Happy New Year's Eve

It's December 31st. I've never been able to understand why we celebrate a New Year's in the dead of the winter, where there isn't that much to be happy, or celebrating about (other than the fact that I love taking long walks after midnight) and it's kind of difficult to detect any kind of change. I've always been more of a person who believed that New Year's should be moved to March or May to celebrate a new year with Spring, where actually a lot of physical changes happen which influences a lot of psychological changes in the human psyche. But, what do I know.

Well, loves, here is to a New Year that's better than the last, that brings us a step closer to understanding one another and a little bit stronger in order to achieve our personal and collective dream as a human being.

And here is to being happy with what you've got and with who you are. Accepting yourself.
Spending an entire evening, after a long day at work to sip champagne where we toast to all we've accomplished at such a short amount of time and to all that we aspire to build, achieve and bring about to this world.

Love,

Congratulations

I want to congratulate myself for nearly finishing the month of December and not letting go of things midway and change courses when I had settled on a particular course. It feels good to be able to finish things, days, and months. 

Determination

I've been wondering, how much do we get done, accomplished or understand by determination. Is determination and commitment related? If so, how closely? Can they be interchangeably used and still produce the same result, connotation, understanding and to be able to relate? Do we think of them differently? Do we analyze the words separately, independently, and the reactions they create in us? Do they get analyzed differently?

I am in general determined. Determined to make it in life, determined to go back to school, to get out of this rut, to make my relationship last and last happily at that, determined to make it in writing, determined to graduate from school, determined to have a career.

But I am not always committed to all of these ideals and goals together, simultaneously. Sometimes, I am not even committed to any one of them, exception of living and breathing. Sometimes, I end up being the least committed person and sometimes, I find that no one's commitment to one particular thing can come near mine. So maybe, in nature they are not the same things, perhaps things with affinity to one another, thought not exactly the same thing, like water, lake, river, sea and the ocean.

Mingled

The days like these are just too much. Warmth, intimacy and intellectual understanding. Life could not be better. But ask me again in the morning, when I have to wake up and go to work.

Until New Year's

So, the countdown isn't entirely over isn't it? Now, we're holding our breaths until the New Year's Eve and Day, in which we can begin a new, turn over the leave and find our silver lining to start fresh to the year, with all of this new understanding, solidified commitments and clear resolutions to lead better, bigger, healthier life. Is it going to make a difference though? Is it going to be better than last year? We'll we be better at making more realistic promises to ourselves and after having that frank conversation in our heads, we'll we do our best to make the alterations we need to make and keep making to change our lives for the better? Is it possible to do such things?

Why is it that we look for clear, physical manifestations of "New Me", "New Chapter", "New Life", "New Beginnings". I guess, it would be more properly called, physical manifestations of the changes we want to make. We wait for certain times of the year to change certain behaviors; to let go, to tighten, to love, to become recluses. We seek to interpret signs that aren't there, analyze random happenings as signs and think of ourselves as more intuitive, perceptive and that in total we have gained more insight to the matter we call life, when I've been thinking that I just make fool myself.

Why is it that we look for such things and find comfort in them?

The Day After Christmas

Well, now that Christmas is over, we can probably go back to the silence of the winter and keep actually working on our spirits for real?

Holidays are strange times of the year, where we focus so much on one or two particular aspects of religion that we forget the whole, the teachings and the lessons of them (or even this can be said of philosophies). We have to remind ourselves to keep up the good work and to work on our minds and souls throughout the year, not just a few weeks here and there in between to allow ourselves some goodnight, clean conscious sleep.

Now that Christmas is over, what do we do with ourselves?

Merry Christmas

And the last of the winter holidays are here. Now we'll be putting aside social functions, close our homes to social gatherings until about April, and everyone will be an introvert, focusing their minds on themselves, continually giving themselves an attitude check about how short the days are, how cold it is and how much more it's going to be snowing. We wonder about the cold and if humans were actually made to live in this cold, so far up north.

But today, hopefully everyone is warm, their belly full and their hearts in laughter. At least now, we all have hope for a better spring, and have been with family to celebrate the remaining of our humanity.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Simple

Can Miracles Happen? Because...my tunnel has finished and still, there is no sight of any kind of light.

Essential Library

It's disheartening to see how little I've read recently and how much my "To Read" list keeps growing, by the day. There are just so many great books out there that has already been published in so far past and has been continuously published with the ever changing technology, mitigating circumstances of people, societies, countries and the world in large. I feel lost in worlds and in a life long marathon I'll never be able to catch my breath.

All of these stories waiting to be read, to be reanalyzed, again and again, until someone comes to interpret it entirely differently so that our perspectives changes once more. And the stories we've read that leaves its traces in our soul, mapping out our reactions, our understanding and eventually when we turn the mirror to our inner worlds, how it changes us and how much it allows us to create a new thread to our own world, where we come to understand ourselves. Each book lights a new candle, illuminating a new world, a new sense, a new self and new emotions we never knew existed, or allowing us to finally communicate what it is that we've been feeling all this time. That's what cleverly crafted and well told stories do to us, individually and as large groups.

So my library looks at me, forlorn and looking forgotten, a little yellowed out, wondering their instability now, a future that looks no longer guaranteed in my little library.

Writing Space

My little desk, that's always cluttered, with an ever growing list of things to do, things to pay, things to manage and thing's to write. It never seems to lesson, or the space I clean up never seems to stay clean long enough to actually do wondrous writing on it. Or, any writing at all. For the past months, I can't seem to get past, everything I write is crap phase and it's not making my other wise dim any brighter.

One thing I do miss from living on my own is my abundant own space and writing space specifically as everything stood the way I left them, without an extra pair of eyes curious, wondering over my lists, things. I feel so violated sometimes that I just want to hide everything. And the daily needed use of check books, post it, index cards, pens and pencils and being easily accessible in our bedroom sometimes makes me the guilty part.

But, writing for me has always been a solitary act in which I've engaged in extreme privacy.

I continually need a space in which I can call my own, well lit, well organized and cleaned, without the treacherous, dirty hands of others to go through my sacred space. Everyone is different. I am not one of those grand people who can write anywhere, anytime, with anyone around. I need my mind to have been comfortable, my body to be well adjusted and my heart in it, having embraced where I am in order to write.

I like the door to be closed, rain drops hitting against the window and the soft voice of Melody Gardot to write efficiently, wholeheartedly and productively. I dream of the day where we have two bedroom apartment where I can have all of my books, notebooks with me, in the same room, and a door to close and lock from lecherous hands and lustful, dirty gazes.

Small Triumphs Cloaked as Big Triumphs in the Face of Bitch Goddess

There is some sort of comfort in having a plan and seemingly being able to pull it off. My mind is a bit more ease and it has given me just enough hope to try and get to that IMMEDIATELY MUST DO LIST. Though, unsure how of it I will ever get done...

To at least try feels like a big triumph for me.

Decisions

When coming to some sort of conclusion so obvious that it hurts you were unable to see it, coming to a decision process fastens up. Inevitably. So the decision is set. I am going to suffer willingly for a few more months when April comes along, I will smoothly transit over to another job. Perhaps, I'll do two jobs for a bit, as I train at the other place and gain some experience working there that I won't be suffering through any lost wages and income. After all, I am in this situation for the sake of "The Bitch Goddess" and we are in need of it's mercy to be merry to us so we can be fortunate enough to benefit from it's cheer and happiness.

And, I've come this far, I don't want to go back to negatives just as I've reached to a big fat ZERO.

In Conclusion

The conclusion we're coming upon after all of these blog posts about work, hindrance, capitalism is that money is a necessity. Then if money is a necessity, we all need to gain it and achieve it in order to survive. Since we all want to survive into the foreseeable future, with granted basic essentials and some luxuries, it's best we gain that money by some sort of talent, capability, trait we possess and also enjoy. Other wise, life seems too hellish. Doing something you don't enjoy, you feel is below you. It works all handy dandy in the beginning, because you're so desperate. Then you work hard, and not being appreciated, not making enough money after all of your trials, turbulances and the efforts you put into your job, it's maddeningly disappointing to look at your paycheck. It just does not break even. Then you begin to wonder, what is the point of all this frustration, bodily exhaustion, time hindrance, obscure obstacles, mind numbing? It's a silence that's not welcome in my soul that I can no longer allow to host.

