Giant

I heard something intriguing today. About giants. Not quite the literal kind but the figurative kind. The giants we have in our lives that kind of paralyze us with fear and stand in the way of our freedom so to speak.

So the man I heard this from was talking about a specific, literal giant. The famous Goliath of the Bible. A lot of people may say that this is one of those stories parallel to one told by the Brothers Grimm or Mother Goose but for me I see the reality in that story and for the first time today I heard it in a way I had never heard it before.

I saw myself as the David and my issue with Flower Bandit as the giant. Also my issue with my job situation come December as another giant. And my parents' going home soon as another giant. I have all these figurative giants in my life right now and I have been reacting a lot like the army of Israel did in front of Goliath.

Ok, I am not going to go all spiritual on you but I have a point. That army just focused on the giant and because they were taking him in in all his 9 foot whatever glory with his huge weapons and taunting jeers, they were petrified of him. They stared and did nothing because they saw how huge he was in relation to them and so they wet their pants instead. Good plan.

Then along comes David ben Jesse and he looks at Goliath, acknowledging that he is there and then he looks to his God and sees Goliath in relation to God and he does not seem so intimidating afterall.

Ok, I realize I am sounding preachy now but I have been behaving rather like the Israeli army with the giants in my life. I am looking at the problems looming in my life and I am wetting my pants because they seem so much bigger than me. Well duh they are bigger than me.....they're giants. But I am Christian. Not a particularly good one all the time, but I am one regardless. I have been cowering and trembling in my little corner because I am afraid to approach or even look at my giants and yet the God I believe in is that much bigger than the giants.

My giants are complicated giants but my God dissolves the spirit of confusion.

I need to ponder a bit more on this one.

Lonely and missing mum

This school is teeming with international students. Thats just a fact. And a lot of these students left their homes and families and such to get a decent education or oppurtunities they felt they could not get elsewhere. Or because their parents made them, whatever.

So a lot of these students are alone here. This is a huge place to be alone kids. It can swallow you up if you’re not careful. I know even American students who left their homes in Oklahoma or even Houston feel that sting sometimes too, but I think for international students it feels a bit different. Not only are mummy and daddy far away, but so is your native tongue and your friends and your old hang outs. You’re having to get used to this culture and the way things are done here. And it is not the hardest transition in the world I don’t think, but there are moments when nostalgia hits and all you want to do is go home and cuddle up to mummy.

I have been here for four years now and though I periodically go home for a couple of weeks (Christmas mainly) I miss home a lot. And my home right now is in Iran because that is where my family lives.

I’m an adult. I realize this. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I know that part of being an adult is living on your own and being grown up about things like homesickness. But all the words and pep talks in the world will not stop me feeling lonely here. I see so many international students who are fine during the week because they have classes and work to worry about. But come Saturday and Sunday, I see them sitting in the library or in Ransom Hall and it is not always because they just love studying or have an impending test, but it is because they are a little lonely and need to do something around other people.

Perhaps this is not a casualty of being a foreigner and everybody has those moments. But I can not just hop on a bus and go see my parents and be around the familiar. Hopping on a plane requires loads of time and loads of dosh ($$). And if your particular ethnic group is not sufficiently represented here (e.g. Zimbabwean students are not severely common around these parts. Dallas yes, but not so much here) you can’t help but feel a little disconnected sometimes.

So here I am light years from home (slight exaggeration) and conforming to American life and sometimes I just want to speak my own language and talk to my mum face to face. International students get lonely a lot. Case and point. Try and befriend us, we’re really rather pleasant (some of us that is. Lets don’t get carried away with sloppy generalizations). You would be amazed how much having friends makes the homesickness ebb.

So adopt an international, Lol. It is a worthy cause I think.

I think The Supremes were feeling me with this

Set me free, why don’t cha babe
Get out my life, why don’t cha babe
’cause you don’t really love me
You just keep me hangin’ on
You don’t really need me
But you keep me hangin’ on

Why do you keep a coming around
Playing with my heart?
Why don’t you get out of my life
And let me make a new start?
Let me get over you
The way you’ve gotten over me

Set me free, why don’t cha babe
Let me be, why don’t cha babe
’cause you don’t really love me
You just keep me hangin’ on
Now you don’t really want me
You just keep me hangin’ on

You say although we broke up
You still wanna be just friends
But how can we still be friends
When seeing you only breaks my heart again
And there ain’t nothing I can do about it

Woo, set me free, why don’t cha babe
Woo, get out my life, why don’t cha babe
Set me free, why don’t cha babe
Get out my life, why don’t cha babe

You claim you still care for me
But your heart and soul needs to be free
Now that you’ve got your freedom
You wanna still hold on to me
You don’t want me for yourself
So let me find somebody else hey!

