I got off work early

I left work early today. I got in the elevator. The doors shut. I threw my hands in the air and went "Woooooo."

I got out of the building, felt a piece of garbage in my pocket and crossed the street looking for a garbage.  I saw the trash can at the same time a crowd of people was coming towards me.  I turned my body, just averting bumping into some man.  At the same time my hand extended and I threw what was now a ball of paper. It hit the side of the trash can, it circled half the rim then went in.  The guy I almost bumped into said "nice shot," exactly what I was thinking. I gave him a toothy grin and said "thanks!" I then ran into the train to avoid making more conversation.

I went into the train, the express which means I'll have to walk about a mile to get home. But it's all good, I have a pint of sorbet in the fridge.

Everyone was all smiles in the train.  

TGIF!

I use to believe in "Turtle Power!"

I wanted to choose a turtle as my picture for this blog, but I couldn't find any that was just right. In general, I've always liked turtles.

I think my love of turtles started with The Teenage Mutant Nunja Turtles. I remember begging my mother for a turtle, just to forget about it after a few days of bringing it home.

The funny thing is how resilient turtles are in general. Everyone always talks about how turtles can just about live forever, but maybe that's because they are pretty strong little reptiles.

We got the turtle and put it in the tank for maybe a bit. After that my older brother and I had to take it out to touch it and play with it. Yeah, this was definitely no dog but when you're a kid you always want to touch stuff. It must be nuts to have no sense of touch. I mean, we may rely on all our senses, but I feel that kids rely even more on their sense of touch. That's why you need to hide all delicate stuff from kids, because of their innate need to touch new things.

So, we got the turtle and just let it loose in our small New York City apartment. The turtle, whose name I completely forgot, then disappeared. It went around the house as if it was in some South American beach, just completely free. We'd see it pop up all over the house: in the bathroom, in the kitchen, sometimes it'd meander by the livingroom while we were watching cartoons. It was completely carefree. I suppose we weren't the best pet owners. Sometimes we'd put it back in the tank, just to let it loose again within a couple of days.

You'd wonder what a turtle eats in a New York City apartment when not fed. I wonder too. I've always imagine that the poor thing was just stuffing itself with led, or sheetrock scraps, or even cockroaches (though I don't think turtles eat cockroaches). Needless to say, eventually the turtle disappeared and was never seen again.

We got one more turtle after that, it didn't fare any better.

I kept watching "The Teenage Mutant Njnja Turtles." I loved that show. My favorite was Michael Angelo. He was just so cool, so California, so American. I've always found it funny how some people think that immigrants have no interest in assimilating. Maybe some of us can't because of religious reasons, they get here when they're too old, or sometimes fear in general. As for the majority of us? We can't wait to shed out fobbiness!! (FOB= Fresh off the Boat) I mean, I still get happy when people comment on how I have absolutely no accent (which is not true, I'm sure I sound like some "valley girl" sometimes).

I learned English by watching cartoons. I'd sing along the opening songs to every Disney Afternoon cartoon: Duck Tails, Chip n Dale, Gummy Bears. Looking back on it, Im certain now it took me a while to get the lyrics. But it didn't matter that I didn't understand everything, I was in cartoon heaven. I guess it's the same reason why people watch Spanish soaps and variety shows, though the half naked women dressed to the 9 and gesturing like they were puppets has little to do with it.

I was in the train

On the way to work this morning I just started writing.

So, I decided to sign up for a public blog, for many reasons. One being what I wrote below while riding the train to work today. I think maybe if I try to put more of my thoughts down then that will help, at least that's what I always hear people say so I figured I'd try it.

The blog has to be public, to satisfy the narsarssist in me. ( I'm currently reading "The Culture of Narcissism." More on this particular book to come) But it absolutely has to be anonymous because generally I'm ashamed of some of my thoughts and they also make me feel guilty. I was raced Catholic, so that right there explains the whole guilt thing.

Here it is:

I am so angry and in so much pain that a lot of times I just want to hide. That's why I seek friends and lovers, I want them to help push the anger and pain away. I feel lonely when I don't feel pain or anger at the surface, and at those moments I find myself looking for friends or lovers to help me. I think I want a guy to love me but maybe I just want someone, anyone, to cure me from the pain.

Trying to push the pain away I sometimes hurt myself. I starve myself because I think I can't get friends or lovers because I'm so fa. Mind you, most would say I'm not fat, but I deep down don't believe this because I'm just not as skinny as I want to be. I hate my fatness and myself for making myself fat. When I lose any weight then anything sets the pain off and I binge eat. I eat when I'm lonely. I eat when with friends. I try to control how much I eat but generally I have no breaks. I can control my eating when I'm starving myself. So either I don't eat or I eat a whole lot. I don't understand how to eat normally. I don't even know what that is. I think I use to know. I think in college I knew. But even then I remember starving myself.

I never thought of starving myself till elementary school. My mother use to say I was fat so I couldn't be her daughter. My cousin, who was super skinny, should be her daughter or was more like her daughter, she use to say. So I started not touching the school lunches. I'd have maybe the fruit cocktail. Even that was too much. I'd go home and refused to eat because I ate so much at school. Still I couldn't resist the cookies, icecream, all the sugar filled crap. This sweet tooth is the worse. Sometimes I think I'm going to get diabetes, and sometimes I want to get diabetes, I think then I'll control my eating sweets.

I know all this sounds really fucked up, and maybe I am. I sometimes think I'm a real nutcase, then I get some revelation from my friends and feel better. It sucks to feel better about yourself because other people are suffering, or are kind of crazy, but I do.