Not ready for a change…

In the recent weeks I have reflected on the past four years of college and wondered about what the future holds for me. I am 30-ish and should know, right? Well I don’t have a freaking clue! I want so much……

I want to be a writer and have people want to read my stories, ideas, and books.
I want to be a social worker and help people help themselves.
I want to be an abuse counselor and assist women and children in dark, seemingly dreary situations.
I want to be a professor and teach the masses.
I want to be a feminist and fight for women’s rights within the sex industry and beyond.
I want to be a high school P.E. teacher and teach the importance of health for life.
I want to be a life guard and save lives and teach swimming techniques.
I want to be a scholar………… I want to be something big!


But I think that most of all, I want to be a student. I don’t want to graduate next year and then feel forced to work, although I feel completely unfinished. I want to keep going to school. I want to just absorb everything I can. I want to change everything I believe I am supposed to be, and just be. I want to learn everything and open every door. I feel like the world and I have so much to offer to each other and I want it. I want to be that person, the one I know I am.

Ugggg every year....

A week ago today was Thanksgiving and the very day I decided that I hate Thanksgiving and may never celebrate it again. Every year seems to go the same way, early in the day I think to myself “This year will be splendid! Food, family, and football! I just know this year will be the year my expectations of Thanksgiving will change forever. This year will be the exception to every other Thanksgiving I have ever had.” But by afternoon I recall of the reasons I hate Thanksgiving in the first place.

I recognize that the majority of people would find this hatred toward Thanksgiving to be considered almost blasphemous, but I can not hide this feeling any longer.

I detest sitting around staring at my family, whom I never see other than the big holidays, acting as if we have something in common, because we don’t. There is never going to be a day that I want to cook for eleven hours and I think that Thanksgiving should not be an exception to this rule! I loathe the fact that I have to pretend that I care if you like my gravy! I hate washing 50 dishes! I find it insufferable that I have to share my couch when I watch football, even worse, I might have to sit on someone else’s couches and not feel comfy! I can’t stand the fact I have a day off and I can’t be with who I want or go where I want! I can't bear the fact that the company I keep probably doesn’t even think about why we are “really” getting a day off of work or school.

Maybe it is the “who” not the “day” that makes my skin crawl, but I sadly admit I am limited in that regard. Maybe it is the commercialized part of the holiday I dislike, but I am a “victim” of black Friday by choice. Maybe Thanksgiving is like this for everyone and it is, to some extent, like childbirth, you forget how awful it is every time so you will hopefully continue to reproduce. I am ok with that, but I am certain that this past year was my “last ditch effort” for enjoying Thanksgiving.

That is until next year when I say to myself again, “Oh, this year will be fantastic and better than all the rest. This year will be the exception to every other Thanksgiving I have ever had!”

Optimism, insanity, or ignorance? You decide.

The over indulgence

I write…..

I have had this feeling, an anticipation of sorts. I wish I had an outlet that made me not feel so, so guilty. The cravings are something I have felt before, but not for a while. The desire is something I have been thinking about incessantly. Warmth, smooth, eager…… ummmmm.

I might feel shame…… but not enough to keep me from having what I want. I might feel some regret… but not till tomorrow. I might want more….. but who knows if I have the room.

All I know is that I will be satisfied this one day, this one time, this one event. I can not tell the future, but I like the feeling of curiously wondering about what may happen later. Maybe this will be the last time I make this choice, then, never again….. or I make this choice every week and hide the guilty pleasures from the world….. secretly smiling on the inside……. ear to ear…… no one will know….. my little secret. I will have to wait it out, but soon, very soon I will indulge………

Tonight
I will make brownies for dinner.

Cruelty comes,

I think that right this minute every parent in the world should sit down and have a “real” conversation with their child. They should sit them down face-to-face and explain to them the beauty of being an individual.

Every parent, right this second, should share with their children the facts about “words” and how they can hurt someone. They should explain to their babies that the names you call your classmates, siblings, and maybe even friends can harm a person as much, or even more, than your fists can. They should enlighten their innocent children with the truth and the consequences about calling someone “gay” or “fag.”

