Friday, July 22, 2011

I Am My Hair

"I'm not a freak, I'm just here fighting to stay cool on the streets".

This one time I bought the Born This Way album by one of my favorite people of all time, Lady Gaga. I heard this song "Hair" and at first I was like, this is the stupidest song I have ever heard in my life. Don't get me wrong, I love LOVE Lady Gaga. She is definitely one of the best performers in history, but she can be a little on the strange side. Usually when I buy a CD, I have to listen to it a few times before I get into it. One morning on the way to work, I really got into it and even got a bit emotional because of this song's theme (also it was a certain time when I get extra frail in the emotional department) and cried to this song. It's so good, one of my favorites on Born This Way. You can hear her perform the shit out of it live here - click the link, CLICK IT.

Click!!
 You can read the lyrics here, so you can get the full meaning out of this awesome song.

So anyway, I can relate a lot to this song. Maybe not so much right NOW but growing up - OH YEAH. Mostly because I was bald for most of my life, but also because I didn't have it all that easy. My parent's never put up a fight and my mom never did cut my hair at night. I never really did anything all that radical with my appearance. I think the absolute worst of it was when I dyed half of my hair blue-black (which actually looked totally radical, by the way). Also, I went through this phase in middle school where all I wanted were Jnco Jeans (BUT I only had one pair because we were so poor and couldn't afford anything, which means I got to wear them for a total of 4 months while I could fit in them before I grew another 11 inches). I wanted these jeans because 
a. I had a crush on the shortest guy in school who also happened to be really into skating

b. Gwen Stefani used to wear big baggy jeans and I loved her so hard and wished every day I could be as cool as her.

I wasn't too much of a rebel at all, so my parents and I got along just swell. Now, I'm going to say a lot of things in this post that is going to make me sound like an asshole. But, don't worry I'll come back around. Just stick it out. PS I'm not sorry for sounding like an asshole because I probably am.

Maybe I would have been more of a fashion rebel, but I think it's kind of impossible when you can only afford a wardrobe consisting of whatever we could find at Wal Mart or Factory-2-U. Which, by the way for a long time I was completely mortified by the fact that I had to shop there for clothes when everyone else could afford going to Tucson to go to the mall. I remember dreading doing the "walk of shame" from the car to the store, praying that no one that knew me saw me walking into F2U. Now, I couldn't care less and shop at Twice As Nice sometimes and stuff.

Anyway, there was a lot of stuff I was embarrassed about when I was younger, probably when I was like a junior in high school and younger.

Obviously, I was embarrassed about not having as much money as everyone else. I grew up in Cloud 9 Mobile Home Park. I tried to find a picture of it, but couldn't. So the best I can do is link to C9's Facebook page. Immediately after I write this blog I'm going to go "Like" it (then later I will get a picture in real life to post to the FB page). I was embarrassed about living there. I hated the fact that I lived in a trailer park and people that I wanted to be friends with didn't. I was ashamed to tell anyone where I lived, and hardly any people ever came over. I'd say probably a handful of people knew this about me when I was growing up, and once I got brave and invited the entire Peer Support Group to my house for the main course of a progressive dinner. Of course the food was awesome, but there were a lot of girls looking at each other like "omg, what are we doing here".

My heart would skip a beat every time someone would ask "Where do you live?" and I would say something stupid like, "oh in the neighborhood next to PDS". Which, was true, however I could have just said "Cloud 9" the whole time and people would have known what I meant. When I drove out of the neighborhood to go to school, I prayed that no one would see me do the "pull out of shame" from my neighborhood. Once I thought (and probably did) I saw the guy I was in love with my entire high school career drive by as I was pulling out of Cloud 9 (the back way of course because I was too scared to drive out of the main entrance) and I thought I was going to cry and contemplated not going to school that day. A lot of times I wished that the city would decide to bulldoze that eye sore and replace it with a beautiful neighborhood and just GIVE all the tenants a new house to live in for the inconvenience of having their trailer destroyed. I was really embarrassed about living in Cloud 9. I tried to tell people "it's not a trailer, it's a manufactured home!" but to them it was all the same because they were assholes.