Work at a job you can manage, you can tolerate and find some sort of small comforts that allows you to make through the day. Nothing could ever be as valuable as a peace of mind that once disturbed, cannot be bought simply by changing jobs or throwing loads of money on it.

Bitch Goddess: Money

At this point, I don't even know why I even write on here. It's not like I can sit down to coherently think about anything. Even these thoughts, it's like in jumbles, randomly. I can only feel the touch of the keyboard as I press my fingertips on each letter. Other than that, there is no feeling there. I am tired of the uninvited knowledge I am not privy too, I am tired of being blacked mailed about it and even more so, refusing to sink so low to do something about it. Though I suppose, I should have, when I began to see a pattern of abuse and misuse of power in the beginning. It's all too late now and I have this hollow, numb, harrowing, eccentric cavity. This cavity in my chest, this desire to fill the numbness of my fingertips, but inability to do so with any means I possess, it's all maddening. This winter is not going to be treating me well, I can see it.  All of this work is a hindrance.I really could have been writing, reading, critically analyzing something...or thinking in general.

I liked thing as they were settling down. I was comfortable, adjust, and moving forward with my master plan of life. All hail to the "Bitch Goddess: Money". Nothing like the need to eat to interrupt with the dream world of a writer who really would just like to be left alone to do her work.

Count Down to Christmas

As Christmas draws, I find myself impatient for the start of a new year. I've never been able to understand why new year is at the dead of winter, where everyone is too tired and too cold to even care about celebrating, and the night falls far too quickly and way too snowy to accommodate for traveling. Or really, for walking.

I know some people get fueled by the holidays, the count down to a new beginning, but I find myself reflecting, withdrawn, confused, internally disabled and well, stopped caring enough the markings on my calendar. Meaning, I just let go. I let go of myself, my house, my hobbies, and even those reflective emotions I've been festering leading up to this point in the calendar year.

I've been seeing the depression slowly creep up. I've perhaps been working too much--there is obviously no doubt about that--but even so, I've assumed this persona of a "Bitch Goddess" where I must make money and cloak myself out of this world, where I've become a sheep for the tax industry of the capitalist. Money in the long haul is a disenfranchising thing to think about, where it leaves me hanging and a harrowing chest pain, I can't seem to numb away with my awesome mind powers (that are nonexistent). Because really, my soul begins decaying and my body just tells me, kiddo, it's time to pick shit up. It never has preferably sat with me, or settled in, always leaving bitter after taste, although not as layered as a glass of

Cabernet Sauvignon. 

Secrets

S and I have decided to keep certain things a secret for the sake of smoother transitions, stop spread of rumors, gossips and too much interest into our private lives. I've never been immune to gossip, certainly, but I never have been able to understand the reasoning beyond probing questions some people like to ask, much to my chagrin and much to their pleasure. Personal life, matters, inquiries, should stay personal. It's been one point of principality I've always been proud of. It feels a hindrance to someone's personal freedom to ask so much about their life. I certainly don't like it when others ask me such questions. I never feel compelled to answer, neither do I feel bad (on rare cases I have had felt bad, though not often and not anytime as of late) but I never can relate to others gossiping about the fact that I don't like to gossip. It feels like a maze no one can get out of, and quite frankly, a waste of time, energy, brain cells and effort. Perhaps, I am too lazy to follow all social protocol, and a bit too lazy to engage in said protocols. Though, I always rather try to understand and would like to understand, somethings feel so bizarre to me, I am not sure whether I'll ever be able to create a link between the two of us and begin to establish a mutual foundation to stand on, in order to create understanding.

Sometimes, it's just better to keep secrets from everyone else.

Witness

Can you pretend you haven't seen something of significance, after, in fact you had? What responsibilities does one have to herself, her reason, her community and to the legal system at work perhaps? We tend to be ignorant of many things and avoid things we don't want to deal with, and pretend something doesn't exist so we don't have to confront it, or find a solution to a very real, threatening and exiting problem. But how much further should we go along with it? Should we not are, simply because others don't? And simply, should we care, because the masses do? Shouldn't causes and fights be near and dear to heart, to really be worth it, to really advocate for it and stand up for it, defending it, at all times and circumstances, with its flaws and shortcomings?

How do we go about changing the things we see, and how much should we hold other responsible to be impressionable to the things they witness to? How much people should change after initial and repeated witnessing accounts, experiences?

Blank Pages

I've really been itching to write. There is a story here, and there and much deeper. Each cell contains its own story that screaming out to be heard, only you can't hear it and I don't have the credentials to properly tell you the story.

I've been staring a lot at blank screens lately. I've been staring a lot at empty papers in front of me as well. Pen in my hand, and I keep saying to myself "I know I had something to tell, it was just at the tip of my tongue, where did it go?" Where did it go, indeed. This influx state of uncertainty, things happening, things not happening and the time moving so slowly that I dread mornings and the each passing moment.

One day, I woke up and realized how unhappy I have been at work, and how much I've let myself go, how much things have piled up and how long my to do list has gotten. All the things that are waiting for me to start, be decided on and get going...I wonder if I'll ever get to start any one of them at this point. My mind feels blank. I am so happy that S is here with me. If it wasn't for him and his meaningful, thoughtful conversations and his continuous encouragement, his understanding of life in general and me...I am not sure if I would have stayed as sane as I surprisingly still am.

Communication

In these past months, S and I have obviously learned much from one another and about one another. While many things generally mash, match up or line up well against one another in our habits, dreams and styles, a number of things are severely out of sync. That much is expected. While for the most part, we've been careful about our communication and the way we informed the other party about anything we wanted to. The inseminating of information is an art and, not everyone does it the same, nor is every path we take to it is equally efficient and capable.

Things up until recently have been in small doses and have been rather manageable much easier. This or that, we've hit some obstacles and we've learned to communicate for the better. I, for one have learned to be much more patient, much more careful and much more descriptive, as well as informative on how and when and why explain things. When I was younger, I had a bad habit of flaring up quickly, inability to take any kind of constructive criticism and without ever learning the truth and beauty of listening--but truly listening. Of course, I grew up from that little girl and have picked up listening habits that I had embraced along the way. Though, I truly come along way since then, it has been apparent that I still have ways to go. S, on the other hand has learned to be more reflective, thoughtful, detail oriented.  S never needing to learn to critically think and thoroughly assess his own life, mistakes, circumstances and the opportunities presented to him, he has never questions about the decisions he's made, actions he's taken and the opportunities he's been given, taken and those ones that he has unfortunately discarded. He's learned that people are also accountable for their viewpoints in life, such as; their thought patterns and the perspective they view gender, sex and romance from. Things that needs changing, tweaking and all together relearn.

Aside from the generalities, I've learned to cry in front of someone else and have learned to express my emotions both in the raw and censored as to help someone better understand me. This is a first and I am glad I've chosen the right person to do it with. S has learned that past carries undeniable consequences into the future that aren't just in our heads. We will all be held accountable for our past mistakes, in one way or another. The important thing is not to cause suffering towards our partner.

Christmas Decorations

I've put my own mini Christmas decorations up for a spread of the holiday cheer and to bring color to our otherwise awfully neglected apartment. Usually, I tend to be more home fixated and do various project at home. As that being said, I still don't particularly feel like this is my apartment. S has been living here for the past 3 years, before I came along. He shared this apartment with his ex roommate, who has now returned back to Azerbaijan. There have been a long number of partners brought in for the night, or the short term. The bed isn't mine. The bedroom isn't mine and the kitchen isn't mine. It feels like I made do, until we have to move, though we definitely don't want to move for now, considering we'd like to save the money.

It has disbursed the gray clouds hovering over our heads individually and the sunken mood we have of the continuous assaults on the integrity of our relationship. To bring the cheer of inability to spend quality time together and to rush through the night into bed and out of sleep in the mornings. Inability to communicate at all throughout the day, exception of perhaps one phone call around three o'clock.

