. And that the way I have been living can directly linked with just how bad my anxiety and depression can get . Has gotten. I have to make changes. I have to do something drastically different. And taking that step back can do it.

My focus right now is finding a full time job. One that will permit me to take the steps I should have long ago. I’ve sign up for courses on the chance that I don’t have a job before the semester will start. But I am actually hoping that I am gainfully employed before then.

This year has been one for changes. It’s time to keep that going.

Aches

I have had a headache for five days now.

It lives behind my right temple. Throbbing and stabbing. I keep taking Aleve for it, which offers temporary relief, but it also seems to anger my headache. I drink a lot of water, and I’ve splurged on food for the week to make sure it was not just another hunger ache.

This isn’t the longest headache I’ve had. It’s not even the worst. There was a three month period where I had a daily migraine. Strangely enough for me, the daily migraines pushed me to be more successful. They happened during the highest levels of stress and units at Pasadena City College. The pain and nauseating sensations fluttering in my stomach were the sources of this constant mantra “I can survive this, I can do anything.”

This headache. This wonderful, so far five days of dull pain and annoyance comes at me when I feel like I am trapped. At a point when my depression feels like it is weighing more, and more, and more every minute of every hour of every day. I’ve been more of a marionette doll, being pushed and pulled through the motions of living than actually doing anything myself. The mantra in my head? It’s nothing quite so uplifting as the one from before.

I don’t know what caused this flare up. I know right now, my head is aching and I want to sleep. But I have to pack up. I have to cook dinner. I have homework to do.

I have to find whatever will snap me out of being pulled by invisible strings, and be the one pulling the strings.

Laller is getting a lot worse. She is more a child now than she is an adult – though there are flashes of who she was before. Like this morning, when she asked me to bring her home bourbon. I don’t know why she wants bourbon. Just that it’s going to lead to an interesting conversation with my father later tonight.

Hopefully, the next time I sit down to make an entry, I feel better. Simply sitting and typing has done some to help.

Hopefully.

 

Life, Graduation, and the Grandmother Chronicles

I’ve been writing, like my last blog said I would as part of my resolution. But it’s all been private or not shared, and I realized that that’s not the point of having one of these blogs. So, I give you an update, as well as the start of something new.

I am in my last semester at Pasadena City College. At this point, well into it. And it’s going okay. I am doing my work and studying and being a student. I’m being the President of the Queer Alliance to the very best of my ability. And it’s good. I’m happy, if not sometimes a little stressed out. I spend the majority of my time at school or on campus. Like 5 days a week, sometimes not leaving till 9 or 9:30 at night. But it’ll be worth it. In the end, I’m walking away with three different Associate Degrees, plus an Associate Transfer degree. I’m doing some part time work, trying to get students to tutor, and babysitting one of my best friend’s kid on Thursday nights.

The biggest change, beyond any doubt, is that my grandmother Laller now lives with my family and I. About a month ago, she was unceremoniously kicked out of the home she lived in. So she lives with us now. And it’s definitely different. Alzheimer’s is a hell of a disease, and some days its a bit more difficult than others.However, there are days, and moments in every day that are just adorable. The moments that I sit back, and I smile. For those moments. I want to chronicle them here. I know that in the future, I’m going to want to go back and look at those moments more than I will the frustrating ones.

So to start the Grandmother Chronicles.

Yesterday I took Laller to go and get her hair cut, and to the Disney store to pick up a stuffed toy for her to cuddle. While at the salon, she started poking the posters going “Beep boop” because she heard me doing that earlier. And at the Disney store, she had a hard time picking just one toy. Or just getting a toy. It was very much like *me* in the Disney store when I am trying to get one thing.

Both were smile worthy. Especially when at the end, she started waving at all the kids and humming to the music in the store.

Whelp…

At the beginning of the year, I made out a list of goals I intended on completing. They were simple, for the most part. And I did okay on them, for the first time really ever.

They were as follows:

  • Take a selfie every day, and post it on instagram with the hashtag #selfieoftheday.

