Love is Like Falling (Falling is Like This)

January 16, 2013 By
Shh, don't tell.

Shh, don’t tell.

I like to think I am tough. That I am a realist or at least have some realistic views on the world. Although, if I were to be honest and realistic right now, I would concede that rarely I can be optimistic and mostly I can be pessimistic, or at least doubtful. I experience random bouts of optimism on my future. Feeling like I am no longer the flaky chick who tells people she has found her direction on what she think she should be or do professionally, then changes her mind a week or less later. Letting the doubt creep in and take over. Looking for an easier direction in the very back of my private mind hoping to simply crash into my Knight in Shining Armor who will rescue me by motivating me to do better and be better. I’m just being honest — and a little vulnerable right now.

In my mind, I treat it as a fantasy. I know in my mind, logically, I shouldn’t have to need a connection with someone to want to succeed in my life. Don’t harp on me, please.

I was originally trying to say I am a hopeless romantic in a tough, don’t fuck with me exterior and I favorite that about myself and it has always been a little secret and if others know, it’s because I am a terrible liar/actor. Disney sucked my brain out, I guess. Or maybe The Notebook even though I am not a fan of Nicholas Sparks, nor do I think the book did any justice to the movie. Yes, I said that. Yes, you can quote me. No, I didn’t mean it the other way around. The script was better than the book. I also love movies like Nana which is a Japanese flick based off the anime of 2 girls falling into a deep friendship with each other and love with their respective partners. Not each other’s, their own. I also like the kooky movie 2 Days in Paris. I love the movie Like Crazy. I love hearing about other people’s relationships. Forgetting I’ve loved and then remembering I had. Very deeply. Trying to remember what it was like to be loved.

With Sex and the City (HBO series, not movie), I was a huge Aidan fan. Huge. I thought Big was terrible and I couldn’t understand why Carrie loved Big. It was hard for me to see that Big loved Carrie at all. I was like all of Carrie’s girlfriends, mostly Miranda because she was the one who saw the least redeeming value in Big. It wasn’t until the movie, did I truly get it and understand. I think I rooted for Aidan so hard because he reminded me of Jorge. Just make Aidan Colombian and give him the Latino temper and there he is. The love Aidan showed for Carrie was what Jorge showed for me. Aidan didn’t last, neither did Jorge and I.

Sometimes I think one and done. As if you only ever have that one true and crazy connection in your life and those who come after, if it doesn’t last, are never going to be what was. Never is anything really what was and a lot of people believe that each romantic love you experience is different. I’ve had different. I didn’t like them. I don’t really eat ice cream, but work with me here. It’s like if your most cherished relationship was a flavor of ice cream and for some reason, though you’ve had it for a while, they are discontinuing it. You can never have that flavor ice cream again. So what do you do? You try a couple different flavors and they don’t add up. You feel like you’re settling. So you get an ice cream maker. You buy the ingredients to make your favorite flavor, but it will never taste like the original and you have to be satisfied with that.

I don’t want to be satisfied. I don’t want to settle for any less of a relationship than what I want. I want to be crazy in love. I want to love as hard as we fight. I want to always feel like I am falling. I want reality. Fights on the air conditioning temperature, spending, bills, to have kids or move or whose family are we going to for the holidays or if we want to see our respective families at all. I want to lose all inhibitions with that person, while completely sober. I want it all. I want it all because I have once had it. And I am not going to give up until I find better. I’d be better off alone than to settle. I’m not the settling type.

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Post inspired by today’s The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt.

Filed Under: Personally Me Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

You is for You

December 4, 2012 By

“Either the memory of past bliss is the anguish of to-day; or the agonies which are have their origins in ecstasies which might have been. ”
—Edgar Allan Poe

Jorge and I met in a technical arts college. Every program starts out with a couple of Gen Ed classes. I was in Film and my two roommates were in Digital Arts Media. Catreena, Myra and myself sat in a row and with the excitement of being out away from family, having a month before school to really get acquainted and accustomed to one another and starting a school that was solidly based on our interests (no academics like algebra and trig or college comp) was enough to have us giggling and joking before the class started.

Treena noticed Jorge first and was interested because he was opposite of everything she usually went for. Her norm was little ghetto boys like the ones that the Recording Arts program tended to attract. Jorge noticed me and was interested because I was cute and little and that’s what he liked. I fit the profile, you could say. Somehow he and I started talking online outside of the joking Tree, My and I used to do with him since he sat in front of us in class. There was a bet and if I was right he had to take me to get some ice cream. I ended up being right and he asked while we were leaving the building if I wanted to go. I said sure, but since I’m shy when people get me alone and I’m not stupid just to go off with him, as he is a 6’3″ Colombian who was cute, but you just never know. He could probably kill me blinded with one arm tied behind his back. I’m 5’2″ and at the time my weight was a buck o 5. So I turn and yell to My “Wanna go to DQ with us?” and she comes along as my punky third wheel. Jorge was annoyed with this, I find out later.

