Made in Ecuador

On a slightly more lighter note, I went putt putt golfing today with my brothers and ms. giggles. It was really fun, even thought it was over 80 degrees and all I wanted to do was read a book and drink cool seltzer water (mmm mmm!) I actually had fun, nano and me laughed at yoyo hitting a ball to a small pond and ms. giggles hitting the ball too hard (it usually hit the rocks and came back to the starting point. I actually beat them! I love to be active and be outdoors, but I wouldn’t say that I’m a natural at sports; especially ones that require good eye-hand coordination. And it doesn’t help when I’m around my brothers, they usually make me nervous. But today it was different, I ignored their comments, laughed at some and definitely laughed at what they did.

maybe my chickadee and sweet mango would want to play ^_^

I realized after talking with my sweet mango that I didn’t finish my thoughts in an earlier post about my expectations. Overall I’m learning that I can’t assume to I know what my family and other people think or want from me. It creates such intense and unnecessary pressure, which strains my confidence. I want to stop this negative cycle that seems to sneak up on me two times a year. All I can do is let go of that self-made pressure to please others and meet their demands. Then I can do what I want to do and not have that nagging feeling that I’m letting someone down. The only person I think I let down when I let myself get bogged down by these insecurities is-me.

Not really. But it’s so f#cking cute. I’m posting this for my blue days. Thanks to my chickadee for posting this ^_^

I realize that it has been a long time since I’ve posted anything.  I still can’t get used to posting on a daily basis, probably because I feel pressured to do it, which I know is ridiculous because apart from myself,  no one is giving me a deadline.  Anyways only one word can describe my parents visit: enlightening.  I know you’d think I would have written: tense, hectic, dramatic, traumatic, frustrating- all negative words.  I can’t blame you since most of the time when I talk about my family, these are the prominent emotions.

On our trip to San Francisco (I need to visit that city for a longer time and preferably when it’s not raining) I felt like I wanted to tear my hair out.  I’ve realized where I get my controlling and bossy nature (dad), my dramatic flair (mom), my need to poke people (younger brother), my desire to be the best (older brother) and from all of them I get the need to better myself everyday, to read, discuss mundane and controversial issues (although not with them).  In other words, reader, you could say that I may have to swallow my words.  In a previous post, I said that I am the black sheep of my family that I felt like I don’t belong.  While those feelings haven’t disappeared, I’ve realized that I do have things in common with my family, inherited some of their characteristics and can safely say that I’m beginning to to understand them.  If nothing else, I’ve learned how to handle them.

Hahaha I know that this makes them sound like wild animales, this is not my intention.  They’re good people and chance has made them my family.  As much as they drive me crazy, I love them.  This does not mean that we are the Partridge or some kind of Brady Bunch- let’s not get all mushy and gushy.  I don’t expect them to love me or understand me just because I’m their daughter/sister.  Except my mami, my family has no clue as to my world view, my insecurities and my passions.  And that’s okay.   I’ve come to expect that from them, which is unfair and frankly unrealistic.  This brings up the obvious question,  where did I get such an idea?

About 5 years ago, you could say my parents got separated.  Needless to say, it destroyed a couple of naive views I had on marriage and parent roles.  Since I was a kid, my family was known and called, “the perfect family” and I bought it.  I believed it and I looked at my parents as infallible.  I know I set myself for disappointment.  I know that they never told me this but I looked up to them as the foundation of our family that could do no wrong.  Naive, naive, soooo naive- I know.  For that reason, I’m glad that that happened, not that I didn’t tell either of my parents off for how they were dealing with this.  Ultimately, however, I learned that my parents are allowed to make mistakes, they’re not saints and for me to give them that pressure was unfair.

Writing this I see that even though I learned that, I kept having other expectations from them and from myself.  I expected them to love me and above all support my decisions.  Yet how can they, if they don’t know me?   I write the previous statement in present tense, because I know my family doesn’t understand/know me.  That’s partly my fault, I can shy away from sharing myself; create a wall between everyone and myself.  I also keep expecting myself to be perfect, applying this created pressure to be successful and extraordinary, hence why as an unemployed woman- it’s easy to feel like a loser (that’s for another post).

I want to end this post before I use the word expect again.

It seems like all I do is vent about my older brother.  Frankly I’m tired of trying to figure out why he acts the way he does.  I nearly lost it today when my boyfriend was over for lunch and my family, mainly my brother, were being jerks.  These last couple of years, living so close to my family, remind me why when I left for college I rarely came back.  I feel invisible around them.  I feel like in order to survive and not have a breakdown I need to shut down.  I can’t be myself around them.  I am the black sheep.

Today I sobbed for the first time in years.  Sure I’ve cried before but today it was the kind where you whole body shake and you just release.  I felt better afterwards because I accepted the fact that I am an outsider in my home, my family and that’s okay.  I’ve realized that I’ve been pushing for my family to accept me, like me and my friends and my boyfriend.  When in reality they don’t really.  They’re not horrible people, and they are there for me in emergencies.  It hurts because to me family is very important.  It’s the most important thing. Yet I acknowledge that I’ve been pushing these people to care/like me, I’ve been forcing myself to act a certain way in order to gain their approval and acceptance.

You might wonder why I don’t tell them all of this, share my feelings, but what would that do?  Besides giving them more ammo to use against me, it would just reaffirm their view of me: an emotional, overly sensitive woman.

A year ago I made a huge effort to build some kind of relationship with my dad.  I’ve always been resentful towards him the most and I wanted to change that. I wanted to let the bitterness go, truly forgive and forget and start new.  We aren’t the best of friends but I can talk with him on the phone for more than 5 minutes.