It is time to tell the children of the world, our future leaders, that words referring to race or gender, used in a negative matter, should never be spoken. That the differences in each of us are what makes us fantastically unique creatures. The beauty in diversity makes everyday worth exploring life.

I think every parent should tell their children not to be cruel, entitled, careless, misbehaved, spoiled, heartless, inconsiderate punks! I want every selfish, neglectful parent to stop right this very second and tell your nasty mean child to leave the nice, loving, and sweet kids alone. Tell those lil’ son of a bitch children, that you allow to get away with murder, to leave the kids who wear clothes that are “different” than yours alone, to leave the kids with disabilities alone, to leave the kids whose parents can’t afford fancy clothes or brand names alone.

Most of all I want all of those parents to teach their children the consequences of those words. The endless nights those children spend crying about the way they look or their lack of friends. The countless hours, that the victims of verbal abuse spend, wondering “why me?” Make them see the fears, regrets, and suicides that could follow these words. The deep dark path of destruction the word “fat” or “ugly” can brand on the soul of a little girl or boy. Scream the importance and gravity of the loneliness and lack of understanding……… isolation, desperation, seclusion………. .

The fail.....

There are those people. Those who are prettier than you. Those who are smarter than you. Those who are thinner than you. Those who are better than you.
They are lurking in every corner of your mind. They are your uncertainties of inadequacy or loneliness. They are your fears of failure and rejection. They are the manifestations of regret and shame.
They are in your person, escorting you down the path of disenchanted expectations of yourself. They feed off of you. You let them in and they take away from you………. You let them in.

Most days I stare in the mirror, lifting this or sucking in that. After a good long critical moment, I release all of it and look intently. Usually just for a second…… and in that second I accept. I accept that I am this. I am this person. I am. For that moment I am me and I love me. For that moment, I accept me. I inhale all of the air my chest can take in, like a prideful boasting male bird, and then exhale loudly and wildly. In that exhale I let go. I release expectation. I let it go.
Usually, within that same second I turn out of the door. Naked, I pass by another mirror… inhale……. then they are there again. Those people I let in. And even if that one breath is the only moment I have of serenity…. I go on….

The future......

It has been weeks since the therapeutic writings of an “angry Kim” had begun and then the writing quickly came to a halt. I recently quit writing about the things that made me full of rage, disgust, or misunderstanding online for a couple of reasons. One reason was I hated hearing the criticism from others. I wanted to be angry without restrictions and I found myself being bound by the words and judgment of others. Even the slightest remark made me feel like a failure…….. normal? Probably not, but I have never really been within the “normal lines” anyways.
In recent weeks life has brought me an abundance of personal tribulation. I did not want to, or feel the need to, write or complain about them in a public form. I attempt to keep my kiddos and past relationships out of the blog completely. Although I frequently find myself being preoccupied with those issues more than others, which leaves me less to write about publically, but plenty to journal about. I guess to be honest with myself, I did not want to share the personal depths of what I had been dealing with….. for that I am only slightly regretful.
In the future, regarding my blog, I will not only complain about the negligence of others or the lack of social regard that humans tend to have “these days,” I will try to be more personal, less ridged. More amusing, less dramatic. More inviting, less disagreeable. More engaging, less callous.
More Kim, less public at large………….. personal.

Complain, Complain, Complain

I was recently asked by a close friend if all I do is complain. The short answer is “no” complaining is not all I do. The long answer goes as such…..

“No, although I do complain daily, I also find that between the rants and rages of my everyday life, I have moments of pleasure and sheer elation as well. Most mornings, there is at least one instance when, I catch myself smiling from feeling of the warmth of the sun on my face during an early morning swim.”
“There are many times when I get sentimental staring into my children’s eyes while reminiscing about the times when they were just infants.”
“I do find myself forgetting all of the frustration, which seems to penetrate ever area of my life, and just be……”
“I do have a full range of wild and tamed emotions.”
“I do share love as much, if not more than, feelings of disgust or opposition for my fellow humans.” My point is, I fill my life with some many things other than complaining or being angry.