Why don’t you be a man about it
And set me free
Now you don’t care a thing about me
You’re just using me
Go on, get out, get out of my life
And let me sleep at night
’cause you don’t really love me
You just keep me hangin’ on...You Keep Me Hangin’ On

This I Believe

The women in my family taught me how not to speak.

Through their lives they showed me time and time again that speaking up to the man I your life was not a woman’s place.

Our culture teaches us that women are to serve and please those around them, even if their own pleasure and happiness is compromised.

I believe strongly in the power of speaking up. It sounds obvious but for some, like the women in my family, it is not.Every woman in my family has been a strong woman who had ideas and wasn’t afraid to be vocal about them. They protected and defended their children with a fierceness that made even the strongest of men uneasy. And yet these strong willed women, who are vibrant and full of life turn into deaf mutes when the men in their lives mistreat them.

My great-grandmother raised eight children in the bush of Zimbabwe. For her, educating her children, especially her girls, was the goal of her life. She did this because she knew that an education would make her girls independent and strong, unlike her.

Her husband, a deeply religious, inspirational and strong man, loved her in his own way. But he treated her like a second class individual at times. Their relationship worked, but only because she remained silent about the pain she truly suffered.

For as long as I can remember my great grandmother suffered from mild dementia. She wasn’t crazy, just confused all the time. She was always a silent woman who smiled a lot.

As a young adult I realized her smile was always very sad. I saw her silence as defeat and surrender and I began to believe silence was deadly.I looked at the relationships of her daughters, all married to vocal, intelligent men, just like great granddad. And though these women were all educated and had inner strength, they made no effort when their husbands cut them down. They ignored the bad things their husbands did and pretended life was fine.

They were trapped in what I considered a conscious sort of dementia themselves. Prisoners to their own silences.

I never noticed any of that in myself until I began my adult life and came face to face with my own silence.

I was a painfully quiet, shy kid growing up. And that was fine because I did not feel vulnerable then. But now, at 23, I can see that my silence is falling into that pattern. A generational curse of sorts.

I am afraid that my inability to speak up when I am not happy is going to condemn me to the sad life my matriarchs lived and died in. Your voice is a powerful part of you and needs to be let out.

I am a journalism student because I believe in being the voice for those who cannot or will not be heard by the rest of us. My passion is telling the stories of the underprivileged whose stories are often ignored or told incorrectly. But I have learned to silence my own voice. I have learned how not to speak and at this point in my life I have decided to unlearn the habit.

I have decided to speak up and save myself from my silence. Not only in relationships but in everything. How can I be the voice of the silent when my own is choked up within me?

This I believe, the power of speaking will unshackle me from the curse of my family and lead me to a more meaningful life I can live for myself, and not for the pleasure of others.

So tell me, how do I learn to speak when I am afraid that my voice will destroy me?

Work in Progress.

How much today bites

It rained. The moment I was far enough from my house and yet far away from school and I was crossing the street and it was like a freak flood from the heavens.

Had an umbrella so it was ok. NO it wasn't but I was relatively dry.

I have a major Spanish test Wednesday and I still did not have the bloody book. So I decided to walk to the college bookstore down the street, since our campus bookstore is gay and didn't have the book on its own but in a stupid $200 set that included stuff I did not need and already had. Puh.

It was raining and I was fine with my umbrella. Then two sumbitches in thier stupid cars sped past me and in the middle of two Atlantic sized puddles and splashed me. TWICE. I was drenched in nasty gutter water. DRENCHED.

I was mad as hell. And wet. And gross. And had thirty minutes to walk from the store to my house to change and then back to class.

At the store the book cost $130. WTF!

I paid it. I was already mad as hell, it couldn't get worse.

Realized I would not make it to class on time so called my proff and told her I would be late. Slight flood emergency. Ya.

