the EX factor

I was talking to a good friend the other day about how certain cars, because they were driven by our ex-boyfriends/lovers/crushes still stand out in the mind. It is interesting how a car becomes a symbol of our presence in a certain place, or can jolt a memory into our head faster than you can say Honda Civic Hatchback.
The first car that I was obsessively spotting around the high school parking lot was a midnight black soft top Jeep with custom gigantic wheels. If that wasn't enough to solidify it's presence amongst the other cars, it also had a unique and distinctive read view mirror that sported spikes. Yikes. My heart would flutter as I pulled into the parking lot and saw that symbol of the heart throb badass. Another high school crush car that still makes me laugh at my ridiculousness and poor self esteem is a Chevy Blazer. Holy crap, my insecurities got the best of me when the car owner and I decided to trade cars for a day and I was so nervous that I couldn't even get his keys to open the door. Im still surprised my face did not fall off, I was so embarrassed.
With my first boyfriend came the SUBARU experience. I had little knowledge ( and interest) in learning about cars at that time, but by the end of the relationship I could tell you the differences in performance power between the STI and the WRX models. STI being clearly the superior. Driving that car was also a pretty cool experience because those who knew anything about cars and saw me step out of it has a sudden appreciation for "my" car choice.
Since then the parking space outside my home had been filled with a variety of other car brands. The beat up gold Toyota still has a special place in my drive way because of the endless miles it drove back and forth from Tucson and how easy it was to fog up the the windows on a cold November day. After that breakup the sight of that 98 rear end would bring tears to my eyes for months. Also on the honorable mention list, a french car in which we spun around the Arc de Triumph, Maria and I clinging to each other for dear life.
Most recently there was a been a Ford that drew my attention. I dont know the model or year but the out of state license plate and especially the bumpy looking back have now made it possible for me to spot it's sublings without a second thought.
Thank you cars for being random reminders of good times, awkward moments (my fave) and also giving me a heads up so I can duck out of the way if the person who owns the car is someone I do not wish to ever speak to again.
Another topic that I want to write about but do not have the time would have to be an extension of Jessica's post about ex-boyfriends and music. The friends that we attain while being involved with someone sometimes end up being better for us than the relationship itself. :)

Are you afraid to die?

I believe the old addage goes a little like this: there are only two guarantees in life- death and taxes.

Being that up to this point I have managed to escape paying taxes {(wooo for being a full time student and a full time employee, ASU was good for something...) and even had my mom's HELP in doing most of them, lets be real- I just sat there and nodded as she explained it and then she ended up doing them mostly herself anyway(shit, im more wordy than normal today} I now come to expect that death is the only sure truth in this crazy ass world we live in. That being said, how do ya'll feel about it?

A friend and I had a really amazing conversation a few months back about the millions of outlooks one can pick to use when contemplating life. Factors such as religion, upbringing, motivation, personality all came up as valid components...and then I mentioned death. What role does death play in this whole LIFE thing you may ask. It is the end of all the fun, the final curtain call, el fin. Scary right? Contemplating this over in my half shaved head I really enjoy hearing how a person views death because I can infer a lot about them through their thought process. I mean, personally, I don't really have a problem with it because lets face it people, it is the one thing that will for sure happen to each and every one of us and our loved ones. That is not to say that it is not a sad event or one that should be avoided (wear your seatbelt) but even if the even that causes the death is surprising, the idea of death should certainly not be.

My dear friend Jeremy and I started this "game" that I also ask people to play with me when I am trying to understand their "essence" and to this date it has spawned really creative and telling results. You set this up for someone, and let them at it "Imagine that a picture was taken of you at any point in your life that captures you at your most shining moment, in a sense it captures your essense/soul/personality at a point in your life you feel the most "you"...explain what i would see in that picture" sometimes it take a little prying and prodding to get the person to respond but many have surprised themselves and me with their answers. Here is a sample of real answers:
- walking into the house from a day of being a doctor to an excited bundle of children and wife to have a family dinner
-standing on top of a Mexican Indian ruin with mom, doing the rocky pose
-a three pact picture of wild youth, laughing with family, and then an adventurous retirement
-nothing (we are working on this one...)
-watching with spouse as the youngest child graduates college
Here is mine: I am walking through the bazar in Morocco, holding my youngest baby in my right hand, with my left I am holding on to my second youngest and pointing things out at the same time, there are two others running ahead and laughing. There is a certain radient glow from the sun that makes our various skin colors extra tan and a flirtacious warm breeze ruffles my long flowy dress and tangles the different textures of hair the group provides. We are walking along and enjoying the day and window shopping, not purchasing anything, just admiring the various gadgets, fruits and tapestries on sale. Surprise twist: there is no man walking with me in the picture.hmm

So I think the next game I will play will be asking people- "What are your thoughts on death?" I hope to again gain deeper knowledge about the characters around me as they answer this question. I already know my answer, but don't want to give it away quite yet. :)

The hair that is here.

