Well, this post is overly revealing, contradictory, and dumb... But here goes...

Yesterday I discovered a NEW feeling... that I was "too connected." Upon further inspection though, I realized actually, I'm a terrible friend and the word connected isn't right. What I actually am is too digitally AVAILABLE. I have a MySpace, a FaceBook, email, twitter, a blog, and an iPhone. There is no moment I'm not just READY to either put my most personal thoughts and feelings out there or to receive your call or text or comment or an @reply.

Plus there's this other thing. I have this abandonment issue and I hate burning bridges so I hang onto things too long. People that suddenly stop talking to me, I think about EVERY DAY WHY? Ex love interests. Friends from 20 years ago. Why am I still holding onto all these things that never made the cut?

Well enough of that!

I went through all my pictures and DELETED things I don't NEED to remember. I DELETED contacts from my phone of people I don't NEED to contact again.. I DELETED my MySpace. There is a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. I can let go. Normally these things would cause me anxiety, but I was suddenly struck with the feeling that I was ready. These are things that I was a part of or almost was, but they are no more and I'm okay with that.

So, being too digitally available and all, I thought I'd post this. HA!

Have you ever had these feelings? I just feel like people are always watching me. Always judging me. Always looking for fault. Sometimes it's okay to just put your phone on airlane mode or go for a walk or not respond immediately. Sometimes it's ok to keep to yourself, have a glass of wine, and watch TV and not go desperately looking for friends and a party.

That's where I am right now. Where are you?

Best Recipe of the Week

So, I love to cook and more importantly I love to eat! However, I'm a busy gal so I'm going to share with you a recipe that's quick, easy, delicious, and you can impress people without having to cook anything.

Here's the ingredients you will need:

Flat bread (Vons)

Artichoke Spread (Costco)

Mozzarella Cheese

Tomatoes (I recommend an heirloom or homegrown)

Fresh Basil
Balsamic Glaze (Bentleys)

Pretty much, do what you want, but I heat the oven to 400, put just the bread in there for a few minutes until it's SLIGHTLY toasty, spread on the artichoke spread, top with mozzarella, and top with sliced tomatoes. Put back in the oven and cook until tomatoes start to toast and the cheese starts to brown. Pull out and drizzle with the balsamic glaze and top with chopped basil.

VIOLA! You are welcome!

Violence Unsilenced

I don't know if it's incredibly scary or really really brave, but I did something out of character.

I took a subject which (until the end of the year) I had never spoken about and not only published it on my blog, but submitted it to Violence Unsilenced. This was months ago though and I had completely forgotten about it until yesterday when I received an email saying it was my turn to have my story featured. You can go there and read it if you want to.

This all started after I had some very intense and surprising internal reactions to writing this post. Not because I was in denial about it, but because writing it all down at one time, in one place, made it so plain to see that it was something serious. All these years I had brushed it off as not being anything to worry about. Perhaps the individual memories weren't noteworthy, but together they had weight... they were heavy... and WHILE SCARY or possibly really really brave, saying something was the turning point for me!

Blogging and putting yourself out there in a public forum is difficult. You run the risk of people misinterpreting what you say... Of people who don't know you (and actually people who DO know you) judging you... This is my worst fear and yet strangely blogging/writing is SO SO cathartic for me. I take all these heavy thoughts and burdens and I release them to the universe. Plus, for me, I find my biggest motivation in life is to connect and share with others. I probably go about it a bit passive aggressive by blogging, being all quasi anonymous and all... but oh well.

I know what my intention is. I try SO very hard to be the best I can be. To be kind. To be thoughtful. To know I DON'T KNOW the fully story of those that I encounter. To treat others how I want to be treated. Ultimately you can't please everyone, but I keep putting it out there anyways. Sometimes you just gotta take a chance, ya know?

Dang, this is a lot of work. Can I get some feedback here?

So, I'm struggling with this whole "city blog" thing. I'm no journalist. I don't want to be troubled with linking to others posts and be all responsible about accuracy with times and such. Can't I just say, "Dude, I like this. Here's how it made me feel. Just go there." ?? That would be easy. Now half of my wonder and grand fascination with my comings and goings are dampened because I feel like I need to pretend I'm a reporter or something.