My hope today is that I convey what the point of my blog is regarding “the big picture” of it. I believe that expressing my feelings, those icky, angry, frustrated, I wish someone knew how I felt feelings, I can be a better me.

If I put it down on paper for only me to see, does that do my feelings or the relevance of my point any justice? If I complain or inquire to no one, can I make a change within myself or hope that others will? Am I important enough or worthy enough to make a change regarding anything? These questions are what I ask myself everyday….. Do I, or my views, even matter in this big world? Do I make a difference at all?

I write this blog or put something down on paper everyday….. I write because I feel good about it. I feel good to be a part of something bigger than me. To sum it up, I want to be better…. So I complain and hope that even if all I change is my own point of view or even my sons’ ideals on social behavior and respect for their fellow humans, then I can feel accomplished. I write because I feel joyful about the fact that I emote, feel, and release all of the angst. I feel spectacular that when I am done….. as I am now… I always end on a smile.

The entitlement factor…..

The more time I spend with the human species the more repugnance I have for them. What is it that makes someone believe they are more significant than the other people around them? Why do some people believe their life, time, property, and opinions are more significant than their neighbor’s? Why do “the rules” only apply to those who adhere to them……. Not to everyone?
For example, the person at the movies, you know the ones who keep their phone on and throughout the film texts or even have a full on conversations, why? Now I know, because I am at the same movie, that these people watched all of the commercials that jokingly (or seriously) stated “Keep your phones off, no texting or calling!” But they still insist that this rule does not apply to them, just the people around them who might interrupt their movie!
Then there are the people who insist on not using any signals on their vehicle to allow others to know what to expect…. Like a turn signal! When did the turn signal become optional? I love it even more when the person chooses not use the turn signal but slows down to a complete stop to turn……. Entitled!
Garbage…. This is a big one! When did people decide that just dropping garbage on the ground was ok? Why is it ok that you eat your bag of chips or drink your giant drink then throw it on the ground? Oh, will someone else get that for you? Probably… but should we always wait for someone else to do it?
When are we going to, as a whole, start to be accountable for ourselves, start helping out one another, learn to empathize with each other, be cautious, love, care about something other than ourselves or BIGGER than ourselves?
Today I went to see a movie and someone actually answered their phone sitting next to me in a theater. At that moment I lost all hope in people, I yelled and got heated and she hung up. It took about 30 minutes till I felt better and regained a little bit of that hope back, that is until I was nearly side swiped by a person turning without any warning. As I sat there in my anger and rage, I lost all hope again……..and again it took a while but I started to get over that feeling, maybe regaining a little bit of hope again.
Later we went to baseball practice and a lady threw all of her garbage out the car door as she was pulling away! As I picked up her trash and chased her Circle K cups through the parking lot I lost all hope for humanity once again!
As I sit here now, attempting to let go of the sheer ignorance of the people I encountered today, I think “When will it be too much to get over? When will I just be angry without bursts of happiness in between? When will these people, the selfish crazies around me, decide to pull their head out of their asses and look around? There are other people out there; maybe they just need to change their view!”

Oh today.... you are a bastard!

First instincts......

I may be alone in theses thoughts but, sometimes when someone I don’t like is talking to me, I think about kicking them in the head! I know, I know, weird but this is a very true statement…… Ok even worse, I occasionally think about kicking people in the head that I do like, but I just don’t like what they are saying at that time! Like I said before, I may be a lone wolf here, but the impulse I have, every so often, is to kick people in the head. Sometimes I just turn people off in my head when they are speaking (you know, in my head I hear Charlie Brown’s teacher) and I think “kick one, kick two, kick three…… right in the head!” Of course, I do not think this is an appropriate behavior, you know, going around kicking folks in the head, but oh how great it would be to just do it…….. I won’t but…… OH YA! I can see it now……….

