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Exotic = a parrot, not me.

The term “Mulatto” sounds like a cookie, not an “identity.” It’s roots are in slavery and are often associated with “mules.” (offspring of a horse and a donkey, hints that if you’re of mixed race that you can’t reproduce. Still think it’s acceptable now? It sounds extremely offensive.)

I don’t like the word, please don’t use it to describe me. Use words like, “nice, sweet, theatrical, creative, great writer, etc.” or if you think I’m mean or a horrible writer, you can say so, but don’t be offensive.   And at least back it up with some supportive analysis if you think I’m truly a horrible writer.

Also, if you insist on using a racial term, use biracial, or multi-ethnic. My mom is white and my dad is black. It’s 2013, please be educated. And if you aren’t sure, ASK what’s acceptable. Or try, “Do you mind me asking about your background? I love to learn about new cultures.” It’s less offensive than trying to pin a label on me. Asking is great. It really doesn’t hurt to ask nicely.

If you ask me, “What are you?” however, I will only respond “I’m human.”

If you assume I speak Spanish, or think that I should because you think I “look” Spanish, go jump in a lake. I grew up speaking English and I learned German because I wanted to, not because it was “expected,” or because it was considered “practical.”

This is America, you should be able to study whatever language you want to study. And your looks should have nothing to do with your decision.  I am clearly not blond haired and blue-eyed.  (A stereotype, I should point out) but I have a significant amount of German heritage in addition to my Bermudian heritage.  I also speak more German than most members of my family.  And I’m quite proud of all of these facts.)

On an another ironic and almost comical note, today I’m wearing a Daisy Fuentes shirt from Kohl’s. It’s the only one I own and I got it on clearance. It’s possible someone might say I look very “Latina” or Hispanic. I truly have no problem with other cultures and initially thought it was cool years ago, until people almost were disappointed or irritated that they weren’t “correct” in “figuring me out.”  Some Hispanics even accused me of lying about my background or about not knowing Spanish.

Seriously?  If I knew Spanish, I would speak it.  Seriously I would, but I don’t want to take time to learn a new language when I haven’t perfected the first foreign language I know.  I speak with a great accent in German, but my grammar has never been the best.  And honestly, it makes me uncomfortable when people think I HAVE to know a specific language based on my appearance. It feels like they are trying to discount my actual heritage. It gets frustrating because people are making assumptions. If you can imagine, it’s almost a similar feeling to when I put on a little weight and an old woman asked me “Oh, do you have a BABY in there???” (I didn’t) and if you frequently got that question or something similar, it would really bother you too.

That’s how I feel. Normally I wouldn’t go on about this, but for some reason, everyone I met last week wanted to put me in a box, analyze me and break me down into parts.

I’m not an experiment or a circus animal. I am a young woman, with a career and dreams and a desire to live my life without playing 20 milliion questions every day. You’d think I was a celebrity or the president. Oh wait, he’s like me too.

And while I’m continuing to be PC and informationally correct, he’s really the first HALF-BLACK/biracial president.

And I’d like to point out. DO YOU EVER HEAR ANYONE CALLING HIM MULATTO? I don’t think so. People generalize and say “African-American,” but he does have a white mother, and therefore is biracial by “definition.”  If one MUST be defined by race.  I don’t think people should be, but that is a whole other blog entry entirely.

So there you go. Thank you very much ladies and gents, I stand PC, biracial/multi-ethnic and proud.

Any haters out there can go cool off in a lake.  Or do some research.  Personally I find the comedy constructed about this sort of thing is the most informative.

Peace and Blessings.

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Anonymous…

So I took on a new project, of my own volition and though it has completely good intent, I am discovering that people are insisting on breaking it down and analyzing it, rather than just an opportunity to uplift people’s spirits. 

I have been sending anonymous notes to coworkers after some difficult news was released at work.  Just compliments and positivity and yet somehow instead of just taking it for what it is, I feel like I’m getting attacked to reveal that it is me.  I would rather not have them know and just enjoy it, and not think that I did it to make them thank me.  So I have denied any claim to the notes.  People still don’t believe me.  I mentioned that sometimes it is more important to look at the message rather than the messenger, but people are having difficulty grasping that idea.  They are more interested in revealing a mystery.

