Mental Preparation


I believe that I’m beautiful, that I’m intelligent, I believe that people can like me. I also believe that when I like someone, I drive them away. Zach, Jacob (not dietz, the one with the curly hair from San Francisco) I liked both of them from the moment I laid eyes on them. I didn’t just like them, I was obsessed with something about them. I don’t know what it is, but they both  possess something similar that draws me to them like no one else has. Is that attraction? Is that what Sam and Cadence were missing?

I don’t know how to control myself around people who I’m attracted to.. I always feel so good, I feel like they must feel the same way toward me. But then I realize something, it’s the smallest thing at first, a short message or something they say – I doubt. But I continue, assuming I’m reading into it too much. He’s into me. Obviously. Then they take awhile to respond and I’m eagerly awaiting their replies. Thirty minutes. An hour. Two hours. twenty-three. I send another message just in case they didn’t know  how to continue the conversation. thirty minutes. an hour.. I’m crushed. It’s not as bad as before, but I doubt myself: my personality, the way I dress, how I communicate, my body, the way I take selfies, was I too ambitious..? What did I do this time to push away the ones I’m attracted to?

I’m mentally preparing myself for tomorrow morning when I wake up and there’s still no text. No snapchat. There will be nothing except the possible snapchat from Leslie or Justin or Katie. A facebook memory. No Ribbon in bed next to me. No Kendra in the top bunk. I’ll be alone. Sam will be there, but we don’t communicate well when one of us is distressed.

I really thought Jacob was into me. We got along, he asked questions, he loved my eyes. What changed? I pushed too hard, was too possessive, I must have been overbearing, sent too many texts before he replied. I must have been too eager, had too much passion, or maybe I overshared, maybe I was too real and talked about things that hurt too much. He didn’t open up to me like I did to him. Did I not ask enough questions about him? Am I too annoying? I must be too annoying.

I talk too much. I’m too selfish.

He isn’t responding. He must not be interested in me. I must not be interesting.



beautiful, Beauty, Blame, Domestic Violence, Family, feminism, fuck you, Her, Hope, Journal, Love, Memories, Peace, Personal, Small Things, Smiling

There are two things wrong today.. I’ll start with the one that won’t matter in the distant future, and follow with the one that is more important.

I got a bad haircut. Well.. actually. There’s more to it than just that. I cut my own hair and wildy missed the mark. I fucked up bad. So I went to a local salon and they fixed it. The problem is – I hate what they did. I liked it when I left the salon. It was new. It was short. It was sassy and I was channeling my inner Khloe Kardashian. But then I got home and I showered, and I got out of the tub and looked in the mirror. It was different. The buzz I’d gotten was gone and I was left with a huge mistake that won’t grow back for a good two years probably. It’s fuzzy and huge, I can’t keep it down. I can’t curl it. I can’t straighten it. I can’t even take good selfies with it… I honestly want to get a pixie cut and forget this ever happened. I want to cry. It all happened because today has been the worst, though. Today was my last full day with my dog, Ronnie.

So, now we come to the real issue. My companion, best friend, guide, loyal pet, one true love, and my self-proclaimed bae who has been with me through all my struggles is getting a new home tomorrow. We’re driving to the Central Valley for my Grandpa’s 89th birthday party at his retirement home, and afterward we’re leaving Ronnie at my grandparents house so they can take her to her new home. It kills me. I don’t want to give her up and I really don’t want to leave her at my grandparents where they treated her so poorly.

She’s going to live with people she’s never met..