In the grocery store the cashier could say “Sorry mama, this coupon doesn’t work here” then a KICK right to the head, “Works now, don’t it” I would reply after the awe-inspiring kick to the head! The improper grammar and all……. Gosh how amazing it could be!

Or when picking up the kids from their father he could say “Hey you forgot the check you owe me” then round-house KICK to the head! “Ya, I got your check right here” I would yell as he fell to the ground! How bad-ass kung-fu of me that could be!

Oh, or a person who could cut me off driving and yell “Move lady!” I could jump out of my car at the stop light and walk up to their window as they roll it down yelling at me, then BOOM, I ram my heel into their head all gangster style! “You messed with the wrong lady today” I would calmly say as they take me away in the back of the cop car.  Oh the satisfaction I could feel…. Priceless!

But like I stated before, theses are all in my imagination. I could never kick someone in the head! I am 4’11 for god sakes, I could barely kick them in the shin! Maybe that is why the fantasy is so grand. I may just have short-chic Napoleon syndrome! You know as if I am a lil’ chihuahua puppy acting like I am a Great Dane....  Running around kicking people in the head!

Sept. 12, The firm.

I wish I could go back in time. I wish I could go to the exact time and place that the nipple (the female nipple only) became so offensive that we decided to hide them eternally! I want to go back to the exact day and moment that it occurred to someone (probably a man) that these magnificently delicate wonders of nature had to be restricted from society. That the source of all goodness and nutrition for our children and others needed to be stored away!


YA I said it, I want to travel through time to find out who the sick S.O.B. is that decided, not only do we have to hide these beautiful mammary glands and there fantastic accessories, but we should also encase them in the unbearable, excruciating, pointy, metal cage called a bra!


I want to look at that (probably a man’s) face and ask “Why are you so offended by my breast and nipples?”


“Why” I would ask “is it the social norm for my smooth, supple breasts to be hidden under layers of polyester wrapped with barbed wire?”


“Why” I would scream “are men’s nipples treated so differently?”


“Why is it that a man’s nipples and breasts, which are covered in hair, misshapen, frequently malformed, and practically useless, are paraded around openly for all to see?”


“Why, when developing this bra, do you not consider the needs of a woman and her comfort over the look of two breasts squished together and the cleavage that follows the torture?”


“Why is it that the “look” in a bra is more important than the rash that the bra creates?”


Most importantly I would ask him (cause I am quite sure he is a man) “Why, sir, do you care about my breasts being pressed firm to my chest and bursting the seams of this cloth death trap……. WHY?


I wish I could go back and time…….. I would ask this (probably a) man these very questions and then beat him within an inch of his life!


Today, I bought a new bra……. I imagine you all can see how that went.

Sept. 10th, Seeing red.......

            Today, like every other day, I drove to the gym and swam laps back and forth in a highly chlorinated cesspool, hoping to find enlightenment.

            Today, like every other day, I found none. What I did find, much like every other day at the local pool, was a grumpy, mean old-man, not nice enough to share a lane with anyone (even though each lane is built for two). The scene goes as follows……….

            A nice, soft spoken woman, asked a man who was swimming alone in a lane, as polite as could be” May we share?” The mean old-man exclaimed, in a gruff and animated tone, “I would prefer you go elsewhere!” The woman then replied “Oh, sorry to bother you, maybe someone else will be kind enough to share.” In that moment I felt the heat begin to rise in my face and my blood began to boil…. Why on earth did she not just yell and tell him how rude he was or say “Too bad, I am gonna swim here anyways!?” Why not stand up and tell him that he is a jerk or even ask him “Who the hell do you think you are?” I was about to become enraged… I knew it… no one can be “unjust” around me and not get the run of the mill ass-reaming, especially to a person who was so kind! In those few moments I thought to myself “huh, no one is ever that kind!”
             Seconds before I opened my mouth, I glanced over at her standing in next lane. She was asking a young woman if she would kindly share her lane and realized something! She was a local anchor woman from the news channel I watch! She was on T.V. everyday reporting the important (and not so important) local news that Tucsonans watch, or like me, fall asleep to every night. She couldn’t say what she wanted to. She couldn’t just tell him to “kiss her ass!” She had to maintain some kind or respect and dignity. She is a public figure. After stewing in my anger for a couple of minutes, I began to feel OK with her choice of letting this mean old- man get away with not sharing the social pleasantries we expect from society (although we never receive)!
             I learned something from her today. I observed her graceful and understanding means of dealing with the selfish and rude population. What I learned today I will remember forever… Today I learned that could never be a public figure! Public figures require two things I could never maintain, votes or ratings! I don’t have the capability to filter the words of wisdom that I bestow upon everyone I meet.  What I possess is a gift, the gift of understanding how not to be rude or blatantly ass-y! I will continue to maintain this personal "jem" a gift because so few people I encounter have this quality!  After thinking about the encounter with the mean old-man for a bit, I came to one big conclusion...... Lucky me, I can tell old guys to "shove it!"