This was to help me feel better about the way I look, and build some confidence. And I did this pretty consistently all year. There was a period of time when I didn’t have a camera, and a few days I just couldn’t bring myself to look at me in a mirror, let alone a camera.

  • Write daily.

Utterly and completely failed at this one. I did write more, to a point of I have started a new story I’m muddling my way through. But daily. Yeah.. That did not happen.

  • Walk for twenty minutes every day.

Sort of? The past couple months I could barely breathe some days, so I didn’t do much of the walking thing. But every day I could I walked around the block twice.

  • Read one hundred books.

I read eighty-seven. That’s not bad. That is also not including the books that I reread more than once this year. If I add all the rereads, it’s over a hundred.

  • Get driver’s license.

Nope, but I am totally ready to take the permit test next year. Which, is better than nothing.

 

It’s not bad – especially considering that I was in school, and I spent a good few months really sick. I did, at least on some level and within reason, complete the majority of the goals I set for myself this past year.

And looking back on 2015? There is a lot I would do differently. I wouldn’t waste my time on the people who didn’t really deserve my time or energy. I’d say yes to more of the things I was too scared to say yes to, and say no to the things that kept me back. I’d get back on the ice, and relearn how to skate. See more shows. Spend more time with my friends. But most importantly – I’d spend way more time on me. If I take away anything from this year – I need better self care methods.

So looking forward, I want to do more of the things.

My goals for 2016 are:

  • Write at least three pages of something a week.
  • Graduate from Pasadena City College.
  • Do a once-a-month self-date thing.
  • Go to University. (C’mon CSU Northridge you know you want this spaz)
  • Actually get my license.
  •  Read 50 new books.
  • Take one workout class.
  • Take a selfie everyday, but only post the ones that actually make me feel good about myself, instead of posting the ones that make me feel awful about myself.
  • Keep applying to jobs. Maybe actually get one. Maybe. (Someone please hire me.)
  • See friends at least twice a month outside of school.
  • Follow your gut instinct when it comes to the people you interact with.

 

 

The Growing Rage

“The Growing Rage”
inspired by My Angry Vagina by Eve Ensler

This was supposed to be a good week, one where she would have growing happiness and contentment. Though it did have one planned setback. It was Kris’s week off from work. She’d have time with her husband, time with her daughter, time for her friends.

It was just supposed to start with a routine appointment to her OBGYN.
The thought sent her body into a pained, tense clench. Those appointments were never pleasant, no matter what the cause of the visit was. They should find a way to make them less uncomfortable, she thought bitterly as she pulled a light dress over her head.

She headed down the hall, towards her little girls room. That girl was a part of the light and joy in her life. A beautiful person, and a beautiful reminder of how amazing her own body is. Standing over the crib, she smiled serenely at her sleeping daughter.

“You’re gonna be amazing, blueberry,” she murmured softly. “You are gonna be strong, and powerful. You will be whatever it is you want. Anyone who tells you that you are less, you will not believe. I won’t let you.”

The doorbell rang. Rushing to the door, she let in her nanny. Kris gave brief, hurried instructions before grabbing her keys, purse, and a light jacket. After a quick glance towards her daughter’s bedroom door, she left her apartment.

****

The drive to the doctor’s office was normally only 20 minutes. It was a usually uneventful experience, with the radio deafening her ears with classic rock. She’d sit silently. bobbing her head in tune with the music, intent on only arriving at her destination. Today’s drive was no different, with the exception of the anxiety knot growing near her stomach. She stiffly exited the car, staring up at the doctors building with intense dislike. As soon as she entered the building, she let the assistant nurse know she was there, and sat to wait until her name was called.
Another mother sat across from her, with a young son and teenaged daughter sitting next to her. The teenager was loudly pleading with her mother, while the son swung his feet back and forth.

Kris promptly tuned out whatever the girl was saying, letting her eyes rove the pale, faded pink walls of the waiting room. One wall contained two generic, motivational posters with cats on them, that Kris scoffed at. The other wall had a window overlooking the city, and teasing her with the bright, sunny day outside.
I could be out there. I could be out with my girl in a park, laughing and enjoying myself instead of in here waiting to have crap put in me.