I wish I could tell them everything about her.. How she whines about everything, how she will paw at my toes when she’s bored, how she plays with my toes under the blankets when she’s playful, she climbs into bathtubs frequently even though she knows she’s too small to get out on her own, she begs constantly, she ignores her commands even though she had an amazing german trainer, she was abused by many men and now doesn’t trust any of them (especially the ones with facial hair or that wear hats), she snuggles me when I  tell her I love her, how she shoves her tiny wet nose into my knee cap when I blow into her ears because she knows it annoys me. How she peed on my floor the first time I met her and we still kept her because she so frickin adorable that you can’t say no to her little brown eyes and wagging tail (that has been renamed her “Happy Meter”). The way she wails when we put her in her kennel and how it killed us so much, we had to renamed it to her “transporter” for our own piece of mind (it was an ongoing joke that we never let go of). She endured two tweens dressing her up in build-a-bear clothes for four years, the constant changing of her name because it never stopped evolving (Ribbon, Freda, Reesta Skeet Doxin, Pooch, Ribs, Squirt, Reenie, Bibbon, Ronnie, Ronald, Ron, and countless others I’m failing to remember), She was a pop star, a whore, a model and a thousand unimaginable things that two tweens shouldn’t have been make-believing. She had a Dogster page, a youtube channel, a facebook page, a language, many friends (including: Connie, Ginger, Shady, Brendel, Tig, Nala, Dakota, and others), and particularly loved my friend Katie for some reason.

My sister and I got her for Christmas of ’08, she had a big red ribbon around her neck and we spent the rest of the day lounging by the fire with her in a little tan doggie bed. From that day on, she was my baby. She slept in my bed, I bathed her, I fed her scraps secretly, didn’t mind when her breath smelled or when she whimpered, she was mine. I loved her dearly. I remember when we got her name tag, it felt so official having her. I never thought that there would be a day where I would have to give her away, I figured we would have her until she passed away.. But things don’t work out as planned, and now we are having to give her to people who are practically strangers.

I love Ronnie with every fiber of my being, I love every annoying habit she has, I love our relationship and the trust between us. She is my fur baby and I feel like I’m giving away my child.. I’ve had her for eight years and I never thought it would end this way.

Squash Me like a Grape

Blame, equality, forgotten, fuck you, Future, Her, Hope, Humanist, Jealousy, Journal, Memories, no trust, Personal, school

Every time I think about my relationship with Cadence (specifically how it ended), I’m filled with rage. It’s been like four months already, but when I see a status of his on Facebook or see Megan’s friends online, I get angry and frustrated..

It’s different than how I felt about Sam when we broke up – maybe that’s because Cadence broke up with me (I was intending to do it too, but there’s a form of belittlement and shame that goes along with being broken up with that hurts in a different way), or maybe it’s because I doubted his monogamy toward me while we were together.. Or that I question if he ever stopped caring for Megan.

It’s different from Sam because I never questioned if he loved me – he was loyal and good. Cadence, on the other hand.. Things happened that made me question everything I thought I knew when we were together, I thought I could trust him. I told him things I hadn’t told anyone else. I fell asleep in his arms and let myself pour out and made myself trust him because I remember wondering if I could ever trust a man after my father had been so abusive..

So I put myself out there – I trusted him – what did I get in return? Information that he still had feelings for Megan. It killed me. Not because I sincerely liked him, but because I put effort into trusting him and he hurt me, used the things I told him against me.

I was torn apart, what was I supposed to do? I had made myself vulnerable to him, and he took that opportunity to fuck me over.

I don’t want these trust issues. I don’t want to question everyone’s motives when they try to be a part of my life. I don’t want to be this con man who always has to have the upperhand because they’re scared someone will hurt them. I want to be openly vulnerable with my emotions, to be an open book with no secrets.. But I do have secrets, and I guard them with dear life because they are all I have. Those secrets are the only things I have control over once shit hits the fan. They are my security blanket that catch me when I have to jump off a 7 story building that’s on fire. They protect me from the Cadence’s and Art’s..

Just writing this out has helped me immensely. I realized that the anger I was feeling was just a topical emotion – there was a lot under it that meant a lot more.

I’m hurt that I put myself out there and Cadence squashed me like a grape.

Bryan, the Abusive Coward

Blame, Domestic Violence, Family, fuck you, Journal, Love, no trust, Personal

I can’t seem to get away from abusive and anger.. About an hour ago, Bryan kicked my dog.. Remember the one?