Until I was 8 we lived in a two bedroom trailer that my dad had built another bedroom onto the porch that my brothers stayed in. When my dad's aunt passed away, he got some money and decided to upgrade to the manufactured home and put it RIGHT NEXT DOOR to the two bedroom trailer we lived in previously. I remember seeing the new house and thinking it was the most beautiful, hugest thing I'd ever seen in my life. It's a 4 bedroom, 2 bath house that at the time felt like a mansion. I got to sleep in an actual bed (I had been sleeping on a small couch in my parent's bedroom before that) in a room I shared with my sister Veronica. I thought we were rich, until I got a little older and realized that I was living in a trailer park.

I was also embarrassed about my parents. My mom was 43 when she gave birth to me. Now, this MAY be a bit shocking to you, but I was an accident. I came exactly 5 years after my brother Kenny. My mom had an IUD before me, and when it's time expired and she had to take it out (that sounds gross) she thought she was too old to have a kid. Surprise! There I was. I was embarrassed because my parents were a LOT older than all of the other parents I knew. My mom was constantly mistaken for my grandmother, and stupidly enough sometimes my sister Jess was confused as my mom. Sometimes if people at school asked about my "grandma" I didn't correct them. My dad was also pretty overweight, and by overweight I mean he was fat, and I was embarrassed about that too. Especially because he did this kind of waddle walk and was just an overall embarrassing person. He would always do the whole "pull my finger" thing (and still does) and make really annoying obnoxious sounds everywhere. He also had this habit of smacking us upside the head no matter where we were if we did or said something he didn't like. Even though I got along fine with my parents, sometimes, actually I always preferred never to be seen with them in public.

I was embarrassed about where I lived, my parents, and mostly with myself. I was a pretty awkward kid. I was always the tallest kid in class up until about my sophomore year in high school. I was extremely gangly, lanky, and clumsy. My clothes hardly ever fit (because I outgrew them faster than my parents were able to afford getting me new ones). I had really bad acne, two terrible snaggle teeth, and plucked my eyebrows waaaay too thin. I was also kind of socially awkward. I am a very sarcastic person, and not everyone liked that, or got it. Middle school was especially rough. We moved to Tucson for about a year, which not only killed a lot of the friendships I started to develop, but when I went back to Apache Middle School, I was the new girl that was too sarcastic. I ended up getting in trouble with the "mean girls" at the school, and the three of them all threatened to beat me up. (Only two of them were pretty though. The other one looks like Beavis) They constantly harassed me and before long, there was only one person in school that actually stuck by me. My sister Jess even called them at one point - I remember it very clearly. We called Brianna from a payphone at Wal Mart, and Jess said she was an eighth grader keeping an eye on me and if they didn't leave me alone, THEY'D be the one's getting beat up. It wasn't soon before long, everyone in school knew who I was - I was the girl that the 3 mean ones wanted to beat up but was too scared to. When Amy wasn't at school, I'd hide in the bathroom during lunch and walk really fast to all of my classes, trying to avoid any human contact.  I think my parents got involved because the teasing got to be too much and I really was scared that I was going to get pulverized to a pulp. They called the principal who talked to the three girls and after that they left me alone. The whole thing kind of fizzled down, and by the time 8th grade came around, I had made a few more friends and it wasn't too bad.

Then high school came. High school wasn't so bad. I hated my freshman year, because again, I didn't have many friends and had really low self esteem. Luckily, I got braces (that I got off right before junior year) so it was kind of like I was a work in progress. I was pretty lonely, especially after a falling out with my then best friend. Another thing that also really sucked about moving up to high school was that a lot of focus was put on dating - and this is going to be a huge shocker to you too considering the tone of this blog - NO ONE ever liked me. Ever.

Ok I take that back. There were two guys that told me they liked me. The first was a guy named Steve. Impressively, he was a senior. That's the only thing impressive about him. He had a hunchback (no I am NOT exaggerating) and teeth more crooked than mine. He was also really creepy and stalked me around school - waiting around my locker (so much that I stopped going to it and just lugged 100 pounds worth of books around with me everywhere). So now you're probably thinking well beggars can't be choosers but I'll have you know, even THIS beggar has standards, ok? The second guy was [impressively] a football playing sophomore on the varsity football team. Again, that's the only thing he had going for him. He was extremely overweight and far too hairy for a high schooler. He also confessed to me that he masturbated to the thought of me. And it wasn't like, a sweet, flattering masturbation comment. He said he filled up Ziplock bags with lotion, placed them in between the couch cushions, then fucked the ever living shit out of it. He asked me to Homecoming. I said no. Oh, there's also one guy I forgot to mention, but I will have you know I am NOT making fun of him. I was in National Honor Society (aka club for nerds) and we did this thing called C.A.N.T.E.R. which was a therapeutic program for the special needs kids - NHS kids helped the special needs kids ride horses. One of them had a crush on me,  I can't remember his name now but he was in a wheelchair due to cerebral palsy. Every fiber in my body wished he wasn't sick.