It is a peculiar thing, a girl's hair. Many of us swear by a shampoo, are mortifyingly loyal to our stylists and have developed a daily routine that includes elaborate styling equipment as well as many cute jars of product. So it is no surprise that the way hair looks can tell you a lot about the girl sporting it. For a long time I had little choice about how my hair looked. My mom would just braid it and send me off to school. I would get one haircut a year, which basically consisted of my mom taking a pair of scissors and snipping off half of the braid. Lovely.
At fifteen I was able to get my first professional haircut. I made up for lost time by charging up 150 dollars worth of highlights, the cut and deep conditioning. That was the end of my professional haircuts for a while and I resorted to my beloved Colorsilk hair dye for 2.99 at Target. It was a lovely, changing my appearance on a monthly basis just by plopping on a little dye and waiting 30 minutes. I began to experiment with different colors and my long red locks became somewhat of a trademark, an illustration of my personality.
The length of hair is also a telling factor, long hair is representative of beauty while short hair gives the girl a little extra sass. I have for too long subscribed to the idea that in order to look my best, be the most attractive I have to sport a long thick mane of multi-tonal hair. Short hair is cute, fun for the summer, but every girl covets the look of long long locks being splashed back from her face by the playful summer wind. The internalization of such standards of beauty is what caused me to be mortified and balling my hands into fists of rage when an ex-boyfriend accidentally cut my hair to a painfully short length. It was even with my ears, and highly unattractive as far as I was concerned. I hate to put it in writing but the real reason that I was so aghast when I saw the damage was that I had a picture perfect scenario, a wedding scene, in which i come down from a balcony with lusciously wavy strands of hair flowing far down my back. That insane picture, the image of my assumed "wedding perfection bliss" was no longer possible for many years after that hair cut. It upset me so much for some reason that if I had wanted to, I would not be able to get married in that way for at least 4 years. I had lost hope of being a perfect and beautiful bride.
So recently, I have been thinking about my hair and how it portrays me as a person. Incidentally, my hair was finally at a length where it could be manipulated back into that picture of wedding perfection. However, as my hair had grown out during the last 4 years, I had also outgrown that idea of perfection. Thankfully I no longer let hair length for a phantom future wedding dictate the choices I make with it now. It seems almost laughable that I was planning out my wedding hair instead of planning out my next 5 years in terms of career, location and financial stability. But that is how young and naive I was in college. What mattered then- friends, fun, freedom are still valued today, but the basis for their quantifiable measurement has changed drastically. I measure quality of friendships by how much they push me to grow as a person and how much they inspire me to be more than I am today. Fun can mean partying, but it can also mean painting together, cooking dinner, taking a walk, more wholesome things. Freedom- well, instead of wanting to rebel and fight off every piece of advice from parents I seek it and listen thoroughly, realizing the value behind the words of wisdom and travel, true world travel is now the epitome of a freeing experience.
But I digress, back to hair, before my recent haircut I was contemplating shaving a part of my head. I had toyed with the idea for a few months before truly settling on the idea. After all, when else in life will I be able to sport a half-shaved head. Why wait when you can do it now. Respice Finem, live in the moment. So I tossed all hesitation and doubt aside in the same corner that I threw away my traditional concepts of beauty and went for it. I LOVE it. It was such a liberating experience, the feel of freshly buzzed hair, looking at the incredibly long strands that littered the floor like wounded battle soldiers and seeing myself in a new and more exposed light was thrilling. I could not help but think of that wedding hair image that I had in my mind, it will take many years now to achieve that look. That is probably a good thing. If I let go of those expectations, the need to find someone, the need to settle, the need to conform to the average, the standards no longer apply to me. I am now free.
The repercussions of the haircut- well, I scared some of my students. Some probably think that I am a lesbian, and many told me it looked strange and ugly. Had I been any less confident in my choice I would have taken their comments to heart. But I realize that my new haircut just rocked their perception of male and female stereotypes. I can't wait to see what my mom thinks of it. All in all, I am very happy with the decision, infact, I want more cut off. It is a adrenaline rush to hear those buzzing clippers coming at me, knowing that whatever I look like will not change who I am a person. The outside me may look different, and perhaps be treated differently to a degree, but as a new chapter in my life begins I am excited to show a new face to the world.