And I never realized that something that was meant to be so positive, could make me feel so down.  I wanted to bring out the best in humanity, not the worst.  I think I will still continue the project, but I will continue to measure the reaction and see if it is worthwhile pursuing in the next few days. 

I wanted to change the negativity brought about by this change to positivity, not bring about more negativity.  I am trying not to feel like my heart is heavy, but I suppose it is what it is.  People will make what they want of it, and I’ll just continue to do what I do, to be what I am, and to do my best to remain in positive spirits and not think it was a mistake.

And now on to the next task…LUNCH!

So I’m on the road occasionally for my job and tonight I was asked by a server if I wanted a straw for my orange juice.  I know I probably looked a little disheveled.  The day was hectic, insanely wearing on the nerves for a variety of reasons, and my hair was likely frizzy, perhaps I even looked frazzled.  But I must ask, did I really look like I was a kid?

Granted, I DO understand that looking young is a blessing, but it’s a little weird in my opinion to be asked if I want a straw at 28…if I’m going to be asked if I want a straw, I’d like other kid privileges to be extended as well, i.e. playing in the balls at the McDonald’s Fun Room and getting discounts on food and tickets to events.  It’s not fair to grow so much in your youth that you exceed the height limit for all the activities that your friends are doing, especially at birthday parties or get togethers, and you end up having to stand with the moms because they won’t let you in. People don’t get that you actually are within the age range of playing in the fun room and just because you’re tall you’re excluded.   (youthful looking and tall, if I tweeted my hashtag would be “thingsicomplainedaboutgrowingup.”)

I’m just saying.  It’s not that I appreciate these qualities. You have to understand my reasoning—-I would love to have kid privileges again, but all of them please, not just a straw in my orange juice.  And also, kids’ meals with the toy.  You should not charge the extra so many cents or whatever it is for the toy.  That’s just stealing.  Preying on poor parents who are trying to quiet their kid down with the gift/lure of a toy.  Or the method my parents used, “You can open and play with the toy when you have finished your meal.” (toys were not an extra cost in those days)

That’s just good parenting.  Again, in my opinion.  Tease me if you like.  But I bring up a good point.  These fast food places just want more money, and are realizing they might be a dying industry in a growing world of health nuts.  So they charge extra money for a toy….it makes SO much sense!!! (Not.)

On another completely unrelated note, I saw an elderly gentleman in the hotel lounge, sitting in nearly the same spot as he was the year before when I was eating dinner at this hotel LAST year.  I decided to ask this year if he was an employee or a regular.  I didn’t ask him directly because he was in mid-conversation, but the very nice barista who asked me if I wanted a straw, also let me know that this older man in a leather jacket and a straw hat is actually the man that drives the shuttle to the Casino.  It is a ten minute ride to the Casino, but you’d have to pay me a good sum to make me go.  I am not a fan of gambling.  I would much rather save my money or spend it on something where I know I’m getting something out of it.  Giving up my money for chance? Sounds like a ponzi scheme to me…

Another familiar face in the lounge was an admissions counselor from another school who is probably in his 60s or 70s.  He is nice, but his demeanor makes me wonder if he has a life outside of his work.  Work is important, but when you get drained just hearing about what someone does in their day you either feel like you aren’t doing enough (despite knowing you work very hard) or that the person who is telling you about their day is running on accelerants.

I think I’d rather achieve success in a natural fashion, without stimulants, thank you.

And now, I think perhaps because of a lack of stimulants and a three hour drive to my destination, that my journal entry topic has taken on a mind of its own.

Ah well, I might just go with it.  I think I’m going to tell you about my morning and about St. Paddy’s Day weekend.

This morning, the reason everything was so harrowing, was because the college car got stuck in the snow and a safety officer and the director of campus safety had to help guide me out of the snow filled spot.  Then I had trouble finding a spot that was plowed and the bottoms of my pants and socks were wet.  I hadn’t worn my higher boots because I didn’t intend to be making deep treks through the snow.  Just was hoping to get through the slush in the parking lot and not ruin my regular shoes.  Then somehow, I ended up having to get a coworker to pick me up from a distant parking lot so I could actually avoid a ticket from leaving my car on main street overnight while being away.  But on the plus side, my diligence in getting this all taken care of early allowed me to get down to my destination before evening traffic got to its worst.