Plus, I suck. Like, here I go to the Blogger Olympics and I didn't even write a post about my epic loss! Also, I wrote this whole thing about Pizza & Beer at Pizza Fusion and didn't even mention the PIZZA!! I even got an honorable mention for last weeks "goings on" over at FresnoMagBlog and didn't even say Thank you. Are you understanding my suckiness yet?

Then, last week, my real dad shows up at my work unannounced. I have A MILLION feelings about this and I wanted to write it out, but then I was like - dangit - now all these real people who might know me are going to read this and changing my blog focus sort of took from me my personal voice. Sigh.

I need feedback. Am I doing the right thing? I realize it's in its beginning stages and will slowly find it's groove, but is it okay to just do whatever I want? Does random pics, sad overly personal revelations, and product reviews go together? HELP!

It's not...

_______________________

You fill in the blank.

I often ask myself what it "is" and I'm unable to answer. I don't know what it is. In fact, I don't much of anything at all. Here's what I do know.

It's not... easy.
It's not... easy to be me.
It's not... simple.
It's not... endearing.
It's not... pleasant.
It's not... admirable.
It's not... ever going to change.
It's not... even close to being over.

What is "it" ???

_______________________

Again, You fill in the blank. It's late and I'm tired and I've had a long day. I'm unable to formulate the words it would take to truly capture it.

Uhhh - PANIC - Backpedal - how exactly do I explain THAT!?

So I raced home last night after a grueling day at work and upon seeing my roommate in the hallway, had this conversation:

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Me: Ummm, so HEY, umm if you sort of write a blog about how hot you think a guy is in a movie, woul...

Her: Oh Oh, which movie...?

Me: Well, umm, you know that movie Amistad?

Her: Yeeeaaaaahhhhhhhh??????

Me: and also, ummm, American History X?

Her: (Shivers) Oh my god, remember that part where he “curbs” that one kid?

Me: So.. Yeah... if you sorta overlook, like, slavery and apartheid and stuff... Ummm and say something that happened during a hate crime was hot - is that bad?

Her: *Stare of disbelief*

Me: SO WAIT- it get’s worse!!! JUST NOW, this guy, a black guy, sends me a message saying “Hmmm, I don’t really know you, so all I can say is Hmmmm.” OH.MY.GOD. do you think he meant HMMM as in, she was totally digging on black guys or do you think he meant HMMM as in, this white chick just posted the most racist blog of all time?

Her: Marisa - Oh My God - why would you write that stuff?

Me: Dude, you never see movies with naked guys in it! I just wanted to say I thought it was hot! Oh Wait, I did see Kevin Bacon’s wiener in Wild Things... HA HA...

Her: Yeah, Kevin Bacon is hot too... But that’s like me saying the guys in Schindlers List were hot because they were naked right before they went into the incinerator!

Me: True, and I *MAY* have said something about Schindlers list as well - I KNOW I KNOW - but they were all skinny and stuff - I’m talking about Kimora’s baby daddy here....

Her: OH TOTALLY, that Djimon guy is HOT!

Me: I KNOW! So, now how do I explain to this guy that my dad is black, my cousins are black, that my ex and other roommate were black? He’s totally gonna think I’m pulling the old white girl “Oh no no, I didn’t mean it like THAT way - my best friend is black”... routine. You know there’s no way he read my backblog. OH MY GOD!

Her: Yeah, good luck with that.

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It pretty much went like that.
My whole life goes like that.

Let me properly introduce myself. “I’m Marisa. I’m awkward and NEVER pass up an opportunity to put my foot in my mouth!”

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Me with my ex Khari
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My favorite cousin Sunny
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Me, my dad, & brother

Eh...

So here's a little about me. I hate being alone. I'm fully capable of being alone and I was raised an only child in the country many miles from civilization and I am MORE than capable of entertaining myself. However, I don't like it. (This doesn't include going to my parents house, I'm sure I could always hang out there)

Anyways, a lot of my friends are pretty free and fancy free. They have an open door policy and you can sorta show up whenever. I refuse to do that. Even if someone says "Yeah, we're going to "blah blah blah" later..." I need them to actually say, "WOULD **YOU** LIKE TO COME?" I will not show up to an open ended invitation. I would so much rather be alone than have someone be ambivalent to whether I showed up or not.