To put in a little bit of red and green, perhaps hang a stocking or two will bring us closer to our apartment in hopes of making it a home. Considering I moved here as a temporary solution, which turned into a permanent residence, everything that was placed, was placed temporarily, became permanent without much thought. I didn't give it much thought, because as long as it was out of the way for the moment, it was good enough. Though obviously, it doesn't always work so well for longer term arrangements.

Hoping for holiday cheer and decoration to warm us all.

Time is of Essence

Time is of essence. I am a firm believer in that. It's a fluid, frigid, impossible to reverse, but possible to repeat, relive and always consumed thing. It is of essence, because we are all here on borrowed time that reminds us we are here, alive, but definitely not permanently. We eventually move on from here to wherever you believe there is next after here.

It's fluid, because we have the ability to relive several similar experiences. It's fluid because there are universal, or near universal experiences most humans go through at different times, but in their time on here. While one matures quicker, the other matures more slowly. Everyone's evolutions are their own, in their own pace and with their own lessons to learn. Some end up having to grow up fast, while others are granted a longer childhood with less responsibilities and less severe consequences.

It's frigid, because once we live through a second, a day, a month we unfortunately have lived it up and time, is up. It doesn't always give us a second chance, the thing we give away, we take and made to sacrifice, taken away from us, forcefully or violently, are never to be returned to us. For that it is frigid.

We consume it always, and its borrowed time, until eventually we run out of ability to borrow for any longer.

But time is of essence. We must do the things we must do, when we must, in order to accomplish and move on to the next stage, where we are meant to be.

Until then, keep moving.

Seasonal Music

It's hard to get into mood for seasonal cheer, when the weather is crappy, I keep receiving more gruesome stuff in my mail box, and I officially hate my job and find it absolutely not worth it.

But, it is nice to listen to Christmas Music, especially when it's snowing or raining. The lights are up at everyone's house and the decorations are so flattering this time of the year. It makes me feel warm inside, and I guess at this point in the year, is exactly what each and everyone of us desire. Hot chocolate, ciders and eggnog and mint lattes. Sweaters, here we come for the next several months.
Christmas music, thank you. You're the only thing that gets me through my unending days at work. I am thankful for your existence.

It's time to read Charles Dickens and his Christmas novels. To the wonderful, joyous world of literature and Dickens' possessiveness and sexism.

Not feeling upto work

It's a Sunday and I have to work again. Just going there takes me an hour and a half, and I get sent home, which makes little difference and yet, still with no money. I don't even know why I bother at this point.

Also, having written a negative entry about work the previous night obviously does not help. I don't want to wake up in a few hours to go to work to spend three hours on transportation to walk away with 20 dollars at the end of the night. Four dollars alone is the cost of me getting to and from work.

There has to be a cost-benefit analysis to these things. Other wise, it's just not worth it anymore.

Isolation

Between waking up early and coming home near midnight to wake up early once again, I feel I've been left isolated, barren and bereft. Sure, I see my coworkers every single day for the past God knows how long. It is true I on a daily basis interact with strangers. But these engagement of other human beings is meaningless, impotent and brief. I have nothing to talk about with my coworkers, who are more attuned to who is hotter of the customers, which ones are to make fun of, and which criminal stories to tell. The number of meaningful conversations are nearly nonexistent with customers who are simply there to get there food, pair it with a great glass of wine and enjoy it over a thoughtful and engaging conversation with whomever it is they came with. They hardly notice you as a waitress and couldn't care less about you (naturally). On the off case that the customer is actually interested in engaging in a conversation, you're so busy that you couldn't be bothered, because really, you have to take their red lentil soup out, replenish drinks, open a bottle of wine and to take the right food to the right table. For someone who likes to share, converse and go into detail about various topics and things, I feel handicapped and that my voice has been ripped right from my throat. Also, seeing no one else to engage in other human activities, has left me feeling isolated like, I don't even exist, no matter what I do won't matter, where I go I'll continue to be invisible and my dreams are floating miles further away into the other end of the universe.

Working too much, with severe working conditions, expected responsibilities that must be fulfilled with obligated duties and long hours leave little to no time for one's self and life in general. I like having that quiet time to myself where I can unwind and let my thoughts roll off as they develop and hit a corner of milestone or in need of more information. I like doing various activities that engages the body and the mind. I barely have time to pick up the pen and write. Doing these blogs sometimes is my only escape, however insufficient at most. Because all these characters, cluttering through my mind are awaiting for an outlet to escape, but instead they keep being bottled up and everyday it grows more crowded until it falls silent due to over exhaustion.

It's impossible to be an island to yourself indefinitely.

Transgressions

Sexual and romantic relationships differ in their nature, duration and emotions invested in the relationship. The commitment bestowed and achieved are always unequal. There is inherently something unequivocal and imbalanced about them, since the dawn of humanity x thousands of years ago. One would think, it was especially so in the past, where there were wider and greater gender gaps on treatment of love and relationships. In my very modest, very unscientific opinion, this still greatly holds true. But it isn't just about gender. I see that a lot of men can end up with the muddy end of the stick, and sometimes it's women. It's about who holds the power in the relationship and the way circumstances lead to and begin a relationship.

In this one relationship I have witnessed that has been continually campaigning against my very being, soul, existence and relationship. It is true, I have been hearing everything from someone who has EVERYTHING to lose. I believe the story is being skewed in many lights, where I continually have to ask and ask and ask again the same question from many different angles to get to the truth of it. It's an onion anecdote applies here. The more I peel, the more that comes out and the more I feel violated and that there has been gross accounts of violations. Though the further I investigate, the further I am disgusted and revolted by everything that has transpired and the moral, ethical transgression are reprehensible.

The truth, no matter is hidden in shadows, crooks, misunderstandings, atmosphere and circumstances. Women, should never be ashamed of being sexually or otherwise, bold, assertive and even initiative. Sexuality, romance, initiative taking should be celebrated and never be punished for it. However, I feel that blurring the lines along two people in which one over the other has clear responsibilities, trust, power over in terms of potion and respect should never be allowed and should never go unpunished. I am sorry that sometimes things don't work out. It certainly is not my fault that I came along the picture. I think it's usually obvious when someone has no intention of being with you when you're ignored and blocked several months at a time. I think it's a signal to take for a woman who is seeking more out of the company of another human being. Unfortunate, we don't always do the right thing for our heart, instead get our prides stomped on and get our hearts broken in the process.

But it is despicable to assail someone's relationship, because yours failed and was doomed from the beginning that had never been taken seriously. It's also not right to continually try to make the other woman in the picture feel uncomfortable, and try to sow the sees of doubt on her mind to undermine her respect and trust towards her partner.

People sometimes, have to understand that there are loss loves and move on. The ability to move on is never easy, I should know. I understand. But by acting in vengeance towards someone who had no hand in the way the relationship begun and developed is also desperately low. I always say, reevaluating ones own emotions, thoughts and the way someone is being treated is always the key to the answer. Change is up to us and if we don't help ourselves, no one else will. Don't put yourself into that situation. Especially after a certain age, it's more than just unflattering. It's a character flaw that will lead to our eventual doom.

Maybe, Rochester?

There are many wonderful skills and all kinds of things people learn by living away from their parents. Its the first introduction to the adult world, responsibilities and the time where many late teens, young adults face consequences and learn on their own to navigate through the world of realities that different social classes, race, gender, religion has constructed over the decades of historical, social, governmental policies enacted, later supported by media and what not.

The downside is that we don't have access to that parental love, acceptance, warmth, understanding and tolerance. This is especially true for me, considering that my mother is my world and that I come from a very affectionate family where words of endearment, kisses, hugs, cuddles are of the norm, almost on a daily, if not strictly. And no matter how much I love my own space, my own time and individuality and the ability to stand on my own (at least my very best efforts to) is priceless to me, though whenever I stay too far away for too long from hugs, kisses and words of endearment I begin to show symptoms of withdrawal. I am not saying that it is a drug and that it has dependency issues (perhaps it does, and requires a thin balance that needs to be maintained at all times) it's not actually like drug dependency.