Got home and showered. Figured I was going to be late anyway, may as well shower and eat right? So I did. Felt a tad better. Went to class. It sucked. Went to work and then it began.

I have been sneezing nonstop since I got to work. I am getting sick and I have three tests this week and a boatload of work to do.

Today bites. I wish today was a person so I could choke it.

That is all.

Hottie McGorgeous spoke with me

Foolish things really. I have bigger things to blog about but I don't on this blog.

BUT I have to mention that at my new job at the brand new, really-big-deal activities center (or gym if you will), there is this GAW-GEOUS guy I work with.

Ok, I don't WORK WITH him. He just interns in the same office and I see him every now and then. And this Saturday at training I spoke to him. I have known about him for two years almost and he was the cutest black guy at the school. I even blogged about him awhile back.

Anyway I was not expecting to see his face but there he was early Tuesday morning in my face and I was rendered speechless for a second. Too fwine. And then at training he was standing by me and we spoke. Small chat of course and he has a girlfriend and we are NOT going down that winding road again. Lol. For real. Get it to-damn-gether.

But he wasn't MONUMENTALLY fine anymore for some reason. Perhaps I am preoccupied. But he was cute and I have some eye candy at work.

The life of the bored and slightly superficial.

Tragic really.

Be Kind To Yourself

I'm tired of talking about him. I am tired of being in this game. I am tired of it all. I am at a point where I am just tired. Tired.

I'm not sure if I am upset that much anymore or just tired. He has been away all weekend and he has messaged me the whole time but I am tired. Tired.

I have no energy for this and it is really a waste of my time and thoughts and energy.

I'm tired damnit. Tired as hell. I'm just so tired.

I realize I sound very repetitive but that is the way my life has been of late. I hung my life on this one situation because I thought, will I ever really find love? Will I find whatever the fuck it is I am looking for? I have whined to the point of exhaustion. I am bored with myself.

I am tired damn it. Tired and on the brink of Don't give a flying fuck.

I'm too old for games. And I really need to stop cussing. Even if it is just on my blog.

Sleepless in.... Dallas?

He's off to Seattle. For the weekend.

I swear I am beginning to talk about him as if he were my boyf, lol. Tragic.

I remember the time I was upset over the IM I over....um...read? Overread. Yes. New word. Anyway. I remember open-relationship-girlfriend mentioning something being better in Seattle. I didn't know if that meant he has found a job and is moving to Seattle or if she is there now or what. I tried to block it out until today when he sent me a text and told me he was on his way to the airport to go to Seattle for the weekend.

So I asked if it was for a job interview or apartment hunting. He said neither, just a little getaway.

Seriously now kids. Who goes on a getaway....to Seattle no less....by themselves? Nobody, thats who. So I put two and two together and concluded he is going to be with open-relationship-girlfriend this weekend.

But I was not interested in being depressed again and I was at Home Church when he messaged me so I didn't ask questions or pry but told him to have a smashing time. And then he says He was "going to miss you babe." Hmmmn. Ok. I said "R not." Childish, I know. But it's me. He said, no, for real, he was going to miss me. In a moment of slight courage I told him not to ever say anything to me that he did not truly mean. But that I would miss him too. Punk.

I am a punk.

And he said he would never do that.

I mean really. What else is a bloke going to say to that? "Oh, I was planning on lying to you three times next week, I guess I'll just scratch that then ey?" I mean honestly. Of course he would promise never to lie to me. Anyway he said he would not do that and we said we'd miss each other and he's off to Seattle with open-relationship-girlfriend for a weekend getaway.

This is so tragic it's funny really. I mean I can not for the life of me stop laughing at how absurd it all really is.

It's madness I tell you. I've truly gone bananas.

I'm getting real sick of everyone around me being in love. This has to stop Dammit.

Still dunno about my hair. Ugh. Tragedy.

Went to my cousin J's wedding this weekend. I think I looked pretty bad come to think of it.
I hate the length of my hair right now, I look like a rather unattractive little boy. Yuck.

Anyway. I am doing better. I think. I am trying to not think too much.

Oh wait, forgot to talk about J's wedding. Talk about tragic.


Ok. So it was meant to begin at 6:30 Sunday night. OK. I was at work all day and then when it was twenty minutes before C was going to pick me up, I ran home to shower, curl my hair and get dressed. I wore my little black dress. Is that not appropriate for a wedding? It wasn't morbid looking though and it has some bling on it. Safe right?