The boys loud sigh drew her back towards the small group across from her. Kris watched as he glared and rolled his eyes at his sister, failing to be able to ignore his sisters voice. His sister was oblivious to her brothers glaring, and continued to argue with her mother.

“It’s so unfair. I am the only one. I just want a thong. One measly lil thong. The world won’t explode if I have one”

“I said no.”

Kris shook her head in partial disgust, catching the mothers eye. The two mothers looked across the room at each other, sharing an exasperated look as the girl declared the whole thing a total injustice, that would soon result in her actual death.

Those have to be one of the worst pieces of clothing ever invented, Kris thought angrily as listened to the girls continued outcries. They are tight, don’t give that area breathing room.. and the wedgies. Oh lord that string digging its way into my ass… scrunching itself against me and crusting over…

“Kris? The doctor will see you now.”

Kris got up, sparing a sympathetic glance at the other mother and her son before following the nurse down the hall into an examination room. Her vitals and weight were taken . Before the nurse left the room, she handed Kris a gown to change into, and told her to strip completely before putting the gown on then to wait on the bed.

The gown was made of paper, scratched at her nipples and all around uncomfortable. Kris rubbed her breast softly, trying to find ways of easing her discomfort. The doctors presence did nothing to help that. He unfolded the metal stirrups at the end of the bed while questioning her about her general health

“Last period?”

Three weeks. I’m expecting it within this coming week.”

“Any unusual pain or discomfort while urinating?”

“No.”

“Good. Place your feet in the stirrups and get as close to the edge of the bed as you can. And please, relax.”

Kris did her best to comply. When she wasn’t close enough to the edge, the doctor gently grabbed onto her sides and pulled her closer. She laid on her back, completely exposed to her doctor. He made the usual, everything looks good comments before starting to pull out the instruments necessary for the exam. Kris clenched at the sight of the duck lips designed hold her open.

“Relax. It’ll make it go easier,” explained the doctor, picking up that dreaded tool.

Does he realize what he’s saying?

He squirts lubricant onto the tool. She warily eyed it, as it glinted against the fluorescent light above them.

“It might be a little cold,” he says before abruptly inserting the lips inside her.

It takes everything Kris has to not yelp at the shock of cold metal against hot flesh.

“Please relax.”

How can I relax? How the fuck can I relax. You just shoved a cruel, mean instrument that hurts. That’s holding me open so you can shove more things in me and make me hurt. For what? So you can examine my insides. So you can look into my vagina and tell me what you see?

The doctor flips a small light onto his head, poking her inside with a small wooden stick.

“Do you use a douche at all?”

“No. My vagina can clean itself. That’s part what it’s meant to do. I don’t need to clean it more, or try to make it smell like anything other than what it is.”

“Good. Not many women know that.”

10 tortuous minutes later. It’s finished. She leaves the office, sore and feeling a growing rage within her entire body, eager to return home to her little girls smile. Her little reminder. Her little miracle. Nothing can get her there fast enough.

She gets home and lets the nanny go. The rest of her day is spent watching her girl smile, encouraging her to learn all she can in that day. Encouraging her to be independent. Encouraging her to grow.

***

The rest of her week was pleasant. She and her husband had taken their daughter to the gardens, beach and local museums. She had had dinner with her friends three of the nights. Her period had started. She had scoured the supermarket searching for something comfortable to use. When that failed, she had grabbed her box of usual tampons. This is not what I want for me. This is one of the worst fucking things on the planet. This is not what I want for my girl. These wads of cotton are not the experience I want my child to have.

Her anger had only grown.

It was her last day of vacation for work. She chose to celebrate it by calling the nanny so she, her husband, and their best friends, Amy and Randal, could go out for one last night of drinks and dinner.