However, people always say, Marisa, if you are feeling low or sad or whatever, CALL US. Lean on your friends. Don't sit at home and be that way. So I call. And I get an "uhhhh, yeah..." REJECTION! I'm reading into it I'm sure. I'm extra sensitive I'm sure. Every reasonable explanation in the book I'm sure.

So... Maybe it's my problem, maybe I'm too sensitive. Or maybe my feelings are hurt because I have NEVER EVER asked for help or told someone "I need you" and I made myself vulnerable to them and I finally did that and .............. nothing.

Rejection is really hard for me to cope with. Sometimes it's perceived rejection. I think a lot of times I prefer to text because then there's a distance there. Then it doesn't "sting" so much when the rejection comes.

Eh. So I put it all back in perspective now. I'm okay being alone. I'm finding a way to turn off all that "NEED" that I have. So there ya go, that's a little bit about me.

AND THE SAGA CONTINUES...

There is a conflict inside me all the time. Something so good, so bright, so happy that could never be stopped, lest I turn around and see I’m followed closely by something equally as bad and dark and sad! And all with a measure of confidence and doubt added in, nothing is ever easy for me.

I spend A LOT of time trying to really figure out who I am. Not just what the voice in my head says, because she will flip flop on you - trust me, but where my true heart is. I’m always evaluating my intention, my motives, but I never seem to land on solid ground. Every question leads me to another question.

For the holiday’s I decided to bake... (I’ll add my own real pictures later...)

I made these:


and I bought these:


and I spent hundreds of dollars and SO MANY hours baking and wrapping and taking care of every detail in the ingredients and carefully placing every piece of tape and ribbon and I poured my little heart into it (You know, I can only cook with love) I left one for my housecleaner, and I made enough for almost everyone at work... and I passed them out today...

And then I came back to my office and I cried. Cried that everyone would roll their eyes at me for going overboard. Cried that I made THIRTY and was still 10 short. Cried that some might think the motivational book was pushy and presumptuous. Cried that 1 guy is diabetic and I didn’t take the extra time to get him something special. Cried because sometimes people hate me no matter what I do. Cried because I thought my motive was one of warmth and giving and doing something for them that I would want them to do for me, and then realizing my true motive was probably a sad and desperate plea for people to like me - and NO ONE will ever like a sad and desperate girl. UGH...

Contradiction

Yeah... That always sums it up for me. I am everything. No 1 thing is ever the answer.

I am fighting.
        Yet I’ve given up.
I am strong.
        Yet so powerless.
I am happy.
        Yet filled with such great sadness.
I am love.
        Yet bitter inside.
I am hope.
        Yet numb and dead already.

I just don’t know. I have these moments of clarity, breaths of fresh air, light... But they are always tempered with contradictions. Confusion, trapped, panic, and darkness. UGH.

I would say if people defined me by my passions they would somehow involve work, food, sleep, and music. But all of those have left me for now. And I feel bad for my friends and family. My mom is trying so hard to help. I don’t know how to kindly take this out of her hands. Lord knows what they think of me. I mean, I’m not even nice anymore. It takes so much energy just to maintain my composure, I just show up and grace everybody with my bad attitude. I walk around with my arms crossed and my voice with no inflection. I’m sure this isn’t the reaction they would want from me... Marisa, the most hyper, lively, arms flailing about, talking a mile a minute person they remember.

I know... this too shall pass...
RIGHT?

I guess I don’t write much about my mom. Well, that’s not true, I’ve written a few things about her in the past (years ago), but that was a rough time in my life, and my reactions to her then were simply a product of that devastating time. My mom and I are 2 exceptionally strong willed stubborn women. We’re also extremely passionate and pretty hyper-sensitive to everything. You can only imagine the two of us together. The same, but SO different - it’s bound to be volatile... and usually comical too. But I love her and she loves me. It’s just our thing - our dance. I don’t think she believes I love her, but if only she knew how much I do. How much I’ve changed my entire life, just so she could be in it. Just takes time I guess.

