Ok. So on the label of the bite-size mini brownie box, there should be sea salt on top, and caramel filling inside. There is an illustration of said description complete with the golden luscious filling…
There was no caramel filling.
So in short I just finished my first week back at school and have been chasing paperwork and Drs and various people for weeks to get stuff done. My workweek with the “extra-curricular” medical and financial stuff will not be pau until SUNDAY NIGHT. There is no rest for the gorgeous.
Go ahead, ask me how I know.
Anyways I actually had chocolate because I am… STRESS BLEEDING. Either that or I’m being knifed in the pelvis. It’s a tossup.
I was pretty sleepy today because I took Ambien for the first time last night. I had crazy dreams about a vampire woman who wanted to become a cannibal and yeah it was actually pretty terrifying and for some reason my guyfriends were there being so unhelpful watching me try to escape uno tres leches, just me. Like scuse me I thought you were my friends and now in dreamworld you watch me trying to escape from the demonic blonde- heck. Of course she was blonde. All their girlfriends are blonde. ANYWAYS I slept through the night even though there was plenty of vampires and blood and gore. I wasn’t too phased though. After you have PTSD for 2 1/2 years the panic button in your brain just doesn’t go for vampire attacks.
However when I watch Nemo, and
That is one of the exceptions.
So I get to class and take notes and inbetween listening to the teacher and nodding like I get it I am writing down every single task that needs to happen just this week. 2 pages later, I got it sorted out. Then I pick which ones to do today. And then by the time that’s over I have my next class. I only had 2 classes today and between those classes I finished my job application paperwork- I am a figure model for the graphic arts department but I wish I danced at the Polynesian Cultural Center because I already get too many body comments as it is. Now people are going to stand around and draw it. I hope they don’t suck or I might bust a canvas.
But then I started feeling not just like I was dozing off. I started to get that feeling. Anyone who has had a period, you hear the Jaws theme, and then you have that moment of revelation. Your favorite panties? Massacred. Your jeans? Shoot. I wore the white ones?! OF COURSE YOU DID. You’re a woman! And once a month you get kicked in the balls in the name of fertility and the continuation of humankind.
I have cramps so bad I get dizzy and black out and sometimes I’m too weak to move without throwing up- I always wanted to do a rent a football player business so once a month a woman can pay for a big strong man to carry her around the house and bring her her ibuprofen and craving foods. I also wouldn’t mind paying a guy to be my fake boyfriend either. No shame, ladies. If you’re single no-one else even sees the bill.
Anyways it started out like aching feeling sick pain and then I started to feel like I was being knifed in the pelvis. I was STRESS BLEEDING. I have only stress bled one other time in my life and even for my drama, that was a bad week.
Honestly same time I was hurting, my older sister went into labor so as she is in AZ having her baby I am in HI bleeding and cramping a month before my period was supposed to come. And the kicker? I am on birth control.
If it was anyone else I would be like whaatt how?! But because it’s me I just shrug and say All right then. I guess I am going to call a Dr tomorrow. Better safe than sorry.
So yeah. School. 2 pages of paperwork and contracts for service dog. Trying to find a guitar by next Tuesday for a class or the teacher will drop me and I need those credits for my major AND my scholarship. And I have had several appointments through the week leading up to Sunday.
But because I am awesome despite the fact that I wanted to curl into fetal position and bawl like any mature adult would do, I went to my school’s nonprofit GivenTake which is where people donate things and if you work for them for 30 minutes they let you pick out 10 items. I got hangers, a Fijian dress( I have presentations for Pacific Island Studies and we have to have authentic costume), and a little blue dress.
Then I came home, watered my roma tomatoes, planted some tomatillo seedlings, and did laundry and unpacked some more. I also helped a guyfriend with his internship application and did some cooking.
Actually I had a fit over a few things today. One of them was the cooking. There is this ramen, and they want you to cook the noodles seperately from the soup! You mix the soup in your bowl and then add the cooked noodles into your bowl! WHHAATTT I know. Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any harder, ramen got complicated.
The other fit was I met another Tongan guy and he has brown eyes but it’s a brown amber color. It’s kinda golden. ANYWAYS so like any normal person he is properly introducing himself and I cock my head to the side and stare at his face without blinking for a few minutes while I try to decide what color his eyes actually are.
He has the same eye color as another guyfriend LeSquire. His last name is French and I don’t speak French so LeSquire will be his pseudonym. I told the guy I had just met he had a unique color brown in his eyes and I knew another guy with that color. Then I told him if he wants to see what I mean about the color being unusual to just call LeSquire up and spend some time staring into each other’s eyes.
He was very impressed.
As in, I am sure I made an impression. I just don’t know if it’s the kind that leads to rubber rooms or not.
I actually just came back from a school dance. My guyfriends tell me “Don’t worry about learning polynesian dance. Just dance from your heart.”
I learned to dance in highschool… From the black girls.
The guys haven’t seen me dance that way before and tonight I made sure to keep it that way. My makeup looked amazing though and one of my guyfriends did see that. It was $$$ the one who has that thing called subtlety which I think 99% of the Polynesian men in my life were born without.
Example: I didn’t visit him and my guyfriends at work for a week and I asked “Hey, did you miss me?”
And he looks at me solemnly and says
“It felt like an eternity.”
My friend Sio, Jr, Apple, newbie, Brock, Sinamani Pani, Sione, Sione, Sione, ETC. Yeah, nope!
Then again I also suffer the same defect. I am in good company.
I love dancing so much. It’s just so much focus. You have to think about the music. The movements you make. The people moving around you. 100% focus.
Watcha gonna watcha gonna do wit dat dessert
See that’s my kinda song. But then they played Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars and I just snapped. Crowded dark rooms with people all around is hard on my post-traumatic stress disorder. I am hypervigilant and if someone bumps into me from behind it can turn ugly fast.
Anyways that slow song came on and people started partnering off. And I remembered that one time I danced with KT. He was a punk. I didn’t want to dance with him anyways but a church leader at the church dance was like “Boy why aren’t you dancing with this lovely young lady?”
Yes older Caucasian people talk like that. Allow me to translate.
“Ay, why ain’t you dancing with her? She finnee bruh.”
And he literally lay back on the edge of the stage he had been sitting on and groaned like a dying man.
(Which, if I had actually wanted to dance with him, would have been the perfect choice for what was about to go down next)
And his little brother Dawg pulled him up and said “Go dance with her.”
And I was backing away. I got his # after that and a year later, it saved my life.
I was standing there, bright lights, fog, everyone around me in motion, and the switch flicked. I walked home crying my eyes out. Loss physically hurts man.
I was so hurt and also so angry. He walked out of my life over a year ago. 2 years ago this March, not that I remember. Just remembering him and that one time I got to hug him and he was the only person I ever felt that with. Wholeness. Like I was complete.
I know for most people, one hug means nothing, but I’ll write you that story next and then you’ll know what it meant to me. You’re gonna cry. I promise.
And you might also want to beat him up. Most of the men in my life who hear me talk about him ask where he lives and when he’s home- good thing he’s not in the country currently because when the guys see me hurt over him, they get feisty. And the girls who hear my story with him just put their hands to their heart and go awww. Or the other response “no, I totally get it. That’ true love.”
His nickname is King. Btw. 😐
Anyways my sore tired broken beatup body is going to sleep. I have hula at 7:00 and it is 12:19am.
Buy yourself some tissues to have on hand for the KT post. You’re gonna need ’em.
*also, if anyone is going to rough him up, I am first in line and I am Queen. Don’t mess with me.*