I hope you figure out that YOU are the crazy bitch screaming in the bar that I ask for attention.

I was recently taken aback by someone's unfavorable description of me, loudly and poignantly stated in front of numerous co-workers at an end of year celebration in a bar. Now that I have set the scene for the first conflict I have had with another girl since probably the beginning of high school, I must share a poem that I wrote about the incident:

Is there truth in your lies?
Why is it me you despise?

What could I possibly have done
To invoke a rage that would blister the sun

Your venomous words and the poison you spew
are a clear and direct reflection of you

NO one intends to cause so much stress and pain
Unless they have something valuable to gain

What is it you want then...you deepest desire?
I hope it was worth setting our friendship on fire

You can flush any apologies down the shitter
I no longer want to act as your emotional babysitter

There is nothing to salvage, no relationship to maintain
The energies of these two years have been lost in vain

The funny thing is you do this to yourself
You dig a hole, jump in, and then cry for help

I wish you the best as you move on to the rest
But my happiness, joy and fun you will no longer repress

And now I shall go camping in Sedona and have a wicked good time. Peace out. Happy Memorial Day.

to reap no reward, see no seed flower bloom

Hypothetical question. You are renting a house and it has a garden. The garden is very visually stimulating. It is unique in look and the flowers give off a particularly pleasing smell. You have enjoyed starring out at this garden while you have lived in the house and have grown rather fond of all it's splendor. Taking care of the garden is no easy task but you do the best you can. Of course you were not always sure of what to do with the garden. Watering the plans is a chore, one week you watered far far far too much and the entire garden is almost ruined. One day, your landlord calls and says that you have to move out, you have a few short weeks left on your lease and then someone else will take over. This is not surprising news, you were after all really looking forward to moving and you yourself decided to not sign the lease again. But now what to do about the garden? You will certainly miss peaceful strolls, listening to the birds chirping and touching the lavender petals that are covered in morning dew. But it's not like there are no other gardens out there. Maybe other gardens are easier to maintain, not such a hassle to hoe down from their overgrowing weeds and problematic roots. There will be more exotic gardens and very standard ones, it would be nice to continue exploring those exiting environments. So what do you do with the garden that you have now? Knowing that you are leaving makes it easy to just let it run itself, let the weeds creep up over the sidewalk and the flowers shiver up into a crunchy remnant of the beauty they once commanded. Does it make sense to continue nourishing the earth that it grows from, water and prune the plants if in the near future you will not have the pleasure of enjoying the view you create? Do you continue to put forth effort for your garden if you will not reap the rewards of your labor? Or do you continue to give love or do you place your energies and efforts elsewhere?

Like a Vulcan, angry for the very first time (sing to the tune of Madonna's Virgin)

Star Date 13.9 May 2010

This is Captain's blog from Olenka Enterprise. She is a 23 year old ship that has set sail on a two year mission to leave the college life as we know it, explore strange new worlds in the Glendale part of the Arizona galaxy, tame wild civilizations between the ages of 10 and 14 and boldly go where no Ukrainian has gone before- A late night ASU class. Luckily, our journey aboard this starcraft is nearly over. We have encountered many challenges during this time in the vastness of space and doubt but tomorrow, (with the entire fleet still intact) we will have a moment of celebration as we land back safely on the familiar confines of planet Graduation. It is indeed a comforting feeling to know that in the next twenty four hours another chapter can be closed for this battleship as she docks in the ASU auditorium port and we proudly march in line to get our victory diplomas. Friends and families will be there to cheer us in victory and we will laugh at the once scary tales of research papers and five step ELD lesson plans. As captain I must preside over the proceedings and reflecting over the last two years I have decided to give an informal account of the struggles that this ship faced. Realizing how many times we had gone into battle, when the shields have been down and enemy vessels attacking our transportation bay I know that it has been only through luck, hard work and an amazing crew that we have made it this far.
Thanks are definitely in order.

Though this is no Oscar worthy speech, there are words of great gratitude that need to be relayed because without the ensigns and copilots and engineering staff, hell, without the entire crew this ship would have been down and out for the count a long time ago.

First, typical, I must thank my parents. They are solid. They have weathered photon rays (in the form of piercings) and grumpiness as well as ill health on the part of the Captain (common job hazard- germy aliens!) and have never failed to take over the deck or even visit captain's quarters when needed. Their unwavering stance in the line of fire has earned them purple hearts. Thank you for pushing me at the speed of warp five so I will one day arrive at the destination of destiny and fulfillment.