And St. Paddy’s Day Weekend.  It was a GREAT weekend.  I spent it with my wonderful boyfriend and we visited a local pub near where I live, watched a Bruins game into the afternoon and ate good Irish food for an early dinner.  We also visited a few of his friends in Nashua, played an entertaining card game called “Cards Against Humanity” and watched a terrible, but terribly funny horror movie called “Rubber,” about a tire that is possessed and has telepathic powers that he uses to kill his victims.

It’s just as silly as it sounds.  And we made tire jokes the entire movie.  (Pun fully intended.)

Well, I’m having difficulty staying awake, so I think I might retire early before my fair in the morning…

…Okay, I promise that’s the LAST tire joke I will use in this entry.  But I could also mention that it really has been a GoodYear since my very first college fair nearly a year ago.

Okay seriously, I’m quitting the tire jokes before I get numerous angry comments on my blog, lol, (though it might be worth it for a laugh)

Good night world! And as always, Be well! 🙂

Tonight I was at the grocery store and asked for $10 cash back in quarters, and the guy behind me said, “Super pinball player aren’t ya?” And I said, “Yeah, but I tell everyone I just need the quarters for my laundry, you can keep that under wraps, can’t you?” And he laughed. 

Little did he know, I am not a very skilled pinball player, but I am excellent laundry folder.  I once got asked if I went to school to know how to fold so neatly. 

I remember the moment well, and the puzzlement I felt in thinking someone would actually consider paying money to go to school learn how to fold. 

The irony was too much.  I loved my college, but I never would have paid to take a class on folding. 

And then, it was my turn to laugh.

 
 

Misty March

So it’s been a little bit since I posted last, but in all fairness, my time was constrained.  I meant to post a Valentine’s related update but that failed due to a lack of internet at home.   Thankfully, recently a gracious neighbor has allowed me temporary internet access as she understands the plight of a woman in a long-distance relationship.

I had a few weeks also where I was worrying and stressing non-stop about my relationship with my boyfriend, but I came to a harsh realization that the worries were for the most part unfounded, and the stress was definitely self-induced.  I had a long conversation with a close friend who is a minister and though I’m not personally religious, I do identify as a spirtual being, and I still value the connection and continuous support of an individual to their spiritual and personal wellness.  If we do not mind our mind, it will get the best of us.

So, after this heart to heart with my good friend, who is much older, married and has several children and grandchildren, I recognized a few things.  My personality and character are that of a caretaker.  I delve deeply into the actions of caring for others, whether I realize it or not and ultimately find myself drained of physical and emotional energy after all is said and done.  A huge part of me has a hard time NOT being a caretaker, as it is so knitted into my being that I don’t know how to not be that way.

However, throughout the course of the conversation with my friend, I came to realize that if this behavior continues on the extreme level, I will continue to feel worse about myself.  I AM a strong individual, with goals and motivations, but somewhere over the course of these last six years, I misplaced those goals and motivations, and replace them with an obsession with caring for others.  I didn’t see this as the case at first, but I noticed some patterns beginning to emerge in my interactions with people.  I would become moody and morose when I wasn’t able to see people that I cared about as often as I would have liked, and the amount of time and energy I put into relationships did not match what other individuals would put into those relationships.  I’m not talking about material things here, I’m talking about time and effort and love.  These things were all that I ever wanted to give.  And all I wanted was to be loved back, but I was slowly discovering that my expectations were getting in the way, because I was putting forth so much energy and not receiving the same amount of energy in return.

Does an individual actually require the same amount of energy and effort in a relationship? I find this question difficult to answer, because a person’s expectations of what is truly occurring and what they think is happening, are two very different perspectives.  And romantically, men and women are very different.  In my case, I was discovering that my mindset and worries were overtaking my sense of self and sense of my relationship.

I don’t think it was that I hadn’t heard from him, it was that I was fixating so much on my relationship and not on enjoying myself outside of my relationship.  I had become extremely concerned about taking care of him and lost the concern for myself on an emotional level.