Here’s what I find fascinating about life. We are ALL this way. We are all the same, yet SO SO different. Part of my struggle some days is how to fit in. I want to do what is good and happy and reassuring to others. (without losing myself) But all I really know how to do is treat people like I like to be treated. But some days I think I am totally crazy and so, like some fucked up Seinfeld episode, I pull a George and try to do the opposite of what my instinct says. Ha Ha

I notice this happening alot. I have a friend who is constantly saying and doing things that get me all worked up. That totally drain me. I’m confused as to how he is so confused. However, when I stepped back, what I really heard him saying is - “This is how I would like to be treated. This is what I would like someone to say to me. This is what I need.” We’ve talked about it and he admitted as much. But WOW did I have the opposite reaction! Sorry “friend”...

The same, but so different.

I have another friend to whom I just sent an email. I hope he doesn’t mind me sharing an excerpt of what I said to him. It was basically me saying, “Hey what’s up, I don’t know what to do... so I’m gonna tell you personal truth about me and see if it resonates. Or at least excuses the fact that I might not be reacting how you want me to, but my intention is in the right place and I hope you can see that... and also, since I don’t know what to do, will you to tell me what to do?” I wonder if that’s what he took away from the email? LOL

Here’s the part about the personal truth:

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It's weird cuz my reactions to trauma and despair is to be like an injured animal. I want to run off into the woods and lick my wounds until things are better - in solitude. When it comes to my life I have a pretty rigid grip on serious decisions being made by me and only me. I have to do it myself. Learn it for myself (Even if it's the hard way) Make up my own mind. So, that makes friends sort of a dead issue. You can sit there and stare at me and listen to me and hug me and none of it changes anything until I come to it myself, until I'm ready. I like to just SIT thru the uncomfortableness until it passes.

But then I think back on some horrible times and I remember the few people who didn't forget about me. Who checked on me. Sometimes who just left me little things on my doorstep or sent me an email with no expectation of return conversations because I had no energy to do so, or came and forced me out every once and a while. And THOSE few people I will love forever because I was incapable of giving anything back and yet they expended the energy to show kindness anyways.
------------

That is my natural reaction. To retreat. I don’t want to talk about it. Think about it. Have you touch me. Hug me. (Did you see the contradiction in the above too? cuz I kinda do... LOL)

Actually, as I’m typing this I’m thinking how unfair I am. I don’t trust many people. I don’t think many people see much value in me. Well, I think people see value in me when it’s EASY. When I’m happy and fun and generous... When I cater your party... When I spend money on you... But what about when it’s difficult? When I don’t laugh, or go out, or have anything good to say? Who is willing to hang in there with me? I don’t know if that’s a subconscious thing or not, but I’ll apologize now for basically admitting that a small part of my funk is now an admitted “test”... Oh brother, am I that typical of a woman? ha ha

SO, where am I going with all this? I don’t know. It’s all the same old thing. Me just rambling about where I am on the roller coaster of life. I don’t think it’s solving anything, but it does feel relatively therapeutic to write it all out. Maybe part of it is a whisper to my friends to hang in there with me. Let me work it out on my own. We’ll see what happens.

So much more to learn

Ever wonder how much MORE there is to figure out? I'm just starting to realize there is A LOT more...

This last week has led me to realize I'm not anywhere ready to step foot in the public. I just don't know what to do. I've had the revelation that I am the source of uncomfortable tension for others. Whether it's friends, lovers, or family - I'm the one that causes them to mutter 'fuck... What do I do with her?".

This sucks...

There is SOO much going on in my life. Some which I'll talk about, some which I won't. I still have so many hang ups too. Religion is really working on me right now. I don't know what to do. All i know is at this point, I'm avoiding the whole thing. Acceptance is my primary concern, and based on my past experiences organized religion doesn't offer anything close to that to me. It offers structure and rules and a support group of policers to make sure you stay within the confines of that structure. But step outside of that support and that acceptance, that love, is gone!

So I sit here surrounded by people who say everything I want to hear. 'we love you' 'we're so glad to see you' 'we want to know everything about you' 'how can we help' it goes on... But I don't believe them. I want to, but it brings tears to my eyes even as I type this. My flight instinct is hard to ignore right now. I want to go where no one knows me. I want to go where no expectations are placed on me. It just seems so easy to just walk away.