So, we have decided to go to Rochester sometime in January to see my family. S will come with me to visit, meet the rest of my family and well, make this official. Here's to good food, a loving family and an adoring boyfriend.

Be Kind, Rewind

I know, originally that this is a movie (one I quite like to be honest) but this will do, considering how appropriate this is.

Now that the dust is beginning to settle and I am getting lots of time to reflect back on the previous summer, so many mistakes emerge as much as a little bit of a smirk on my lips at my well, juggling of all the facets of reality and truth. Mostly, I am thankful for having made it through that difficult time, but I am also mad at myself for not holding tighter, trying harder and not steadily continuing to do my studies and proposed goals. I've had to put so much on hold, and then when I began to go back to the way I had set up my way, other things always came up and well it's a lot harder to do with two people than it is with one.

Never make promises you can't keep and don't believe in everyone's promise until there is some sort of effort and time being put into the realization of the said promise. Promises are easy to make, especially with others material, products, goods to give away. Its like what I always say about myself. I'm known to sometimes find small amounts of money on street sidewalks when I take long strolls. I don't use the money for any of my own personal purposes, because its someone else's money. Who knows what that money was intended for. The idea of spending someone who might have needed that money is hard to swallow, so although this isn't any more ethical, I find the best solution to give that money away to a charity. I know that this is the same thing as spending and find no ethical principals in my action. I am also not defending myself either. Obviously turning in a 5 dollar bill into the police is kind of pointless as they won't take any action to find the owner. After all, how could they? It's not like I can find the owner either. Considering that I can't spend it or deposit it to my own bank account, giving it to a homeless person or a charity seems to be the only option left that I could logically think of and morally bring myself to act upon. I am not doing any good because, it's not my money and it's not something I am giving of my own. However it is the best of the worst.

So to try to do good with what is not yours, is simply just trying to act "good", gorge on the glory that is typically awarded to those who are thought of "being good" without actually doing it within your own means, opportunities and means. The whole thing gets nullified.


For the summer, I seem to be the money that's been lost on the sidewalk and people have been trying to donate me here or there, without my "rightful owner's" permission.

A Serious Case of Mondays

Going back to work after a wonderful weekend boasted of joy and road trips, firsts and all kinds of yucky, squirmy, squishy things, going back to work and therefore reality was a hard hit to take so early in the morning and to ride the bus for 45 minutes in the cold.

I have no idea how the days will turn into nights and pull in the week to another weekend. Oh wait, I don't get to take the weekend off and work straight through.

The only first year, and all the firsts

As couples we usually never take the time to appreciate the growth of a new relationship that takes a lot of work to put together and even more work to keep it together. I've always been a firm believer of while some things may pull people together, it would need more than just a magical pull of gravity to continue to grow, foster love, patience and a healthy relationship.

In order to never forget, but to remember as we forget, here's to all our firsts.

The first time we took a road trip to anywhere was to Chicago with the good old Van Galder bus company, in the dead of the night where Chicago welcomes us in all its glory.

Here's to a year of hope, excitement, and many firsts.

Chicago

Chicago, since long ago has been romanticized in my mind and heart. I am not particularly sure where to pinpoint this romantic notion's beginnings. It would have made for a far better story. Regardless, to spend the day for a birthday celebration in Chicago, to stay at one of the best hotels we could afford with our meager student incomes and to actually take care of required, adult business was what we both needed. To get away from all the difficulties, the negativities and all the interferences we both have been trying to get over and not come in between us.

To be with you, in Chicago, with love and with every ounce of our being spent to work together for a common future where we would build the very path we would walk on and to walk on it, there is no better feeling, fulfillment and satisfaction in the world than that. To walk together, hand in hand, in the month of Christmas, where the night descends so quickly, to be lit up by trees and ornamental lights, together we flew up, up and up to the heaven where our souls merged again, to be never broken again.

Days like these, I feel as though we're invincible, and that these days won't come to pass away.

Here at the bean, the promise of love is stronger than never before.

Happy Birthday To My Love~

Back in May we already celebrated my 25th birthday, the first birthday we ever celebrated. It was the first birthday I ever had with Salih. Needless to say, it was magical, exceptional. Today, we celebrated his first birthday together, his 31st.

The setting could not have been more perfect. Surrounded by our mutual friends at a mutual friend's nuptial celebration. This could not have been planned, those simple magical moments.

Here is to a full year with love, happiness and never having to spend enduring periods of time, away from one another. Here is to all the laughter we'll have for days without an end, and all the pain we will share along the way as we help one another to keep walking when it's so much easier to play the dead King.

Here is to the gift of you being in my life, with love and the pure bliss you have brought alone with your precious smile. Here is to you stretching the boundaries of my heart to love more than I ever thought was possible. Here is to all the miracles you've brought with your scent and the comfort, security, safety I had never known before holding your hands and laying my head on against your shoulders. Here is to the inner peace you have given me, day by day as you've seeped in my blood, with each breath you've given in and out. Here is to celebrate you with all of your kindness, sincerity, your generosity, big heart and a forgiving soul that has made the world a better place.

To every year until the end of the earth, together.

Mind Fuck

This 9 a.m to 10 p.m. dealing with people who have no appreciation of hard work, who only talks of arrogance while idly taking their time to judge everyone else around them is mind dulling. My inability to get any kind of studying or paper work done, or inability to take a break, enjoy a weekend, including Sundays due to an enforced schedule of Sunday shifts falling on me as the new employee has becoming overwhelmingly discouraging.

It is dulling my mind into silence of magnitude where I'm too tired to contemplate anything further than what I have to do, being unable to equip myself to accomplish those ever growing list of tasks to complete.

I am not paid enough to forget about the other aspects of my life.

Boys to Men

This society that enables boys no emotional springboard, instead spoils them into feeling entitled and the ability to narrate their own stories without any remorse towards what they are doing to others is sickening.

The mentality that allows men to have to zero responsibility for their sexuality, placing restriction, blame, seclusion, responsibility and all of shame on women's vagina and additionally fueling the irresponsible idea  that women must behave other wise just tread upon the path of the shamed is disgusting.

To treat women differently based on their sexual past, judging women for their past and dividing women into categories and becoming worthy and unworthy solely due to their sexual past and personalities is incomprehensible to me.

When raising boys, take care to teach them that they are held accountable to the same values, ethical principals as women. To take a woman lightly because she's "like that" is a ridiculous notion and unacceptable. When they grow up and eventually become men, have them take responsibilities and without being an oppressor and furthering the deep rooted problem between men and women that was socially constructed and religiously widened thousands of years ago.

A Past That Never Dulls

More and more things that comes up, and keeps popping up, relentlessly, without giving me a break that I am beginning to seriously consider all of the decisions I've made in the past 6 months. I am beginning to rethink character, the narrative yarn spurn over my eyes and the belief that I should naively believe everything I'm told. It feels like everything I've told up front, my own honesty and the the very ethical realizations I've come to, decisions I've taken and the choices I've made are not worth anything. I'm expected to behave properly and adequately so that I could be "worth" according to this ridiculous stupid logic, however he has the right to pop seeds anywhere, everywhere, with no punishments, no consequences to bear. Does he really think we won't be held responsible for the things we've done, both in this world and in the next? More secrets, more gross breaches of morality and ethical principals slaps me everyday. Does he really think he can get away with this and that he has been able to?

I am just about ready to call quits sometimes because of the pain inflicted on my pride and soul.

Revenge

I think I've always kind of been a spiteful child. Not over petty things, but when my heart did get broken, I did seek to make amends by getting revenge. To me, that seemed like the right thing to do at the time and that this was called justice. Surprisingly, at the age of twenty-five, I still am confused about the idea of justice and have mixed feelings of the judicial systems in anywhere in the entire world. Humans are eternally condemned to flaw, and flaw is what we cannot afford to have when we're in the position to judge (no person should ever or could ever be in the position to judge) and therefore leaving all of the talk about justice we create, seem pretty meaningless to me. This is something I further advice myself to seek answers and read about--thoroughly.