Throughout the course of the evening, Kris’s anger grew. They had talked about movies, how it was inappropriate when a woman was shown being pleasured. That a woman’s pleasure automatically made the movie rated R, while a man’s was more acceptable. They had talked about the options women had in terms of keeping healthy, and comfortable while doing so, compared to what men. The husbands did not see how it was unfair, that difference. Amy did not fully understand the complaints that Kris had made. The doctors did what they could. Women’s bodies needed to be suppressed to keep with the social norm.

Kris was livid, but it was more than just her mind. Her body screamed in rage at the treatment those she had closest to her believed. That for any aspects of being tortured and in pain, any suppression of any part of her. It made her furious.

So she opened her lips, and began to speak.

The tale of the worst date ever

2012 had me face the hardest break up I have ever gone through. The reasons behind it, how much I cared about my partner at the time. The whole thing nearly destroyed me.  At least it felt like that at the time. I swore off all dating, sort of cut myself out of peoples, and stayed locked away in my misery for a good portion of the year.

Sometime in that November I was convinced to go out on date. My better judgement said not to do it, cause well. I haven’t had time for my actual friends much lately. I won’t have time to make doing this a regular thing. But I went regardless of that.

For the most part. It was actually okay. We had food, he bought me books. He was really really sarcastic and funny. And I was able to keep up and actually be mildly entertaining myself. Which was odd. At some point it was decided that we should go up to the observatory, because part of our conversations kept going back to space travel and science fiction. And how he didn’t care for that stuff but I loved it.

That is where all went to hell.

The drive way up to observatory was closed. But we could see people hiking around the entry way so we hopped out of the car and walked around a little. I promptly slipped and landed really hard on my ass. He managed to slip and roll around in the dirt and get a bunch of twigs down his shirt. Giving up on walking, we went back towards his truck where he decided to lean in and kiss me. Which was mildly like kissing a slobbery bulldog.

And then his hands wrapped around my neck, and he asked if this got me hot.

I told him I needed to go home.

But it didn’t stop there! On the way home, while talking about Doctor Who (because I really wanted to get away from the choking incident), he kind of casually asked if he could bend me over and lick my asshole clean sometime, then make out with me right after. And if I would like to sit on his face and fart on him. After about a minute of what the fuck silence, it occurred to me we were at a red light. So I said no, good bye. And jumped out of his car and ran. I don’t know if he tried to stop and look for me, I just went in a area that looked dark enough to hide in and waited a few minutes. Called a friend who lived near by, and then headed over there.

Now, after getting over the mild trauma of “Can I lick your asshole?” and being choked on a first date. I find the entire situation hilarious. I don’t know how the hell I continuously find people like this. Or how I keep thinking, gee. This guy seems relativity normal WAIT NO. I don’t know a lot about dating. I really don’t. I do know that asking questions like that, or choking at random, shouldn’t be a first date activity. And there is a huge part of me screaming at the whole ass to mouth concept. That just seems a measure beyond gross.

It took some time before I reentered dating after that. But it was a valuable life lesson. And a story that I will always have to laugh at either by myself or in the company of others.

Disneyland. Part 1.

I’ve been meaning to update this. I’ve had the entry written out for a while now. But every time I’ve had the chance to go and sit down to type. Something came up. Those chances were rare too. Between school, my younger brother’s high school graduation, my Tio Chale’s funeral… time has been scarce. So for the people who do read this – I apologize. My goal is weekly updates.

Any ways. Moving on.

This is the first time I will write about Disney. I can guarantee you right now it won’t be the last. The different areas of the Disney Corporation has had such a huge impact on my life, and it means so much me. Disneyland, for instance, is one the most important places I can point out about my childhood.

Continue reading “Disneyland. Part 1.”

That time I dropped a television on my foot, and then it broke six months later

Hiya internet. I’m Murphy. I really am using this platform to improve my writing, and ability to tell stories. I hope those who read this enjoy it. And to give you a bit of a decent idea into some of the types of things that happen to me – here’s the most told story onto why I am called Murphy.

Continue reading “That time I dropped a television on my foot, and then it broke six months later”