But it was short. Oh dear. I don't do short. I didn't look tragic though. I hope. Whatever.

So by 6:30 hardly anyone is there and the bride is no where to be found. Panic.

J seemed to get nervous.

So at some point the auditorium is filling up. Yes, not a church despite him being a pastor's kid. Just a weird ceremony thing that was like a reception merged with a wedding mass. So awkward.

The boys looked hot as usual. I was dreading Mo being there. He is the guy I dated a year or so ago. Big mistake. Stupid, stupid girl. I knew he would be there though but for the first hour or so he wasn't.

So everything was impromptu. They had no plan. Oh black people why?

Stephen said they had a rehearsal but nothing happened there and they had no idea how it was all going down. Ay!

So everyone was basically there and no one had a clue where the bride was. Finally around ten minutes to seven J FINALLY looked at his phone and saw that his wife had been calling him nonstop forever. Idiot. Lol. I suppose he was nervous.

Apparently their kid (ya, I know) had had health issues. Somehow he swallowed a penny. Not kidding. So they had spent the day at the doctors. Their wedding day.

Then the bride's dad shows up but none of the rest of the bride's fam is there yet cause they are with her. The dad had like six glasses of wine, one after the other. Just chugging that alcohol so by 7:15 he was more than just a little pleasantly lit. He was talking kinda crazy, it was funny.

Then FINALLY she shows up but she has to get dressed and all that and there is more delay. The wedding started, the dj's were horrible and their sound system was busted so it seemed really choppy. And finally the wedding part was over and
we had dinner.

Dinner was awesome I must admit. I had one glass of wine and I was done. Not drunk or tipsy but I had a headache, hence the no drinking rule I live by now. And guess who showed up? Mo. Well he had been there since before the ceremony started but we didn't speak as much. During dinner I was stuck at a table with my cousin Stephen and his girlfriend of nine months whom he ADORES. He is so in love with her and treats her so well and she loves him. They were not all over each other but they were sweet and you could just sense the love. Made me ache a little inside to be honest. But it was sweet.

I want to be happy for everyone else on the planet who has someone to love but I can't. Am I selfish like that? I mean I don't mean to be but I can't enjoy their happiness when I am in misery. Maybe I am selfish. Hmmn. Far too young for this but far too old not to at least worry a little.

Anyway. I felt like a HUGE third wheel. And then Mo shows up and sits next to me. I have to admit I was grateful for the company and flirted a little. I'm sorry it is my nature. I like attention.

We talked like acquaintances and it wasn't horrible. It was actually quite nice. Would I ever consider him again? Not on your life. Just not my cup of tea you know? I see that now. Absence makes the brain grow smarter sometimes.

The wedding was..... a wedding. The electric slide. Drunk father-in-law. Cute couple with a kid. You know, typical. Lol.

The funniest bit though came when the dj's got to a certain portion of the play list. My cousin J does not understand that a wedding is not a club. He picked the music. It was fine at first, all sappy love songs and even some Lion King and Aladdin in there. Awkward. But then we got into the hard core rap. Straight thuggin it. And all the white people got up as if by command and left. It was rather tragic to be honest. I thought it was funny. It died out around 11-ish and I went home to sleep.

Fun times. Fun times.

Thats all for now.

Yo no se que hacer

I genuinely do not know what to do with my hair. It has been out of braids for about 2 weeks now and I have not kept it under scarves. I'm pleased at the money I have not spent yet on it but I dunno what to do about it. I bought this HELLA EXPENSIVE shampoo conditioner set from the salon (yeah, they got me) that is supposed to thicken your hair. I am cynical about everything, but I am also a little desperate for my hair to be fine again. I am trying to keep it out of braids and whatever other method of torture I inflict on it but I haven't the foggiest what to do with it. It is a weird length and I am just stumped to be honest.


Did we ever come up with a nickname for this guy I have been up and down with? No I don't think we did. Hmmn. I dunno what to call him now. How about "Not For Sale?" Ya, not terribly imaginative but for now, until the creative juices flow, we shall refer to him simply as that.

He has never been nor will ever be available for me thats why I picked that name.