Sept 9th... fighting the inevitable.

32……. Why must you hate me so much? I have been with you for less than a week and I get the suspicious feeling you won’t be any better to me than 31 was! I mean when I was with 24 I always felt vibrant, sexy, and thin…… but 32 you are a bastard! I wish I could wrap my head around this horrible relationship we share!


Maybe I should just come to terms with you? Accept what you really are? But look around 32, you are beginning to take a toll on me! You make me tired and you even make my back hurt. No, it is nothing like when 30 gave me sciatica and arthritis. It is even worse! I swim 1200 meters a day and still nothing…. I have numerous dance, yoga, and Pilates classes a week, to no avail. 32……. You still keep making my ass fatter! I eat leaves for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and still can’t loss a pound! I dream of cheesecake pillows, covered in peanut butter cups……but I know if one were to pass my lips you, 32, would seek your revenge on my thighs! I spend most of my days covered wrist to neck hiding the damage you have done. Avoiding mirrors and eye contact has become a bit of a hobby as well.

I know that I can not leave you with out dire consequences. But maybe, just maybe I can go back to 29 in a fantasy? Maybe I can just tell everyone I am still with 29, even though on the inside I would know the dark painful truth.

32, you are a bastard and although I feel like this today, I hope that I can somehow, one day, come to terms with what you really are….. and maybe even love you. But from what I hear I will probably be with 45 when I do!

Sept 8th..... and the run away aide.

      Today was ridiculous! Pima Community College is my official complaint for the day! It has been 3 months and 12 days since I filled out my financial aide information and turned it in…………….. Still no financial aide!!!! I have talked to a total of 13 people and not one of them has an answer…… until Saturday. Yes they respond! The information they finally shared was that my paper work was incomplete. That the very paperwork that I filled out, was not even checked before entering it into the scanner, which then gets placed in a 26.8 foot pile of paper work that NO ONE has ever even seen, but we know exists!

         So I rush to the Pima office and tell them “here…. here is the paperwork you need, that you said you had…. Can I have money for school and books and life now PLEASE!????” Their response is “In about 5 to 7 business days you should here something”……… Ok I can deal with that because for about 2 months, of the 3 months and 13 days of waiting, I thought they forgot about me. Being “responded” to made me feel a little bit better……. Until today, today was the very last straw. I looked at my Pima account and I saw that they didn’t receive my information still; you know the information I took to the office and handed to them 5 business days ago!
       So I call….. and calmly explain, to the apparently 16 year old boy on the phone, that the computer must be wrong… needless to say he had no information…. Ugh. Hours later I check the Pima website again, I received an email from Pima! “Mrs. Kimberly …… could you please find the time to take this survey for our campus. Customer service is our priority. Your information was found and your issues should be resolved.” “Huh” I thought. How is the issue resolved if the computer still says “we need all your crap still????” So my paperwork is found and you have the time to generate a survey email but no one….. no one has the time to update my account and fix my non-existent financial aide???? This is absurd! I guess the idiot who pushes the survey button was working faster today that the idiot who pushes they “fix the stuff that matters” button……. And I am done!