December 23, 2012
I’ve been a terrible, lazy blogger as of late. I know. I haven’t even been reading from my favorite bloggies. Truth is, a lot is going on and I do want to share much of it, but I don’t know… Thankfully, I dont have a head full of PLDs (Pretty Little Demons) right now. I still feel better than I was several months ago, despite some terrible days these past two weeks.
I haven’t self-harmed in several weeks, almost two months I think–the last time being a burning incident triggered by booze and thoughts of Monkey Man. So anyway, that’s great that I haven’t! No major suicidal ideations either!
A lot is happening. And well, I want to blog some of it–MUCH of it– but for now, I’m rethinking this whole blog. (yeah, again). And thus, I’ll continue being lazy about it, at least until this White Baby Jesus thing is over with. So here is another one of my very first posts from last year. I was trying to develop my illustration style then (and still am). But here I actually sketched on the computer before it gave up on me in May. Anyway, I think this is a funny one and I hope you think so too.
Hope you all the best!
p.s. I just realized this isn’t the best post to re-blog considering the horror that happened at Sandy Hook Elementary. Being a kid is tough and I can’t even imagine… I got severely triggered by that–I’m talking trigger among triggers– it was bad. And I can only hope those kids who survived and their families/loved ones heal one day. It’s… ugh… I’ll shut up… Please don’t take offence. None was meant. This story is meant mostly to be lighthearted, albeit true and somewhat sad. It’s gotta be at least a little melancholic: I’m the MMM.
There’s always that one elementary school teacher you hear about somewhere, the one that murders her students and their wild but fragile imaginations by telling them Santa is a hoax; that his slaved sweatshop elves and reindeer are also a hoax, AND, that they should go home and shame their parents. I read about such story not too long ago. I can’t blame her. Sometimes the scrooge and Grinch in us comes out.
I’m reminded about the time I tried to tell my third-grade classmates about Santa’s non-existence. It didn’t go so well, obviously.
Firstly, I’m Colombian. And Colombians–at least when I was a kid in the late eighties–don’t celebrate Christmas with Santa Clause. People do put him on Christmas trees, little figurines are sold for decoration, you can hear his bells in shopping plazas, but he’s treated more as an uninvited guest, the bawdy drunken relative–distant relative–you let…
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I’m going to therapy Thursdays now. My dad drove me this time and I met up with the immigration law student while I was up there too. I figured we’d get the paperwork all finished that day because all I needed was a disposition letter from the only other county I’ve lived in besides Houston. It’s to prove I don’t have a criminal record, which would disqualify me for deferred action.
My dad keeps pressuring me so much with that immigration application that I get snappy every time he mentions ANYTHING about it. So I told him that all we were going in for was to give her the $10 check and that she and I would send it off that day.
“Just drop me off and I’ll take care of it,” I said. “No, no. I don’t want you to have to wait because I’ll be a while. It’s ok. I have to go to the admissions office to get my transcript. They’re finally releasing it to me despite the debt… Yeah, yes, Bill Collector Mafia… No papi, esta bien. I’ll go back on the bus. Besides, I’m going to run some errands while I’m here. Check on the writing center see if they’re hiring so I’ll be prepared for when I have my work permit. You know, getting ready for when the time comes.”
It was a white lie. But you know white lies turn up more white lies to cover up themselves. The truth is the immigration packet wouldn’t be sent until Monday or Tuesday (meaning yesterday) since that county doesn’t do disposition letters online and we’d have to wait until they got the check which was what the law student and I REALLY mailed off that day. You still with me?
I didn’t lie about the writing center though. I headed over there and ran into a former peer. “Didn’t I have a class with you,” he said.
“Was it Mexican American literature?”
“No, I think…”
“Maybe, but I think it was another literature course,” he said. He mentioned which one and I didn’t remember. I suppose he was right since it’s difficult not to spot a little chick in a wheelchair.
Anyway, he was working there at the new building where the writing center is located. He told me they only hire in the spring. I felt a bit bad because he seems younger than me, yet he’s already in a higher position than he was when we had that “class together”. I know that mentality of “success” as constructed by our societal norms shouldn’t really apply here. I know I’ve done a lot with what I’ve been given. But I had a moment there where I felt like a complete loser, a failure. Then again, I was also excited! haha
I just don’t know what it is like to clock in a nine-to-five.
Oh well. The time I’m getting works though since I’m getting to test the waters on several things, and I probably won’t be hearing back from the Homeland Security Department until five or six weeks form now. Yeah, packet still hasn’t been sent.
I’ve been having “work” dreams a lot lately. It’s building up in my subconscious. I know it. I feel it.
After that, I went off to therapy. It’s in the same campus. I told Brunet Young about what happened Monday night. It was strange to talk about, but I’m glad. I’m supposed to be working on a goal progress list. I’ll see if I can share it.
September 5, 2012
Last Thursday I meant to write about my trip to therapy but I got distracted by the insanity of Le Clown’s blogroll contest. I now have to go to rehab for WP addiction. (It was fun though Le Clown, it really was.)