Jorge, before going into his major, wanted to change it. My and Tree are were trying to talk him into D.A. and he looked to me and asked my major. I told him Film and so he decided he wanted Film, too. Each program is an accelerated program so classes range between 4-8 weeks depending on the intensity of the class. Since Jorge and I started classes at the same time, we had all the same classes together.

I moved in with Tree and My in March, we started classes in April. June is My’s birthday and I should have had a small hint of what I was getting myself into at her huge birthday bash we had. When I am loaded I am fun and happy and sociable. I am a fun drunk and my personality may be exaggerated, but it’s still happy and fun. I was bouncing around talking to people and joking and killing it at beer pong and doing shots of tequila with Tree. Well when I was out on our balcony I was talking to a guy who was sitting to the right of me with the his back to the slider and Jorge was across from me. I don’t remember the incident of the guy touching my leg like Jorge claimed, but Jorge breaks an empty long neck beer bottle he had been drinking with one hand. Had I not been drunk, or foolishly in lust with him, I would have taken this as a serious warning. Instead, my drunk ass is getting things and mending his hand. It never gets brought up after that day and I never told anyone until after our relationship was over.

Another night I had been with Tree and My at their friend’s apartment and everyone was doing shrooms. I had never done a shroom so I figured what the hell. Jorge was quite the druggie in his youth and quit everything when he turned 18. He had been trying to get ahold of me and asking what I was doing. I didn’t feel shit from the shrooms so I tell him to meet me at my apartment. He’s angry that I was out, at least that’s what I think it was, but when we are arguing he notices my eyes are dilated and asks what I’ve been doing. I tell him and he blows up. I keep trying to tell him I’m not even high or trippin’ or whatever shrooms do to you. He doesn’t care. I go into the bathroom and look at my eyes and to me they looked fine, they reacted normally to the bathroom light. I tell him I m going to take a bath and then I hear a bang followed shortly by a slamming front door. I get out and I see he’d grabbed a knife from the kitchen and stabbed it into my bedroom door. Sign number 2.

Tree, My and I end up fighting about the fact I am always with Jorge and he is always at our apartment. I am mad at Tree because she cannot seem to keep from going into my room when I’m not home. I move out into my own place near where Jorge lives with his mom and sister.

December comes and Jorge’s family takes me to New York with them for Christmas vacation. We stay in Queens with Jorge’s Uncles. One morning when we are getting ready to leave, I’m on the floor shoving my clothes into a suitcase. Jorge picks up an empty coke bottle and tosses it my way saying I need to go throw it away, it hits me in the head. So I grab it as he is standing at the corner of the bed behind me and swing back to whap him on the calf. Before it even makes contact he grabs my arms and whooshes me up bringing me within an inch of his face and screams (paraphrased), if you ever try to hit me again I’ll fucking kill you, bitch. Then throws me like a rag doll onto the bed. I may have been scared but I yelled something at him and ran up the stairs and as I was on my way out of the house his mother yells down asking what was going on.

“I thought I understood it. But I didn’t. I knew the smudginess of it. The eagerness of it. The Idea of it. Of you and me.”
—Anna Like Crazy

I run up to tell her and his sister and his mom’s response is never to raise a hand to a man. One, I was on the floor. Two, I didn’t think he was serious about anything until he had me face to face. So I said whatever and walked out of the house and called my mom and sister in hysterics. They were about to book me a flight home when Jorge kept calling. We made up and when we got back, my apartment had been robbed and I still needed to finish school so my only option was to move in with him and his family.

That was fun. I fought with his sister, I fought with him, I fought with his mom; it was drama most the time. Then I found out I was pregnant. It didn’t go full term (luckily) and I ended up going home getting a D&C which Jorge refused to come with me.

Jorge was strange. The longer our relationship went, the more he didn’t want to come down with me to see my family and friends, eventually he didn’t want me going at all. We fought and I ended up moving out for good after school when he’d held me down and yelled as loud as he could into my ear. And he tore up the caricature of us that I bought from Islands of Adventure. When he tore that up, I wanted to destroy him. The last time I saw him was November 13, a while after I had moved out, I drove up to talk with him and to figure out if we were done for good.