Aaaaaaaaaaaanyway... I had no luck in the guy department. It seemed as though every guy only saw me as a friend - and that was only a friend in class. I felt like the guys who paid attention to me while we were in class didn't even look my way twice when we were out in the hallways, or at lunch, or in public. I didn't get it. These guys would have really deep conversations (or as deep as it gets in high school I guess) with me and a lot of times I felt like maybe MAYBE they liked me too, but in the end, nothing ever happened. With anyone. Ever. I never had a boyfriend in high school that went to Buena. Aside from Baggy Fucker, I was NEVER asked to a dance, or out on a date. I really thought there was something wrong with me. I even have these really sad, pathetic diary entries from back then that sound a lot like Mary Catherine Gallagher, who wished and prayed every night to have a real movie - like kiss. Things had to get worse before they got better. I played basketball my freshman year, and in mine opinion, I think I was pretty good. I was really super fast (you wouldn't believe me if I told you, but, I could run like the wind blows) and a good power forward. Well, as fate would have it, I busted my left knee. Completely tore out my PCL and tore all kinds of other junk in there I don't remember. For some crazy reason (I am pretty sure it was all the Trading Spaces episodes I used to watch and the host Paige's short hair that influenced this terrible decision) I decided to cut my hair really really really short, like boy short.

Picture this: I was in a knee immobilizer for about 8 months, I had an ugly mullet thing growing out on my head, I had braces, and was overall a big douchey nerd that had to ride the GD elevator to the second floor. I was a totall fucking mess, and I don't wonder not one bit about why no guy liked me my sophomore year. BUT things started to get a little better through that year. My knee healed enough for me to get out of that godforsaken brace and I could walk halfway decently again, I got my braces off, and my hair grew out to a socially acceptable length. By junior year, my friend Rosalyn introduced me to a guy who wasn't from my school and BOOM my first boyfriend. Finally, by the ripe age of almost 18 I had my first tongue kiss. And, it was the most disgusting slimy spitty experience of fat tongue in my life. We didn't last long, but finally, I was no longer as big of a loser as I previously thought.

By the time I was a senior, I had become more comfortable with myself, made some genuine friends, like Aidalys and Rosalyn. (Actually, Aidalys and I became friends in middle school, after she realized that my life was a horrible mess and we could relate to each other). I had started to care less and less about what people at school thought about me, because I realized that I didn't want to be like most of the assholes there. All of the popular girls (I shouldn't say all but MOST) were just cum dumpsters with absolutely nothing going on in their heads and felt it necessary to be mean to girls like me and Aidalys because they were dead on the inside and needed to feel some kind of power or worth after the years and years of turning into the spoiled pieces of shit they then were. Hopefully they have grown up since then. I realized that there were guys outside of high school and I realized that if I was just myself, the right one would come along eventually. I didn't care anymore that my parents were old or fat or the fact that I lived in a trailer. Those things no longer defined me, and if people were stupid enough not to like me because of those reasons, then that was their fault, not mine.


Then, the real world came, and nothing about who I was in middle or high school mattered AT ALL anymore. Not any of it. Now that I am where I am today, I look back at all of the things I had to go through and learn, I realize how THANKFUL I am for it all. This is just a teeny tiny eensy weensy bit of what all actually happened as I was growing up, but now I know that every experience was a lesson. I had a very happy childhood, until society got into my head and started skewing that happiness. I didn't know I was poor until it was pointed out to me. I didn't know I was ugly until it was pointed out to me. I would never wish for a life different than mine because it has made me into who I am today. And, I like me.