Anywho, I did take pictures of my trip to therapy last week. Again, it was with my crappy Nokia 5230 (it’s not THAT crappy). I had a lovely ride. It was a gorgeous day–one of those days where you feel the Houston heat and humidity suffocating you. “Asphyxiate on this, suckas!” says the southern Sun. You know, like the living in a sweaty armpit metaphor I used a while back? Yeah, it was one of those armpit living days.
I was all ready for therapy, ready to bitch and moan. But I ended up taking the bus late. I arrived at Wheeler station (near downtown) and realized, I wasn’t going to make it on time.
Some people carry umbrellas ’cause it’s so damn hot. Someone should’ve told him it’s a stupid idea to carry a BLACK umbrella since black absorbs more heat, but I wasn’t the asshole to do it.
Once I got to Wheeler Station, I arrived at the MetroRail train heading downtown towards the downtown transit center. I hopped in the northbound train.
The lady in the striped dress helped me out when I nearly got crushed by the sliding doors. Had I not been in my wheelchair, I could’ve been sawed in half (not really, but the image is striking, isn’t it?).
Once I arrived at the downtown transit center and REALLY did get hit by the sliding door, I ran into the lady with the dress again. I also ran into another lady with a baby in a stroller. I wanted to take a picture but was too shy. I also didn’t want attitude; lady looked like she had attitude and might of said something like, “Da hell ya takin’ a pict-sha of my babey fo’?!”
So I just let his sleeping, curly-haired cuteness be.
I had to cross Main Street to get to the transit center and as I did that, I noticed there were cops arresting this dude off on the right parking lot. So I quickly took out my phone and thought to myself, “this is blog material, must take photo now before the cops see”. I think they still noticed I was taking a picture of them.
But get this, lady in the striped dress runs next to me saying, “Girl, you can’t be tweetin’ and crossin’ the street at the same time! Come on now!” I was about to say that I was actually takin’ a picture of the cops and that I don’t even have a Twitter account or internet on my phone to begin with. But I just nodded at her. She did save my life earlier.
As I waited for my last bus (yes, I take a bus, a train and another bus), I called the university psychology research and services clinic to tell them I’d be running “about fifteen minutes late”. Ha! They should know I’m terrible and guesstimating time.
And here’s where I make my social commentary. The majority of the people that take the bus in the area where I live are 1) latino, 2) black, 3) asian. I wonder why? *cough*
When you get to the university, you only see black folks on the bus because the university is near a historically black part of town called Third Ward (my dad thought it was Third World; he can’t understand English that well). It’s a poor area. But I love it in many ways.
I live in the far southwest side though, so I don’t get much of Third Ward anymore. I did when I was living at the university, but now that I’m back with my old folks, I don’t. Well, I do when I go to therapy now. And downtown, near the oil towers, it is a little different. You see a lot of nurses and businessmen–mainly white–and a grand ethic mix is only off to the side.
It’s funny how little certain things have changed. Third Ward is still poor and black. Downtown oil towers are still run by old, rich men.
This is the part where half a dozen pigeons begged me to feed them. I was ready to take AMAZING, head-exploding photos (because that’s what I do), but my damn phone ran out of battery juice. So I was left picture-less and the pigeons where left hungry.
Turns out I got to therapy 40 minutes late! Forty minutes for a fifty minute session! That’s nearly an hour-and-a-half bus ride. Needless to say, we had to reschedule for tomorrow. I won’t be late this time! I’ll tell you though, I used up those ten minutes like never before. It’s a good thing I’ve been hyped, ’cause I was able to bitch and moan a mile a minute.
I didn’t completely loose my trip to the uni though. I went to the student center and signed up in line at the academic records to get my transcript for the DACA application (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) I’m filling out for immigration. They withheld it because I still owe the Debt Collector Mafia two thousand dollars. 😦 Fuck you bill collectors! Let me get my transcripts!
So I zipped my little ass over to the law clinic–where I’m getting free legal advice (YEAH! YEAH!)–and I asked about the lawyer. I schedule for today. So after this, I shall be getting ready to go see the lawyer. Wish me luck.
Ooooh, and who’s the lovely lady you ask? It’s none other than the magnificent Ringmistress (aka Sara Draws) over at Laments and Lullabies. It’s her birthday today and I dedicate these photos to her. 😉
These less-than-mediocre photos are for you lovely lady! Happy barfday! (don’t barf too much now)
August 29, 2012
It’s finally here! My first Canvas post. Please forgive any messy mistakes. I’ve been somewhat absent from the bloggie world this last week and a half. My laptop is still broken and a lot has been going on (when doesn’t a lot go on?)
Anyway, the immigration papers/forms came out for deferred action, so I’ve been looking through those. Let me tell you, it’s a pain in the ass and I can’t see the lawyers until the week after next. But at least my frantic, maddening anxiety has gone down a notch. I’ve been swimming every day now instead of every other day. And between that, playing my ukulele, cuddling with little Luna and taking the bus to therapy, I’ve had little time to catch up on reading. 😦
Also, I went out Saturday despite my bro flaking out on me two nights in a row. And for someone with BPD (read: someone with intense fear of abandonment), I think I managed well by writing this post and accepting a ride from Mansie. He did call to apologize yesterday. 🙂
Anyway, without further adieu, here it is!