Though I always desired revenge, I am not sure about my success rate. It must be pretty low, considering I don't remember ever feeling satisfied and squared and made the score equal to those who have slighted me in the most immoral and indecent ways. Now, I feel like I have the power, the capabilities and the belief behind me that I can do anything to these two people, one in particular. The desire to hurt, wound has not subsided and the pain has not gone phantom either. I keep swallowing everything, including my pride, because it really is not worth the hassle and the consequences. I'd rather, happily just go on my life, with the knowledge behind me and keep pushing further into the future. After all, I've made my decision and there should be no backing out now. It is too late with such formalities like these. Besides, again the question that is most importantly chides in my ears all the time: Who am I to judge? I need to let this go. I know...but revenge is so sweet, so alluring, though it always tastes awful at the end that I know I will eventually regret it. I don't want to have any regrets in my life. I need a better system of coping mechanism.

Thanksgiving 2012

As apparent, this will be our year of firsts. First anniversary, first new years, first birthdays, first Valentine's day, first Christmas, first Halloween and first Thanksgiving.

Having our first Thanksgiving, despite the fact that it's the genocide of Native Americans, was something I was looking forward to this year. Although away from our families, this became a time where we could learn to appreciate what we do have, though that may not be much, certainly a lot less then many, but however, the same of the opposite can be said.

We had a few of our friends over where we celebrated Thanksgiving, quite the immigrant way. Most of our friends were away and we were selective of the ones that did remain, as we wanted to refrain from some of them. I think the last decent Thanksgiving I had was, well, since never since my family never celebrates the American holiday and since 2009 I didn't have anyone to celebrate it with. All of these are entirely different blog posts at another time.

But we did have turkey, we had pumpkin pie, and we had wine, and beer and a long time gathered around the table, conversing into the wee hours of the night that well, didn't pertain to any singular topic, especially not Thanksgiving favorite topics.

It was ours, and for that it was special.

Arm&Hammer Laundry Detergent

My mother uses Tide, but I'll tell you, I much prefer Arm&Hammer products when it comes to doing the laundry. We went grocery shopping and had a disagreement about changing the laundry detergent. He wants to use Tide (which I thinking is over expensive for something that doesn't work that great to begin with) or to use what I am using. I like the scent, the feel of the clothes better and I believe Arm&Hammer cleans just as well. Baking soda, does work wonders in my experience. Oh, have I mentioned, it is much, much cheaper?

Muharrem 2012

Another year where Muharrem came and is nearly out of passing. Unfortunately, due to having recently started a new job, I have become unable to seek my seclusion I had planned on taking the previous year. You can imagine the disappointment and betrayal I feel at myself currently. It's also have become much more difficult to continue and uphold the other aspects of the mourning fast that is held during the first 12 days of Muharrem. I feel guilty and there is this rotten egg smell inside of my soul I can't seem to avoid with my inability to upkeep the very things I had promised over my soul to hold, honor and cherish. It's unfortunate that this year, we're struggling just to hold our heads above water and to feel lucky to have come to an end of another day. I had imagined everything to be so much different than the reality of today. A lot of unplanned things happened that has crippled me into inability, passiveness and sheer game of catch up with sacrifices here and there made for the sake of attaining the ability to moving on and getting on with another day.

How sad.

Ambigiuously Conservative

In the recent years and even long before that, I've been slowly moving away from anything that is conservative, whether religiously, morally, socially even financially to a more, well, let's call it a liberal view.

Of course everyone's backgrounds of family, education, social class, environment and in diverse countries such as the States, ethnic/racial background, religion highly molds the views an individual tends to develop and later on hold. To add on to this, the people we choose to surround ourselves in our adult lives, the socially constructed values, beliefs we tend to follow or are more prone to follow, the kinds of media we are engaged in, and the kind of news sources we tend to stay up to date with life continues to highlight our own personal preferences and continues to build a reality that is different than those who aren't like us. So, there goes the sharpening differences across the board. The liberal kind is the one I've long ago decided to follow and on certain criteria have decided to model certain behaviors of mine own.

I've come to believe that blaming women or placing all kinds of responsibility on women's shoulders in regards to the shortcomings of society, job openings and promotional rate (or lack thereof), difficulties of both being able to engage in the public and the private sphere. Women are and should always be equal to men. Women should have equal pay, same access to health care, access to things like birth control, pap smear, vaccines, abortions, mammograms, cancer screenings universally available and free.


  So when someone like me who has embraced individualism, acceptance, feminism and a more liberal, humanitarian lens at analyzing society, individuals and "women's question" it becomes more difficult to be with someone who is more socially conservative and ambiguously at that. What do I mean, when I say ambiguously? What I mean to say is the advantage men take of being privileged simply of being born of one sex over the other. It is to easily judge a woman, or women in society without knowing what it is like to be a woman in that given society and with the easiness of being a men that society grants to those carrying the Y chromosome. It is to assess values, moralize the justification of their actions and beliefs and grossly expecting women to adhere to such rules simply becomes a men has decided that's how things shall be. It's the inability to carry empathy towards women in plight, or to purely blame women for their failures, inability to see the the things that needs immediate fixing that disables women to be more successful at the public sphere. When a woman failures to associate that shortcoming to the sex of the failure rather than personal mistakes that may have been involved.

We probably fight about this topic every other day, with me fuming and steam coming out of every possible porous surface in my mind, soul and body. It quickly becomes clear that we become frustrated with each others' deeply held values. Eventually it becomes a battle to understand where each others' grounds are, what we are standing on, what are our limits (which surprises us each time we argue about these topics), the precedents, reasoning of our beliefs and the whys, hows. Eventually, as a couple it leads to a better understanding that makes me a even more radicalized feminist and him, more aware of the struggles, plights, and the hurdles unseen, unsought, or not thought of before having discussed matters at such length with such passion.

It feels like his very first awakenings into a feminist's dreams. I wonder how far we can stretch the skin we individually wear to envelope both of us.

Exhaustion

My ability to keep reading during my transportation to work is diminishing as I am usually still exhausted from the previous night. This is my third week working without a  day off in between and I am about ready to throw in the towel. This is not being hard working, it's being on a suicide mission to derail yourself, mentally and physically come undone and eventually die of being overworked.

The 45 minute commute each way, everyday, twice a day is taking its toll on me. I can't come back home on the rare times that I do have a break to take a nap or eat non-restaurant food. Put up my feet, be able to finish a few errands here and there. None of it can be done, because I am pretty much a prisoner at the other end of the city where I have no feasible amount of time to commute somewhere else do take care of other life necessities.

I often miss the bus home, so I have to wait a whole hour before the last bus comes in towing me away. That's usually outside too. Library and any kind of store has closed long before then. It's okay now, considering that it is still November. But come December and January, it is going to be much colder and less tolerable than it is today. I am not sure if I did the right thing by taking this job out of desperation, regardless of the distance and the gut feeling that my brain interpreted it as, are you still brave enough to toil serving job?

Green Household Cleaners

Recently, I've been contemplating switching over to green and DIY household cleaners. I am not sure where to begin from, laundry detergent? Dish soap? Bleach? Shower cleaner?

Any suggestions to those who are beginners in this and don't know where to begin, and questioning the power of the cleaning agents?

Patience

I have never really been a patient person. My mother, my entire life has been the epitome of a patient person. She is on the same level as a saint for me. I have never seen anyone else so soft spoken, driven, but unable to hurt anyone else in the process and someone who sacrifices herself for the sake of others, many times, repeatedly.

I think I am much more like my father in these things. He is more haste, abrupt, temperamental and a little unstable. Easily discouraged and quickly alleviated to hopelessness and desperation. Ironically, my entire life I've always had to wait for nearly every single thing I have come to possess or been able to climb up to on the success ladder (I haven't gotten very far). So the very little that I do have, has come after long periods of waiting, hoping, praying and then giving up. When the thing I desire no longer becomes desirable and something in need or an essential, sometime after, I will gain said thing. That is the vicious, hateful, malicious cycle of my life and more or less I have learned to live with it. I've learned to limit the number of things I desire, want and deem essential in my life. Less expectations means I am waiting for less number of things and when things don't turn out so great, I haven't waited for nothing. A little more logical if you ask me.