I would sit and stress about not having heard from my boyfriend (he would usually eventually call) and clung to the thought that I had done something terribly wrong.  It’s an awful feeling, even though I knew that I hadn’t done anything wrong, my negative awareness of myself and my thoughts was almost too much.  I had become obsessive compulsive in my thinking because of fears of what had happened in previous relationships.  (And everyone knows that allowing old relationships to cloud your view of present ones is disastrous)

What I was discovering, was that my own insecurities of fear, and loss and disappointment from times past had overwhelmed my self of sense worth.  I thought for certain that I was some sort of guilty party, that I wasn’t worth all that I am.  How could he be in love with me? I asked myself in the beginning of our relationship.  He reminded me, how could he not? He sees me as an amazing person.

And I do know, for the record, that I have amazing capabilities for helping others to heal emotionally.  I do know that I am an excellent communicator and writer and artist.  My skills are not perfect, and they are growing all the time, but what I now that I’m struggling with, is something that might take me a lifetime to get over.  I have already recognized that some of the negative thoughts creep back in, despite the fact that I’m more aware of the problem now.  My goal is to see myself as an amazing person, to see the beauty that my friends see in me, and appreciate it on a healthy level.  And to come back to the things that I love, to read, write, and be creative as I once was on a regular basis.  I truly believe I will feel fulfilled if I am true to myself and love the person that I am, not be dependent on the love of others.  Being loved by others is important, but you cannot truly love others until you love yourself.

I am working on a plan to ease this mind-struggle and internal pain, but I know it will be a process.  I found a quote about a week ago, that I took down on a sticky note at work, and I am going to share it with you here.

“Failure will never overtake me if my desire to succeed is strong enough.” -Og Mandino.

This quote inspires me to keep at this battle because I know I have beautiful things in my life that I want to accomplish.  I know have amazing qualities as an individual and if I continue on a path of not recognizing my own self-worth, I will continue to be unhappy, and what’s the point in that?

At so many points in my life I felt like some people pushed me forward in a positive way and others were negative and condescending.  What I find ironic is how much attention I paid to the negative criticism.  On some levels, in terms of writing, it’s constructive, but on others, it becomes detrimental to an individual’s well being.  How did our society get this way? How did many of us become so self-loathing?

Sadly, I think our world encourages these states of being into fruition.  They fixate on “beauty” and “popularity” in media and everything else, and comparing ourselves in such a way that instead of comparing in a positive way, for example, “I love this, and oh you love it too! Let’s hang out!” It’s become more of, “I look this way and you look that way, and because of that, we can’t be friends.” It’s terribly sad and disgusting to me, and the actions are so ruthless, thoughtless, senseless.  I’m not sure how being human is positive when we act in that manner.

We need to be a more positive world.  We need to change that negative view of ourselves and encourage those who are hurtful to others to learn where that anger comes from and try to better themselves and love themselves so they don’t harm others anymore.

And I’m going to help out personally, by trying to better MYSELF in a positive way and to learn to love myself.  Sounds simple, but it isn’t always easy.

Concluding thoughts?

Stay strong, friends.  You are enough.  You are MORE than enough!

Love, Peace and Blessings,

CSCEnglishbabe ❤

So I am having Oatmeal for lunch because my lunch I made the night before did not taste good.  Very weird.

Oatmeal is not a bad lunch, but I’m grateful I didn’t choose to have it for breakfast this morning because that would have been a bit weird.  My stomach has been off and on feeling uncomfortable.  Also weird.  It’s been a weird twenty-four hours.  I say twenty-four hours because yesterday afternoon, my stomach started feeling all strange, out of sorts.  And today I feel a little weird too.  Ever since this stomach bug my digestive system has been on the fritz! And I had a weird dream last night.  (not about stomachs or bugs, but honestly, it was WEIRD.)

Okay, now I’m being ridiculously silly.

I do have a tendency to be silly, but I blame this on my upbringing of Star Wars, Muppet-related shows, and in later teen years, Monty Python.  The truth is, life happens, and we need to occasionally be silly in order to survive through difficult times.  I have learned from personal experience, that too much anger, sadness or seriousness lead to stomach problems.  (See above) and other common health concerns, i.e. anxiety, depression, etc.

“But I thought you had a stomach bug!” You say, to yourself as your reading this blog.

Yes, initially I did have the stomach flu last week, but having an underlying problem with IBS (officially diagnosed in 2011) is as a result of stress since I was a teenager.  Moral of the story?  Stop stressing yourself out, and if you feel like you can’t, look to the people around you.