Yet all that is my fault. I put myself back in this predicament for the love of my family, my brother. Unfortunately, it feels as good to be back as it does hurt to be back. I had no way of knowing what would happen after I opened pandoras box.

So, now here I am. I cringe at even the word 'bible'. Yet for hours on end each week I smile and show up for meetings and bible study so that everyone else feels good about their place in this world. (and I'm not even participating at half what I should) Little do they know the price I'm paying on the inside. It is a fire storm of torment in my stomach. In my heart. I clinch my teeth and pinch the inside of my arm until it bruises to keep from screaming out. To keep the smile on my face. To keep the anger and the tears inside.

They must see the strain in the back of my eyes. The lump in my throat. Yet they hug me. They touch my hair. They compliment. They 'encourage'. I want to run and never look back. However, I don't want to be the person filled with negativity and hate and anger. I don't want to crush their souls and take from them what they've taken from me. So I simply smile.

You know what's the worst? That I fear this is just me. The entire world derives comfort from these things. Faith. Strength. Hope from these things. So here I claim I want to be a good person. A balanced person. A well rounded accepting open happy loving person. So how long do I sit in my house until I can truly be around people and be all those things when this huge area of their lives comes up?

I hear what some of u say. 'it's not this way' 'we've never had experiences like that' 'the bible teaches love and acceptance at it's core and anything different is a misinterpretation' okay - I hear you. But it doesn't change where I am right now. What I've committed to. Ugh!

And in essence, I think I'm a very spiritual person. I think it's all just a matter of language. When I get up in the morning and 'set my intention' many of you would call that prayer. When I'm at a loss for words and I plead to the 'universe' or 'mother earth' you could substitute the words god or jesus. When i try to live a good life and be a good person its the same as you... So why do I have to say its because of the bible? Why does whatever brings you comfort have to bring me the same? Can't it be different? Or is it me? Am I resisting something I shouldn't? Usually when I have such a strong and adverse reaction to something it's me that's out of line. Sigh.


Want the real truth? I'm so tired. I'm so Empty. How do i fix this or fix myself or change my thinking? How can I give what I don't have? How do I recharge? I can't get away from the constant drain. I don't even know how to be a friend. I just work and I 'maintain'... But I fantasize about just walking out the door and never coming back. I'm lonely, but I'm already alone.

I just want you:
To like me.
To be nice to me.
To want me around.
To choose me.
To stay...
Yeah, but I've heard it all before...

So maybe it goes a little deeper than just religion. The distrust came from my religious experience, but the despair... That's all me. Ha!

I just sat next to a priest with his beads and hand movements and robes and his bible in Latin. I'm uncomfortable.

I have a SCREAMING baby behind me which is easily heard over my iPod. I'm tired.

I'm sitting in a row of chairs right now. All empty. Did I mention the whole row is EMPTY? Why does this lady sit down right next to me? She's RIGHT here. I'm touching her with my elbow. I'm beyond tense.

Does no one see? I don't have the energy to deal with this. I don't want to walk... I want to run...

Mother earth, Can't it just work out? Hey YOU, Can't you just choose me? And YOU, Can't you just enjoy my presence and not try to change me? And can't you over there just be real. Why is it all so hard?

I haven't left yet. My stuff is packed but I'm going to try it for one more day. Maybe tomorrow will be better...

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UPDATE
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Tonight I'm going to my parents. My brother and his wife are in town from New York. You know, that brother who I haven't spoken to in 4 years. (Even after I've been reinstated...) That brother whose wedding I wasn't invited to. That brother who lives and works at the religious organization headquarters that's caused me so much tribulation. That brother... Can't wait to go and get "hugs" and "happiness" and "love" from someone who doesn't give a shit about me. We'll laugh and we'll smile and he'll ask "So how have you been?" and I'll say "Fine"... {I'll wonder how I summarize 4 years of emotional hell into one word} We'll eat dinner and talk about how god is good. {I'll throw up a little bit in my mouth and pinch myself to hold back the bitterness I have inside} We'll tell stories from our childhood. {I'll feel like I don't even know him and decide I don't want to.} Time to go and play nice. {Time to take that valium I have hidden in my jewelry box}

Tell me again why I shouldn't just walk away?