But lately, with everything that has happened in August/September, I still can't take things out of my mind (which by the way, I really should. I really doubt this is a good sign), and it is truly annoying, to no ends. I want to get it out of my head and my heart. But I am still seething with anger and misery and I don't know where else to take it out at. I think I have already taken it out as much as it is possible within human bounds and logic. Why am I being so impossible, so difficult and so stuck up on something that happened in the past? I cannot for the life of me get over it. I must, because I believe I see the warning signs of what will happen if I do not. Yet, though it has instilled the fear of God in me, I still fantasize about all the ways I will get back. My patience has been wearing thin. I keep delaying the promised time, obviously for the good of everyone involved. I must increase the threshold of my patience, though I have no idea how. This will be a good practice and a good skill to have for future references. However, currently, I am drowning and it feels like there is no one to guide me up to the surface from the bottom of the jealous ocean.

Pumpkin Picking

Fall is here with all of its glory for just a few more days, before the gruesome truth of winter freezes us, slowly, starting from our extremities to our very spine and soul.

But until that devastation occurs, here's to fall, and pumpkins. There is nothing like a pumpkin latte, a pumpkin pie and pumpkin picking. They have to be some of my the most favorite things to in the fall, especially here in Madison, Wisconsin.

A few weeks back, we took the sun's invitation to be outside, play and enjoy the last sun rays for the next several months to come. With a few friends from our group, we found ourselves at the country side, walking in a farm that's quite literally miles away from any kind of town, and be lost in the feel good scavenger hunt for pumpkins.

Now, only if we can carve them in time :)

Cooking Weekly

I feel like I am whining and complaining on here a little too much. But it seems that my blogging has some sort of become my venting machine, though not entirely.

I love cooking, I love feeding others and I believe having guests over and being hospitable is an art that not everyone is up to the par. I also believe, they shouldn't be and have no obligation to be so. It is a choice after all.

However, for the life of me, I cannot cook everyday. I cannot get myself to cook everyday. It gets boring, becomes a too much of a demanding chore with the clean up and what not that, I neither have the time, nor the energy, and most importantly I am not willing to do so.

I cook weekly and I cook a lot, with lots of different varieties, enough to last us the whole week. I might add one or two things quickly over the course of the week, but those are no big deals and can be done without taking a great deal of my time, that other wise could be spent more wisely on something else, like reading a book, or writing a blog ;).

Try it, and let me know how that works out. But, you will have others who complain. The thing is, eventually the bottom line comes to how much time you are willing to dedicate to cooking and how stern your Nos are. Cooking is therapeutic and something I enjoy immensely. It is also a chore. I just would like to remove that from the chore list and limit the number of days I cook to two, therefore making it something I enjoy and further contributing to a dear hobby of mine.

Maybe, I am becoming smarter about my life after all.

Living Together

For the hermit homebody like me, who makes her home her whole sanctuary and entire being's physical manifestation and adores living alone, imagine the difficult that could arise from living with a male who never thinks twice about chore distribution, cleanliness, hygiene, self motivation, time and space.

To be honest, when I first moved in, I was skeptical of how this would work out. Especially considering the circumstances of my moving in. But eventually, we both found out that we liked living together and therefore had decided to keep living together. A lot of the arbitrary rules, confounding feelings and the difficulty of being financially honest and open took its heavy weight off. Recently, we've been beginning a new and more of the reins have fallen into my hands. We're definitely more organized, though we're definitely prone to putting off all work and be lazy bums, hanging around the house.

However, much to my surprise, sharing a house, a bed has not been as difficult as one might have presumed. Especially of all the horror stories I could have cooked up on any given period of 15 second intervals.

Needless to say, it hasn't been without its challenges. Setting waking up and going to bed times, creating ritualistic schedules to follow religiously. Merging our busy schedules, trying to mix, match and mash them into a unified, cohesive blocks of time where we're both out of the house at the same time and come home about at the same time. How to spend our weekends, what to do when we're at home and proper decorum, the frequency of grocery shopping, bill paying have rised their own conflicted stories and solutions. But it's been so far, manageable, civil and compassionate.

Libraries

There is something about libraries that always draws me in, comfortably welcoming me into the imaginative worlds of stories where the characters are bright, eccentric and follow their hearts and dreams. Stories of where time has no significance or meaning, whether it be past, present, future, or far far into the future where planets have been found, destroyed and cannibalistic dystopian futures exist. I could do all of this, cozily from the couch I am sitting on as long as I am enveloped by the silence of a library that drowns me in books and writers I've never heard of before. Lost in the collective knowledge, memory and histories of my craft ancestors that I so desperately strive to be like, painstakingly labor to become a better writer and share in their glory.

So imagine my happiness when I was able to access the library in between my rare work shift breaks. I say rare, because they mostly stick me with the all day shifts, which means I get to be on my feet from 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. At that point in time, library closes. But to be frank, I wouldn't be able to go even if it did stay later due to my excessive physical exhaustion.

On the days that I can get an hour or two break, away from my sexist co workers, the overwhelming scent of food, my black clothes and being on my feet, the library has become my sanctuary, my hospice, solace and a pair of warm arms to softly embrace me, heal me and coddle me to an imaginary future where I did not have to do any physical, manual labor.

Religious Awekenings

I am a little afraid to probe this topic, since it is highly personal, highly sensitive, highly inflammatory and perceptive, also scandalous, highly changeable that it seems like a stupid idea to expose myself to writing such things online.

Some people follow some sort of belief, faith blindly since birth. Some believe in the purest way possible perhaps, without ever falling into pitfalls, doubts, having a head full of question marks, somehow instilled with the belief in some sort of higher purposed functioning being and the power it has over the rest of mere mortals, without ever needed any miracle, any truth, any conversation, debate or dialogue about it. I wish I could have been one of those people. I truly admire them.

Some of us, begin out in the way as I have described in the paragraph above and then turn to neglect, reject everything and any such belief. They have arrived a truth according to them and I could not argue any further with them at that point. From where they are standing, there could not be any purer truth than the conclusion they have arrived at.

Me...I have always had a tug of war with religion, changing with the phases of my life, as I struggle to hold on to life, my struggle to hold on to religion also varies in causal correlation to that. They are the factors of my life in which everything else seems to be governed by.

I've probably have had several religious awakenings based on the after shocks of dire challenges of my life that I have come out of, somewhat successfully and after I have riddled myself with mistakes, regrets and heavy consequences to pay. They don't always stick, and every theory I have ever been able to pin point in my head to adopt as my doctrine, is evolving, adapting and changing. But they have been the culmination of the wrongs I have done onto others and the wrongs that have been done on to me. Moved by the emotional, psychological torture and abuse, I move on to better moral standards and other definitions of the sort, (play around with words all you will, I am way too sleep deprived to arrange them any nicer than my mind has already done so). The principals change, incorporating what I have learned, what I have been able to face with myself an able to confront and accept at the end. There are many unresolved issues I have with myself, so, don't hold your breath there.

So, are religious awakenings fueled by our own experiences of moral dilemmas that hone the keenest of hearts and sharpest of minds? Is it what makes it harder than steel? Is it what makes it determined and immovable, inexcusable and unavoidable?

How about the millions of people who choose to abandon religion? Clearly, they're choosing the most righteous path according to them.

See, it is a riddle, no one can solve unless put into clear, concise context that we can see in front of us as it plays out in movies or T.V. Shows.

Work Atmosphere

The more you work with certain people, the more the truth seems to come out as it is the principle for many things in the world.

Firstly, I have always been around male coworkers as many industries are overflowed with men who think they are entitled to more more hours, more money and more respect without having to do the towing of the heavy lifting required of it. But here I am, working with more males then females. Let me put this into perspective. There are about 14 males working and I am only woman currently employed. They have no regards to anything, including the restaurant rules included. They have no patience left from overworking in the food industry sustained periods of time. They are rude, brute and with criminal pasts that have psychological problems. They're sexist, ignorant and arrogant. Though they might provide some comic reliefs, though that usually comes at someone else's expense, offending right and left being racist bigots.