The sweet, innocent, little daschund? How can this keep happening to us? To her ? The worst part is that my mom is getting rid of her.. Between the fees, her shitting on the carpet, and now this… We can’t afford another lawsuit.. But I love this dog more than I love anything else and getting rid of her is killing me.. I am really hurt by the fact that my mom is making excuses for another man. Another angry, substance addicted man. I will not forgive Bryan. I will never forgive this. I will never trust him or accept him, and I will make life miserable for that man. He will not be welcome here anymore.

I don’t know when we’re going to be taking her to the farm, but no matter when it is.. I will not be okay with it.

When he kicked her, I pushed him and he held my arms. Tightly.

Earlier this afternoon, he stormed out and went for a drive.. I talked to my mom about how I disapproved of his violent nature.. This only confirms what I said, and she must know that.

But she is making excuses again, and that disturbs me. Will she make excuses for every man who comes her way and hurts her family?

This ended up being about piano?

beautiful, Hope, Journal, Love, Memories, Peace, Personal, Small Things, Smiling

I’ve probably started writing five different posts in this one sitting. I haven’t liked any of them, they didn’t flow, they didn’t work, or half way through I just stopped liking what I had to say.

I can’t find any music that suits my emotions right now.

But I want to write and I want to listen to music.

I miss performing piano in front of large audiences.. I miss the anxiety when the person before me was up, the first step on stage and I have so much adrenaline that it feels like no time is passing, when my fingers press the first keys and I have it so well memorized it’s best to not think at all so I don’t mess myself up, and the finale, when I would take a stand and bow.. The thrill.. I just spent half a year perfecting a piece, and it was performed in under five minutes. The audience doesn’t see the frustrated kid trying to decipher notes or the silly practicing when I finally know the song and change the octave.. They don’t see the tears and screaming when I’m alone and can’t get the timing right, or the lessons that exhaust beyond measure and require a long nap to recover from… The relief and joy when I finally understand a measure after weeks of having trouble with it. The blood, sweat, and tears of being a pianist.

Life Update: Soul Sucking Life

Blame, Domestic Violence, Family, fathers, fuck you, Future, Jealousy, Journal, Memories, Personal, school, Uncategorized

It’s really unfair, we live in a world where people don’t get invited to parties, where old friends forget you, and other people have it a whole lot better.

I figure I must come off as such an angry and jealous person, which I am.. But I see my friends and cousins, acquaintances too, who have parents that are still together, who have lawyers for fathers and BMW’s.. They have their own rooms, and more rooms in their houses than people living in them..

I’ve had that lifestyle before, which is one of the reasons it makes me so angry. I’ve had that. I’ve been able to live and not worry about the household income, where I didn’t have to think twice about every item in our shopping cart because of the price and worrying if we’ll have enough until the next paycheck.

I systematically turn off lights and other electricity-eating things because no one else bothers to and I’m worried that one month we won’t have enough money to pay everything.

Then there are those months where unexpected fees and bills pop up, and this time I’m really worried we won’t have enough for the month. We got an unexpected fee for $750 attached to our rent, which amounted to $2,000 when it was all said and done.

It must be nice to not worry about those things.. It must be nice to live in a loving family. To not have an assload of mental illnesses. To not worry about bills or prices.. To be able to hang out with friends and seamlessly enjoy time with other people.

My mom is quitting her job.. She can’t support all of us, even with a manager’s salary, and they just added a new person to her showroom floor, which means that she’ll be getting paid less. There’s this job that will be more stable, she’ll get a steady $30,000 a year.

On top of all this, I see my friends from my hometown posting pictures of their summer parties and I’m 141 miles away, my life not any better than when I was there. I’m not even doing drivers ed because it’s too expensive.

I feel like I’m asking the world of the people in my life if I ask for even the smallest thing, but I keep their secrets and I cry myself to sleep. I try to keep to myself so I don’t burden them. But now Riley is considering backpacking through Europe with her boyfriend indefinitely and then I’ll be the oldest kid in the house and I won’t have her as my support or as a friend anymore and she is literally my only friend over here. Then I think about the next two years for me.. I’ll be home schooled..  No opportunities to make friends.. I’m going to spend my last years as an adolescent cooped up in a small condo with a toddler unless I make a change.