The Best Parents in the World

I love my parents dearly and never will I be embarrassed about them ever again. I'm glad I grew up in the neighborhood I did, and I'm glad that I didn't have it easy and that I wasn't a spoiled brat growing up. I would never want to be the kind of person that feels entitled to anything, and know from the example of my parents and siblings that you have to work, and work hard and honestly to get what you need in life. Underacheivers who want something for nothing are scum of the earth in my opinion. I have very few friends, but they are real friends and I wouldn't trade them for 100 "popular" friends for anything. They stuck by me even when they knew what a "loser" I was, and for that I am forever indebted to them. You know who you are, thank you for everything you have done for me and for being who you are. Finally, I was myself and the right guy came along eventually. I can be myself with him and I am not embarrassed about any of it. I am still the dorky, clumsy person I was ten years ago, and he loves me for it. I still have my imperfections, but he takes me as I am. I would not trade him for ALL five of my top five celebrities I'd like to fuck. There's some really good ones in that list too.

I guess these are a lot of the reasons why I like "Hair" so much. It's all about wishing you were "good enough" for someone else - a guy, cool friends, society whatever. But in the end, you are who you are. I have come to love myself for who I am and I appreciate others who feel the same way about me. If you don't, I harbor no bad feelings for you because you don't know me. Otherwise, you would love me too. I AM MY HAIR

Ok I'm going to go cry again now.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Dreams You'd Like to Sell

Sometimes I have really vivid dreams. Well, most of the time actually, but sometimes I remember them really well. I had this idea of turning my dreams into children's books, and sometimes they would be a good children's book, then other times it would turn out to be a big incoherent mess that everyone in the room is now dumber for having listened to that and may God have mercy on my soul.


The other night, I happened to have one of those crazy dreams that didn't make no sense, and I was lucky enough to remember it in the morning. I even told my domestic partner about it, and I think he really contemplated breaking up with me after that. I'll share the dream with you here, or as much of it as I can remember.

It started out - my domestic partner asked if I wanted to go golfing with him (he is an avid golfer and could probably qualify for the US Open or something, or maybe that's the tennis one, idk) so I agreed. So we got to the golf course and instead of it being a golf course, it was more like one of those big green courtyard with Italian Cypress trees everywhere and big hedged bushes like the ones in mazes. Imagine: Gwen Stefani's What You Waiting For music video.

I wondered how the heck we were going to play golf when there was no course and no holes and no golf carts or anything. Then, we got to this big brown run down barn and inside were a bunch of rounded stones with flat tops configured like little mazes, and my domestic partner said "You're going to move your ass!" and I had to run though all the mazes until he said it's ok to stop. Well, there was a race set up, and bleachers to watch the race, so my domestic partner said I can stop so we could watch it. All of the cars were these lime green drag cars that are really big, and inside the drag cars were tiny little Honda Civics inside. The drivers were my nephews Brett, Kian, Johnny, and Parker. The only thing I could think of was WHY ARE THEY DRIVING? THEY ARE JUST BABIES!! But my entire family was there watching. My friend Annie was also there, and both of my brothers were sitting awkwardly close to her and hitting on her. That's the last I remember about the race.

The next thing I knew, my sister Jess and I were walking through a neighborhood. It must have been on a hill or something, because the houses on the streets were on top of each other, and the streets we were windy and curvy. The further we walked, there was more and more stuff in the way, like really dry, dead tree branches that we had to push out of the way. We noticed that every house had a different kind of dog, so we stopped at each yard to see. One yard had a tiny little baby woolly mammoth, but it didn't have tusks, so it looked like a tiny Snuffaluffagus the size of a baby pig.

Instead of it being cute and cuddly like it looked, it bared vicious teeth and tried attacking Jess like a rabid animal. We got scared and ran the heck out of there. We ended up in this crazy mad house maze, with stairs like escalators that we could never get to the top of. All of the walls were painted really bright colors, like purple, orange, bright pink, lime green, blue, etc. There were also mirrors on the walls and people walking around like zombies. Some of the people had animal faces. I saw a giraffe man, a pig man, and a chick with a bird face. While we were trying to find our way through this crazy place, I realized I was dreaming. The instant I realized that, every one's faces turned towards me and my sister, and became covered in tissue paper.

It was very Inception-y. All of the dream people immediately came after us, and we remembered we were on a mission. Our mission was to recover a box of body parts. So we continue to make our way through the crazy maze building, and end up outside on the streets in the night time. Three men in suits were running away from us, and then we knew they had the box of body parts we needed. We chased them on foot, and they ran right into the middle of an intersection, where three cars crashed. They tried to car jack one of them, and that's when me and Jess caught up to them. As the men were getting into the car to make their get away, we pulled out our guns and shot the three guys dead. We recovered the box! Then I had to pee so I woke up...

The end.