Now, however, I don’t feel the same.  I think about why he didn’t make the first step.  Why did it have to be me?   The conclusion I reached is that it’s because I’m the one who cared the most.  I’m the one who wanted to have some kind of relationship.  Not him.

I’m tired and the tears are starting to come again because it hurts.  It hurts to want to love and care about someone and want to have some kind of relationship but they don’t want it.  I know and have accepted that I’m trying to hard and I need to stop.  I’m letting this consume me and break me, when I need to accept it, know that I’m going to be okay and in the end I do have people in my life who truly love me.

I haven’t come to a final decision, what I can say is that I cannot stay here in OR, or anywhere in the West Coast.  I need to go somewhere far away, maybe another country.  I need a break from my family.  Rebuild my confidence and when I am healed and 100% economically dependent, then I can face them.  I need to be stronger in order to no let what they say knock me down and the only way I can do is to be far away from them as possible.

I have to get this off my chest, before I gouge my eyes out or shoot myself in the face- I hate living/being around my older brother. He is the biggest asshole in the world and I do not understand what I did/do to deserve to be treated the way I am around him. Before last night and this afternoon I would have said that my brother and I have an awkward relationship, which is normal since we’re from different generations, we grew up in different cultures and we have opposite personalities. But now I believe he enjoys, just plain eats up either embarrassing, humiliating, and/or making fun of me. I’ve had enough and the thing that kills me the most is that I have to be nice to him, because he’s my brother, and he’s a boy and that’s how brothers act with sisters. Really? They’re suppose to be assholes? I’m also starting to believe he hates me or I did something that really pissed me off so I’m going to pay for it until I’m 50. Write more later.

Today I turn 25. I am a quarter of a century old. To be honest, I don’t really feel different. After my 21st birthday, I don’t feel like I’m getting older. That doesn’t mean that I lie about my age, I don’t mind getting older. I think the reason I’ve been freaking out about this birthday is because I’m now considered an adult. What a mouthful. In a previous post I stated that I never wanted to become an adult, not because I want to be a kid forever and avoid responsibilities. I love taking care of myself and crave to be 100% economically independent. However, from observations and discussions with adults, I’ve found that most [adults] accept the monotonous routine of life- going to work, cleaning/organizing, going out etc. There is no real reflection on their lives, their goals or themselves. I know that you need to pay your bills, mow the lawn, take care of your kids (if you have them) hence at the end of the day it’s nice to watch some TV and shut down your mind. BUT I don’t want that, I don’t want to fall into that pattern. That’s probably why I fear becoming older and doing adults “things” like getting married, getting a desk job. I don’t want to lose my passion of fighting and working for the Latino community. I don’t want to get sucked into a “normal” life. I just hope I don’t get so tired that I see the injustices in our world as inevitable.

Then again, I know that I am different from the general populace, I know I look at the world with different eyes and analyze it more critically. That may sound elitist, except I don’t think my lifestyle is for everyone. I just hate the fact that it’s judged and questioned by society. A friend of mine, who I hadn’t talked to in almost a year, called me today to wish me a happy birthday. Very sweet. Then we proceeded to talk about our jobs, families, and love lives. He asked me when I was getting married, I said I wasn’t. He responded, “Oh eventually, huh?” I replied “No, not getting married”. And this went on for a couple of more rounds. It’s interesting how because I don’t want to get married, I’m considered a freak, a weirdo, I know it’s because I’ma woman and even more so because I am a Latina woman. But that’s for another long post. Right now my mami is here and we’re going to eat cookies and catch up.

I’m so blessed ^_^

[Originally written: June 15th, 2008]

It’s soccerfest/soccermania in my house! It’s weird everytime I want to watch some Murphy Brown or Monk, I can’t because one of my brother’s is taping a soccer game. That’s fine I like to watch futbol, although it gets too intense for me, especially when Ecuador is playing. I don’t want the players to get fouled and I get mad when the referee makes a botched call >:I

I don’t know much about Ecuadorian futbol but we do have a pretty decent team- we’ve gone to the last two World Cups (dusting my left shoulder) hahaha anyways they’re (my brothers) fans-passionate, intense & loyal. I’m glad that they’re not obsessed to point of screaming obscenities at the TV or turning bright red when the referee doesn’t call offsides. Plus their love of futbol gives us an excuse to have friends over, drink cold beer and jump up and down when Ecuador makes a goal

[Originally written June 4^th, 2008]

The other night I was watching TV and saw a commercial for Pomegranate Raspberry Beer. That’s right, berry flavored beer. When did this become a trend? I’ve noticed in the stores there is lemon favored beer, trying to get an upper hand at the Corona with a slice of lime look. I’m not a beer connoisseur but this is a bad idea. Beer is not suppose to taste fruity and sweet, it’s suppose to be…it’s supposed to taste like… hmmm how to describe it?  Kind of bitter?  But not like grapefruit!  All I know is that it should complement salty, crunchy or fried food!   It’s supposed to be ICE cold and drunk on a hot summer afternoon, while lying in a hammock…on that note, I should remind my brother to hang up the hammock!

[Originally written: June 1st, 2008]

I love back rubs (I don’t get enough of them!), listening to Mana, dancing ( anything with a good beat and my hips just move). I also love massaging my mom’s head. She LOVES it and that makes me happy

I hate head rubs. That might not make sense since I like to give them, but they make my skin crawl! One time at a mall this random guy place an octopus head massager on my head and I screamed! He was embarrassed, I was mad! No one was a winner…