Let's just say that I am not particularly fond of the people I work with.

Drop-off, Pick-up

It's funny how we've worked out this system. I drop you off to school in the morning, send you on your way with muffins and fruit in your lunch bag, besides your lunch, a warm mug of coffee and red kisses on the cheek. At wee hours of the night, you come to pick me up from the library as we go back home together hand in hand, capturing the essence of the last dying days of the fall and witnessing the beginning of the winter. There is much we talk about at strange hours, strange topics. But I've grown closer through playing these little house games. I feel that I am slowly growing closer and see myself less vulnerable and able to open my doors and bring down my walls. I am more open and I feel a lot less judged. Sentences just kind of flow out so much easier and we delve deeper and deeper of our consciousness and person-hood. Secrets are exchanged and our fingers become interlaced even tighter. Fall has brought you to me even a little bow and a side note.

I am even more grateful to the invention of libraries than I was ever before.

Traveling Conscious

The traveling conscious is a enviable thing, sometimes a gift from the Heavens and sometimes is just the opposite. I guess it would depend on your own personality and what you were hoping to get out of your traveling time.

For me though, over the years I have eventually created and have build something I like to call "The Traveling Conscious/ness". It sound ludicrous to many people around me and they like to just say well, she just possesses over active imagination. It doesn't matter which kind of traveling I am doing. It might be going to see my parents, coming back home to my boyfriend, or to see my boyfriend or romantic partner after a long pause, it might be traveling together, it might be somewhere I am experiencing for the first time, it might be for new beginnings, it might be because I am relocating to somewhere else to live my life, a new job, a job interview...whatever kind of traveling it might be. There are certain consciousness that follows with it, plaguing my mind questions surrounding the said traveling that goes beyond the mechanics of the immediate future and planning.

Every time I am going back to visit my parents my mind is invaded by questions regarding family, family responsibilities, branching out of a family, the natural succession of the order of law, growing healthy little families, the past that seems to indicate the future, and many other things that stems out of that line of thinking. This never fails. I travel with that conscious, experiment in that line of thought, come back home and finish on writing a few things that might eventually become a short-story, or begin the beginnings of a story, definitely several journal and blog entries that eventually seems to sharpen, clear and deepen my previous arguments and allow me to rediscover older aha moments and discover new ones that allows me to reach to the higher, next level.

It's time that allows me to think is probably would have made it simpler to describe. I should work on that some more. It effects the way we experience things, the way we learn things and the way we seem to frame our experiences and tell our narrative story. That I think in itself is legitimate enough to continue it even superficially.

Rituals

You know, it's odd how we mentally frame our world and place value and instill hope in things that probably have no sway in changing our lives. However, they can have great control and exert influence over our behavior and the way we may perceive anything, from the way we perceive our selves, our families, life and world in general and react according to that. Well, that could be everything.

Over the years as I grew up, I decided to take more control of my life, tried to implement better decision making systems and went on a journal to first find and then understand and eventually reconcile what I've found and what I want of and for myself. Of course, finding and desires are also things that takes time to discover, but for the purposes of this blog entry and length, I will discuss that at another blog (hopefully I'll remember).

I have silly beliefs and principals that somethings I feel are counterproductive to my goals and mission. But, I keep them still, because at the very worst and in my lowest points, they make me feel like at least I am still doing something and still in the fight of "trials and determination", however weakened the both items might be.

Why, as humans do we feel the need to create rituals and later the need to place so much value in those beliefs? I have no answer to that question other than the fact that it comforts us and allows us to hold on to something that we have other wise been unable to hold on to either physically or non-physically in our realities and lives. We might have created them as motivators, or to stop patterns of wrongful behavior. Whatever may be the case, they I believe usually drive from past experiences and hopeful expectations of different, bettered results in the future. They can give us the last minute strength we may have mustered up in ourselves to have the courage to go on when we experience the never ending storms of our lives. Who hasn't had multiple of those in their lives? I believe, none. But then again, I might be wrong. It's not like I've done a study on this or anything.

Well, my rituals are that I must clean my home top to bottom every Wednesday and Sundays. I must go out grocery shopping early on Saturdays and that I also must take care of myself and religiously follow religious prayers. I feel that, in the minimum if I can accomplish these on time and well, my week and later my month will somehow turn out okay. Because at the minimum I have put forth some sort of effort in the great balance sheet of the Universe.

What are your rituals?

Conscious

What is having a conscious? I'd like to know in clear, defined, upholding and never changing terms that are universally accepted. Though, this changes often and from person to person, time to time, incorporating the widely held values of the time and the people inhabiting an era.

As a person, it's so easy to say that we won't be this way or that way. It's easy to think that nothing good or perhaps bad will happen to us. We will continue living our lives in the status-quo that it has always been in. It's also easy to sit up at a pedestal and judge, condemning those who has fallen from graces, "hell suits you just fine" looks, taking away a hand of help and saying, "I would not have done what you have done, if I were in your shoes." It's so easy to say these things. Pretending we'll have the moral uprightness and rigidity to not only know what is right, virtuous and moral, but also uphold it, apply it and execute it in every moment of our lives. It's easy to see ourselves from a morally superior step. I hardly think many of us have clean enough hands to preach that to the choir. The thing is, we wouldn't have fared and better and we won't when similar or different situation hits us far. In no means am I excluding myself. I also belong to the majority in this case. I have done many things I am not proud of it and fear the day they will be leaked to the public. In that time, I will seek the mercy of my beloved ones and hope they can still accept me as they used to and understand my shortcomings as a human being.

Though, things I believe, from my observations and experiences work much differently. When moral ambiguities strike us, we blame it on the situation, circumstances, people, shortcomings, fortune, fate, God and so on and so forth. We want anyone but us to take the blame, downfall and pay the consequences. We justify ourselves into rationalizing our actions, making ourselves believe we have no other choice (though sometimes there are no other choices). We expect understanding, acceptance, understanding, pity, humility and to be treated humanely.

We want second chances to show that we are good, to redeem ourselves and prove that we have learned from our mistakes. But, it is so easy to suspend our moral judgements and create this another illusionary world, suspended from reality where we allow ourselves all kinds of improper misconduct that we would other wise never do, judge others who do, but grant ourselves the immunity we never extend to anyone else; youth.

So, is that the sum of a conscious? Who knows? Does it grow over time, gradually as we make mistakes and our knowledge accumulated via different, alternating, polarizing sources? Probably. When do we really become aware of the rightness, wrongness and morality of our actions? I think in psychology the age limit begins at three. But, are most of us in our thirties still capable of applying those rules to our lives, continually in an effort to be a good person? Do we even really know the differences between right and wrong at the age of thirty?

Is it that when you think about executing an action that might be deemed immoral, you fast forward into the future and try to see when the consequences play out, seeing unfavorable results, opt out to go with one of the other options? Or is it because, your soul and mind really cannot reconcile with the world you have created within yourself and the guilty action you are able to commit cannot reconcile and the heavy burden of slighting, wronging someone else, hurts you enough, unable to carry the excess baggage it creates that it becomes a stopper, puts on the brakes for you?

It's nearly five in the morning, I am sleep deprived, and my mind unable to probe any further and come out in a healthy state.