People around you should stop stressing you and other people out, and making them feel like they have to please in order to succeed and feel loved.  Sure, leaving good impressions and doing well at work is important.  But why should a person have to question whether they are loved? Or appreciated?  Why should we have to feel like our parents love us less because of a C- we got on an assignment.  That seems to be a no-brainer answer to me, but so many people want to harm their children by pasting preconceived notions and expectations on them.

After that, many are convinced they have to please and live life to please others rather than taking care of themselves.  Usually that causes you to feel empty and alone after a time.  Sure, you feel happy that you helped for a time.  But then you say to yourself after the fact, sure that was awesome, but why do I feel so exhausted, and why do I feel unhappy?

Am I discouraging people from helping others? Absolutely not.  Do I think we need to care a little more about our personal happiness? From someone who spent a good portion of her life focusing on making others happy, I am definitely exhausted.  It’s important to help others, but if you have not helped yourself first, how will you be of full service to others who may need you?

Still not convinced? Check out this article:

http://feedblitz.com/f/?fblike=http%3a%2f%2ftinybuddha.com%2fblog%2f3-tips-to-escape-the-perfectionism-trap-and-feel-good-enough%2f

a good piece of writing that further explains the perspective of my blog post…

And so our first official New England Blizzard has hit us, and they named it “Nemo” —either after Captain Nemo from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, or from the awesome Pixar Film about a clown fish, also named Nemo.  As an English major, I’m sure there are other literary references I should be aware of, but I’m a bit tired, haven’t been sleeping well and am finally feeling somewhat normal after a stomach bug hit me early in the wee hours of Thursday morning. 

Who needs a body cleanse when you can get a stomach bug? Bad joke, I know, but since I’m the butt of it, it’s okay, I think.  😛

So aside from gross topics like stomach bugs, this storm stopped a few of my plans in their tracks.  I was super excited to give my sweetie his Valentine’s gift.  (He was supposed to come up this weekend) The combination of the storm and my illness and the fact that he was recovering from a cold that he still hadn’t entirely kicked, made him feel it wasn’t the best time to come up.  I totally understood, I wouldn’t have wanted my stomach bug either, and I really didn’t want his cold, and to be honest, I would have worried most if he had driven up in this mess, but it didn’t make me miss him any less.  I had a few pouty hours Thursday night and Friday morning, but I knew it was partly me being physically sick that wasn’t helping.  Cest la vie, I think they say in France, but forgive me for not having the accents…I took five years of German.

Sooo work was cancelled due to the awful mess that Nemo made, or was planning to make, it wasn’t totally a blizzard till Friday afternoon, and to be honest, I was grateful to have the extra day to recover.  I don’t think if I had had to wait to use the bathroom at work, that it would have been pretty.  Sure, you might laugh, but we all know how stomach bugs work.  They aren’t fun and nobody ever wants to clean up bodily fluids, even their own. 

Okay, I really have to get off the topic of stomach bugs, but yes, yesterday, I felt much better and today I am feeling even more like myself, however my sleep patterns have worsened.  I tend to sleep 3-4 hours, wake up, and have the darndest time falling back to sleep.  When I finally do, usually it’s time to get up for work.  Luckily, today is a snowy Saturday, so I am quite happy not to have to go to work as I don’t think I would be pleasant with this lack of sleep. 

It’s odd, with this continuous lack of sleep, I have had the bizarre gift of remembering a large portion of my dreams most nights.  Except the night of the stomach bug, for obvious reasons, and as the weeks passed, the dreams got progressively stranger.  Some reflected fears of things I have in real life, like spiders, which also tend to recur in my dreams anyway, but others were of weddings, one seemed to be of a past life, and I even was talking to a parent on the phone in my latest dream.  They were upset about something, not sure what.  And I had a difficult time answering their question.  It was like I was half present in the dream, and half not.  The “half not” part, was probably my brain anticipating my alarm.  Good logic.  It was.  Not a moment later, the Marimba ringtone from my iPod danced me to a waking state. 

I’m so smaaawwwt! as they’d say in Boston.  It’s okay, I can make fun of Bostonians, as I’m from Massachusetts, grew up in a Massachusetts public school system, and now date a wonderful man who says “draws” instead of “drawers”.  Really, it’s perfectly fine, and I’m sure I’ll pay for it later.  He’ll tickle me till I beg for mercy…or something.