There has not been a sustainable or consistent sub-commander during these two years of journey. I appreciate all those who's applications I have reviewed but it seems like this ship needs no right hand man.The interview process was most certainly enjoyed with many of you and there did seem to be some potential in certain cases, however, I regret to inform you, no one has made the cut. That is not to say that there have not been lessons learned, mountains climbed and barriers overcome thanks to your brief stay in the Captain's quarters. In the end, there seem to be far too many flaws in the co-pilot system- the course may be plotted incorrectly or the Captain may be too emotionally involved in the mission to make positive choices for the crew and there just isn't enough time to train you properly for all of the duties you have to perform. So for now, and possibly for the remained of my time as Captain, I choose to fly alone.


Crew- Friends, Teachers, People I have interacted with at any point in time, you have all shared with me a beautiful part of yourself and I truly appreciate the interactions, conversations and smiles we have been able to exchange. Some I rarely see because they are working far below the deck, others are in my line of sight from dawn till night because we work the same shifts on the bridge. I have only become a better Captain and more capable of steering my vessel because you have chosen to give me a part of your time, intellect and positive energy. For all the hard work you have done for this mission, I salute you.

Aliens- You crazy wild creatures with exceptionalities like I have never seen before my voyage into space. It has been a true challenge to learn how you communicate, give peace offerings and try to instill in your stellar souls some of the knowledge I have brought from my planet. Some of the species I have encountered during my time have been hostile. They are also my favorite subjects. Unhoned aliens you must know that this journey of discovery has been all for your benefit. Hopefully you have now a piece of information that will help you further your technology, expand your career options and increase your lifespan. I have grown deeply invested in your civilizations and hope the the progress continues exponentially as I set my coordinates for another galaxy. Studying you has brought on stress but also stretched my boundaries as a person. You have been as much of a teacher to me as I have tried to be for you. Dearly beloved aliens- live long and prosper.

Roomie- thank you for putting up with my high tolerance for dirt and mess, and for listening to me while I let off steam after a long day on the bridge. You are a remarkable archeologist and I am glad that the dig sight you have discovered your second year has brought so much understanding about alien life into our humble home. You are the reason that sesame seed oil brings me thoughts of comfort and joy. Continue to do work on the alien planets with the same enthusiasm and tackle life challenges with the same brilliant mentality that has brought you to this point. <3

Dreamteam- It is only fitting to mention the special operatives that I have been training for the past two months. You are a ruthless bunch and I love you for it. Coaching you has been simply- awesome. I have never felt so influential and relied upon and I loved how hard you worked, and how much you were able to achieve. The lesson I learned, better late than never, was something that the dictators back on TFA have been saying all along- set the bar high. Motivate. and you WILL ACHIEVE. I want to adopt every last one of you when I am done with the high stakes galaxy exploring game.



I know tomorrow will be a good day because I have a perfectly ripe mango waiting for me in the holodeck. Goodnight.

Dreamteam Domination.

Well, it is Thursday evening, as our regularly scheduled programming dictates, I must blog. Since I just got home after a busy 13 hours of work, GEO, Softball and socializing this post will be short, but very very sweet. :)

I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to coach the 5/6 softball team. Today they kicked some very serious ass. The score: 20-1 does not even give justice to the power of confidence and positive attitude (we prayed as a team before the game) that has overtaken us as we entered our first elimination round. The boys were pumped yet focused and watching them all squat(there is not a word more graceful) into perfect stances as the captain called them to "Ready position" nearly brought me to tears of joy. Nearly, but not quite, since I was still "coach" enough to shout at them that their complaining during wall sits was now transformed into amazing back posture and a seriously fierce looking team.

I must also gush about the hitting. EVERY SINGLE PLAYER hit BEYOND expectation. And let me just say that Ms. Russo and I set the bar pretty high. Once the battle of the bats has started, there really was no way to put out their little fires. The pitcher, who in the past has struggled with hitting did an amazing drive through the shortstop and brought in the loaded bases. I don't think I stopped screaming or jumping up and down until the whole bench was done congratulating him on his grand slam. I only wish that his amazingly supportive dad would have been able to see it.

Overall, the event had all the parents on their feet shouting words of praise at their respective children as they dominated. The end of the game, a slight relief and even more excitement that we moved on in the playoffs was topped with watching the families clear the field. Some guided younger siblings though the crowds, others (these are 6th grade boys may I remind you) were holding hands with grandma as she berated them with Spanish love. The adorable parents hugging their adorable children. At that moment, they were not behavior problems as school, they were not failing math and they were not having fights on the playground, everything was happy and nothing hurt (stolen from Kurt Vonnegut). And that is how all softball games should end, everyone walking off the field and feeling like a fucking champion.