Buses

For the past several weeks, I've been traveling with buses as my main source of transportation. Quite a few more things to reflect about kind of attack the traveler's mind then usual. Though that in it's entirety is another blog post. Going to work and coming back home from work, taking the bus to enable such a miracle seems beyond the work of God, technology and good samaritan. I know it seems like a bit of an exaggeration, but that's how the U.S. developed over the years. Cities are far away from one another, and there is such a thing as downtown, suburbs, urban areas and such. Back where my parents live, the closest grocery store where they could purchase any kind of sustaining produce is 10 minutes away by car. As such, being able to go from point A to point B regardless of it's distance without owning a car and having to bow down and ask to someone else is a gift to me at this point. Of course there are inconvenient thing about the bus. You can't go on your own time, pace and route. You have to ride with a bunch of strangers that you know nothing about. You don't have the option to be late to your bus stop, while the bus sometimes may be 15, 30 minutes late. Usually not without reason, though buses and be and are often late, especially during the winter months. The upside is that I don't ever have to directly pay for gas, I don't have to go through the joy of up keeping a car, pay its loans and insurance. Also, I get to interact with the world, feeling being apart of the society at some point. Human interaction is such a make it or break it thing, continuously, ever changing from one phase to another. Additionally, it gives me a great chance to hear real conversations and meet interesting people that I  might not other wise have the chance to do so.  Mingling in, being out and about, participating in the world in the many various transactions is calming, unifying and beautiful to me. I have increased the number of my character sketches ever since regularly taking the bus. Habits, physical appearances, behaviors, scenes, dialogue has piled up. It gives me a great access to characters while writing and in great need to get the story moved out. Also it just gives me some quiet time to think, ponder and be inspired.

Then also again, there are people I would have preferred not to have crossed my paths ever. Things I would have rather not seen. Though that's how packages come in. Although it might be uniquely creative, individualistic and holistic, however, there will be something rotten, something that needs fixing. Nothing just comes in perfectly packaged with its bowtie on top, waiting to be opened, and when opened with no consequences ever to be found or lived through.

So here's a glass of wine to buses!

Strippers

Hmm, yes I can imagine how a conversation could go so wrong with the word strippers in it. It's one of those explosive words that will be set off no matter what, no matter the circumstance and the people having the conversation. It can go off in a good, humorous way, or it can go off in a bad, dangerous, destructive way. It depends entirely on the nature of the people and the conversation.

What do I think? This became a frequent topic in the last week or so as a friend of ours is having a Bachelor's party soon. I strongly objected to the idea of them going there and acting in "improper and lewd ways that will piss off their wives, fiancees and long term committed girlfriends". They told me to lighten up. They are right, I should.

However, the idea of objectifying a person, merely degrading (his or her) to a status of piece of meat, an object of desire that has no other meaning, no purpose and cannot be a fulfilling entity as a human being, by "itself" is cruel, inhuman, savagery and well, misogynist. I think most people could already figure out thus far by my blogs (if there are any constant readers at all, which I highly doubt there are) that I am a feminist. It is wrong to make a person this way. I have been to both male and female stripper clubs, and well, I am not exactly proud of it. It is wrong and it is an action I no longer desire to support. I don't think people should support it either, financially or otherwise. I am no prude when it comes to human sexuality by my affinity due to my majors, however it is also wrong to sanction this debauchery act by veiling it as just fun and something the men do. Being a man does not give anyone the license to act like an idiot and have others accept your behavior. It used to work in the past, it should no longer be able to work.

I also have a problem with another woman shaking her crotch in front of my boyfriend's face. I don't like the idea that my boyfriend will be glaring at another woman other than me. Yes, it bothers me and I am not ashamed to admit it. I will be jealous and if something doesn't sit well with me, it doesn't sit well with me. I cannot change that fact, just so that I fit into the "mainstream" opinions.

Memory Exercises

Trying to write from memory, going back in time, making up details, trying to remember and hang on to the tiniest bit of observation made who knows how long ago is a bit difficult. Though I do appreciate these exercises. It makes me more motivated to be a stalker. Yes, that's right, people watching is downright stalking. Though it is a requirement of my profession. Watching, observing, noting down the details and tweaking them around to serve my purposes or do social science projects in my head that are funded or granted by nothing other than the foolish hypotheses that I conjure up over time with certain information input that I seem to obsess about.

I've been getting better and better about it though.

Quiet Study Areas

Mm, my predictions have proved me right. You wouldn't believe the productivity I had when I went into the library and instead of grabbing a table in the open study area, I went into the quiet study area, placed my butt on one of the chairs, that was provided by the only open table I could find. I spread out my stuff and began to work. Considering everyone was quiet, focused on what was in front of them, without any disturbances and everyone trying to be as polite as they possibly can, I got the peace of mind that I sought out. I studied without any interruptions for four hours. I got a lot done. I couldn't have even begin to imagine getting all of that done in one way if I were at home, or somewhere else in the library.

It's good to know I still know a thing or two about myself and my study habits.

When to Study

For now, while I have no time to actually go to a library and write, I am trying to keep up with my basic studies while en route to work. That's right. The me, who continually prefers to be in a clean, well lit room that has been decorated with my own taste, desires and all my books, utencils and pencils under my hand with easy access to my archives of old writing, have stopped to reading through my grammar, writing fiction for dummies, vocab, and writing fiction 101 in bus, en route to work and home at night. 

At the moment, I'll take this not being able to do anything at all.

Um, Woodmans?

"We've certainly went grocery shopping many times before. How could we not? We live together. Each time, we've learned something entirely different about one another and we've faced with a lot of the same reactions in one another. It's always a little exciting walking down the aisles with you, as you tell one funny story another in your mind, all related to something, one thing or the other in a chain reaction of your story telling. A little sadly, it's always been difficult to get enough time from your hectic schedule to ensue our own practices and rituals on a weekly basis though. Regardless, today, you were here with me, focused on the task at hand. Cheerful, singing, even a little excited with the small cup of tea I placed in your hand, you were ready to roll with punches all day long. How could I ever have known you'd enjoy Woodman's so much, or the fact that you actually liked shopping? Oh, the wonders of the world when I am with you."

Job

Yay! I have a job now. Though not particularly what I was looking for. This job is a bit too far away for my public transportation option only. It's all day long, on my feet and sometimes without much of a break that is highly physical and leaves me incapacitated when I come home. Coming home is like a gift from God and also the most basic of chores become the biggest chores imaginable to me in that after work physical state. Dishes await us both, dinner needs to be eaten and shower is a must so that I don't smell like chicken teriyaki the next morning. Then it's let's do it all over again.

For the moment though, I am willing to overlook it all, work myself to the bone, because after not having a job for a sustained period of time that it's required of me to have a job, for my own sanity. I am doing it voluntarily, out of my own volition and still smiling at it.

Past Bayram

Eid has passed us now. Unfortunately, Eid passed us by like the passing by of a soft summer's breeze. Brief, warm and unable to appreciate it until it's gone, looking for a wind that's cooler. Because I recently just started a new job that is demanding and takes every waking moment away from me (nearly, exception of showering, cooking and eating), Eid was there and we did absolutely nothing special as we had planned.

That's the way life works supposedly. I know this, I've been through this so many times, it's not particularly questionable. I know this as a matter of fact in life. However, it's always sad to see the opportunities you've been waiting for, the days you were anticipating drain from in between your fingers. I had the whole thing planned out. I was going to cook and bake, invite people over, listen to traditional music and research the origins and find out more about the things I was supposedly know since birth, simply because I was born a Muslim.

So with work, this opportunity has passed away too.

Enjoy the Sunshine

I mean it. Enjoy the sunshine. In the northern part of the United States that could be a little hard to come by considering we are slowly gearing up towards the Winter, as we are slowly beginning to leave Fall behind. Sadly, much to my disappointment. I think I would be forever happy, if the world was in an eternal state of Autumn. No, I probably wouldn't be. As much as I dread certain parts of change, I also like, desire, crave and in grave need of it. I cannot survive without subtle and big changes along the way to reinvigorate, reawaken and keep me motivated.

But, sunshine can be good and essential to people's moods. It after all does induce phantom happiness that might not be there. I will use every pick-me up that I can get my hands on.

A few days ago, I took a walk in our neighborhood, went out on a little exploration. I've been on exploration before, obviously. I cannot be living in a new neighborhood and it would be unforgivable and unthinkable of me to think I would not go out to discover new coffee shops, bike paths, finding out the nearest and quietest body of water for my emotional unwinding. Exploring is simply what I do. What I feel compelled to do. It was vastly different than my recent mood swings. It was one of those days we woke up early, had breakfast (though really, I just pulled an all-nighter) and we all made an effort to put our lives into some sort of order. There was sunshine, a nice chill and a soft breeze. I cannot tell you the change it has given me. I felt like a new person the entire day. I almost felt, invincible.