Blame, forgotten, fuck you, Future, Hope, Jealousy, Journal, Love, Memories, no trust, Personal, Uncategorized

I’ve always wanted to love someone and to be loved back – in first grade, I wondered what it would be like to kiss Max’s lips. In third grade, I started to see some issues with love surface that I’m still dealing with. Tristan was an ugly boy, he was a dumb boy, he was even poor.. But he was funny, and I liked him. Of course, I didn’t know I liked him. He made me so angry. I would have told you I hated him if you had asked. One time, I did this really stupid thing because he was making me so angry.. I wrote an insult on his table with my pencil.. I meant to erase it after he saw it, but I forgot and later both Tristan and I got pulled out of class to see the teacher because of it.

The point is, when there are feelings between a person and I, my gut reaction is
to be repulsed. To ruin it. To run and hide because.. no.

I wish I could understand this, because I desperately want to be in love and in a happy, functioning relationship where both parties are pleased with what’s happening and where it is going. But often times, I get in the way of that.. I sabotage it. There’s this gut instinct to ruin anything happy I might’ve had..

I mean, there is always the argument that I’ve possibly never been in a relationship that I was happy with. Never been with someone I could see myself with long term.. Maybe I just haven’t been in a relationship with someone I would want to be in a relationship with..

I’m just scared that the latter is not the case.. That I have been with someone where things could have worked out and I ruined it with my instinctual need to fuck up relationships..

Now, I am lucky that I have realized this because so far, I’ve only been in relationships that were not serious. They were high school, silly, makeout relationships. If they had been serious, long term ones.. Things would be more concerning.




I’m poor. My family is poor. I only have savings that I set aside myself, my mom can’t pay for my college, and after a game of monopoly I’ve started seeing the world a completely different way. Three people can start the game with the same amount of money – they can all make thoughtful moves, but two can end up bankrupt while the third person is swimming in cash and has hotels on all their lands.

I lost faith in my future.. Where once I had thought that I could go out and make a name for myself, I’m wondering if those dreams are possible for anyone. Let alone me.. My mom works full time, and she’s the best at her job.. But she isn’t making enough to rent a two bedroom condo, when she needs a house to fit her family of five (who have regular visitors, so we might as well say 6+). My mom is considering looking for another job, which is nearly impossible since she’s working full time already. But it is how it is, and we aren’t making enough to support all of us. Bryan really needs a job, and fast. Fuck.. I even need to get a job, just so that I can be a social person and do things.

What am I supposed to do when I graduate high school? College doesn’t guarantee a job, and racking up student debt is a terrible idea if I can’t make enough money to pay it off. I like to think that I am doing everything I can to educate myself on what my future entails as an adult. I’m going to learn how to do my taxes, vote, drive, and do the things I need to be a good citizen.. But how can I be expected to do all these things? How can I be expected to get a job that allows me to pay for rent, utilities, taxes, groceries, gas, and all the debt I’m going to have from buying a car and going to college? How am I going to maintain a full time job alongside going to college?

I’m not a magician, I can’t pull money out of thin air or juggle all those expenses while trying to make something of myself..

All of a sudden, all of my big dreams and fanciful ideas feel naive and unobtainable. I will likely never be a CEO of some major business in New York, New York. I will probably never own a luxurious apartment in the Upper East Side or even a Birkin for that matter.. I’ll probably end up back in The Valley and doing some sad and uninspiring job that sucks the life out of me, just to make ends meet. I’ll end up going to community college and at a minimum wage job with kids and a husband I don’t love. I won’t be going to Yale or Harvard, I won’t travel the world in luxury, and I won’t even own a Steinway.

I see where I stand in the world. I understand my place.. There is little chance that I will ever succeed beyond a manager at some department store