So my little plan of ignore and move on failed rather dismally. As if it had a ghost of a chance really. I mean, I brought it all on myself. No use crying over milk you poured on the ground is here? Nope. We are going to be grown up about this and take responsibility. I must admit though, I do a hell of a lot of REALLY stupid things to myself and others. I am unintentionally mean to people I care about, especially me.

So after that overly dramatic episode I had last time I blogged, I decided to ignore it and not think too hard and enjoy it while it lasted.

I AM A DELUDED MORON.

I fell....no, no...sorry. Fell implies no action of my own doing. No, I JUMPED right back in the saddle of broken dreams and bad behaviour and continued "flinging" with him even though I told myself I never wanted to feel as bad as I had that time when everything came into perspective and depression caught up with me.

So I thought, ignore, ignore ignore, and you won't feel as bad. Instead weathering the horrible feelings so I could purge them and him out of my system. Huh. Wrong decision there Sherlock.

I was....ok until yesterday when another wave of reality smacked me in my front teeth, so to speak. I have been hanging out with him all the time this summer. I did not allow myself to think about where his "open-relationship-girlfriend" was all this time. I was with him so often, and he was with me ALL the time it seemed, that open-relationship-girlfriend just became a distant figment of my imagination. I mean, it just does not do to talk to your fling about his open-relationship-girlfriend and ask him questions like, where is she? why are you here with me instead of home with her? doesn't she wonder where you are all the time? Do you love her? What is my purpose?

Questions like that make things uncomfortable and a fling just can not be a fling.

I am joking about this and talking lightly but it does haunt me and the guilt is unbearable at times. But I feel hypocritical. Hence the let's-make-light-of-this tone.

Anyway I digress a little. So yesterday. I was at work and needed to type up a contact list so I jumped on his computer. I typed up my stuff and when I was getting up a window popped up. OK, so I looked. I thought I had done something. But it was his IM window. And it was open-relationship-girlfriend. They had been chatting earlier so the previous messages popped up in the same window. All I saw was him telling her he would talk to her later and her saying "K. Love You."

My stomach did a triple axel flip (is that how that is spelled? I dunno, whatev.)

She exists. Duh, I knew that. But I had temporarily forgotten. And that IM brought reality flooding back. He has a girlfriend. She LOVES him. Hmmn. That leaves you in a bit of a pickle.

I meant to chuck him from my life, I did. But it was hard. He not only is The Fling (HEY! New nickname? Perhaps.) but he is one of the only friends I have here.

I know what you're thinking. He isn't really a friend if he treats you like that and plays with your silly little moronic head. But I don't have anyone I connect with here and hang out with and with him I saw him everyday almost. We have much in common and we are cool.

*SIGH* Excuses, excuses.

And so after I read the IM and was hit by a jolt of guilt and sadness, I went about my work. He came in and asked me what was wrong. Nothing. You're lying. No I'm not, I'm fine. OK, I'll leave you alone then.

He went to his office and I bet he saw the IM window on his screen and put two and two together but was a little wary of bringing it up first. And he knows I don't talk about stuff. The reason I think he knows is because, when he left his office, he locked his computer. He never does that. Hmmn.

Ah silly times, silly times.

I can't lie on my own blog. I went home and I was sad and I cried. It disgusts me to admit that he once again made me cry. But I cried a lot. But I had good friends praying for me and though I felt lonely in my apartment with the TV off and my little sadness blanket around me, I was a little better. I woke up and cried again (GAG) and now I am a little better. I am still sad and I don't know what will happen.I found a new job but I can not get the hours I get at my current job because of international student restrictions. Puh. I feel trapped. And I did it to myself.

Ok, enough of the blame game. Redundant and repetitive. I swear this blog is like a round about.

So, what to do about The Fling. Open-relationship-girlfriend is his love. I am his....I don't know.

But what really gnaws at my nerves is how offended and "hurt" he gets when I imply that I am his plaything. He says what we have is...not that. It's deeper. So what on God's merciful earth is it?

It is a fling. The sooner The Fling realizes he is having a fling with Moronic Girl (thats me) the sooner the truth will come out. I do not like the uncertainty and the hope for something meaningful because it will not be meaningful. Ever. The cynic in me is alive and kicking. and this fling is about to be flung.

If I can stay in a sane state of mind for more than thirty minutes at a time.

I miss him though.

.....And sanity has left the building.