Even with all that shit, I don’t know if I will feel as much love for anyone else as I did for him. It was crazy, passionate, insane love. He never struck me, but he isolated me, was verbally abusive at times (me too), was not afraid to show how jealous and controlling he could be. But I could be me around him. I was most comfortable with him. I had no fear of intimacy with him.

I think this is why Alice’s relationship with Dipshidiot scares me. I think this is exactly why. That and the fact he looks like he would kill someone if put in the right situation.

I think with Jorge though, it was immaturity. I am not going to make excuses, but I’m also not going to say I was an angel and didn’t get violent in my own ways with Jorge.

I want that crazy, insane love again though. I want the silly yelling matches. I want the passion and love and silliness in general.

Now you get an idea, though, of the man that I still cry about every now and then. The man I can sit here and say I loved more fiercely than any other man I’ve been with. If he walked back into my life today, I don’t know if I’d be able to say no to him if he wanted our relationship back. He won’t though. It’s over.

“I’m looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can’t-live-without-each-other love.”
—Carrie Bradshaw Sex and the City

Filed Under: Personally Me, Relationships, Ridiculousness Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Preventing Unwanted Pregnancies

November 13, 2012 By
Spreading awareness to use protection against unwanted pregnancies.

Honestly. Yeah. You can go away now. Ciao!

When it comes to unwanted pregnancies, this country tends to automatically think of Teen Pregnancy. Yes, teen pregnancy is high, but what are you going to really do about it? Sew girls legs shut until they’re 30? Drug teen boys up so they can’t get an erection? If you watch Teen Mom and 16 & Pregnant (as obsessively as I do) most of those girls did know about protection and sex, they just thought they were the exception. We all think we’re the exception — oh, I can do a little coke, I’m not going to get all crazy like Bobby McGee. Ashley died in a drunk driving accident, that won’t happen to me, I am a much better driver even if I’ve had a couple.

Some people think having shows on like Teen Mom and whatnot is doing a disservice to the youth of today, that these girls in the show that are struggling to get by and make it through are glamorizing teen pregnancy. Teen pregnancy in this country has gone down since those shows. They are watching those girls’ relationships fail, trying to figure out how much money they have and will need to be able to get the baby diapers and all the other fun stuff that comes with caring for a human being that’s not yourself. They are seeing these girls having to put themselves and their desires and wants on the back burner in order to do what’s best for the child they mistakenly had.

They are even seeing the struggle of a teen couple that chose adoption for their child. Seeing how hard it can be because you love your baby, but you know your baby needs a loving stable household to get to have a better life than what you grew up with and can offer. The only surviving couple on that show is the couple that chose adoption. Doing so they were able to graduate high school, go onto college and are getting married sometime in the future.

Farrah kept Sophia but unfortunately had to deal with the demise of her child’s father. She was able to be successful with having Sophia because she has a huge family support system. Without her family, her struggles would have been a lot worse.

My point is, teen pregnancy isn’t the only unwanted pregnancy issue we have. There are women of all ages and stages that are finding themselves with a none to happy accident. I am 100% pro-choice — with limitations such as only early term abortions and I think it would be best if a system was in place that women could not use it as a form of birth control — but we need to get ourselves educated and keep educated.

When I was in college, I found myself pregnant with Jorge, the love of my life. I was on Depo Provera and had forgotten to get my shot October 18th so on January 18th, I walked into the Planned Parenthood and was told by a nurse that I missed a shot and would need a pregnancy test before she could give me this shot. Jorge and I were like rabbits, not that you really need to know that, but I didn’t think much of it. She walked into the exam room with a grim look to her face and said, “Sarah, you’re pregnant.”

The reaction I felt was sheer terror. As if I had been shot through the heart and it wasn’t by Cupid’s arrow. I seriously was in such shock that the words that came tumbling forth were, “You’re kidding me.” The lady was extremely obtuse and said like a stern teacher, “I don’t kid about these things.” I wanted to kick her in the teeth. She started going over some pamphlets, but I didn’t hear anything she was saying, I took them and walked out of the Planned Parenthood. I barely made it to my car when the uncontrollable sobs came on and I could barely breathe.

Jorge was in class so I texted him that I needed to see him now and he said to meet him in the courtyard. I told him the news and continued to cry and he just simply held me without saying a word. He went back to the class to get his things then we went home where I proceeded to call my mom.

I don’t know if it was the hormones, but I couldn’t sleep and would keep Jorge up crying that I didn’t want to be pregnant. I don’t know why I felt that way. Most women get all happy, I was anything but. I was the most depressed I’d been in my life. I would call my mom almost every night at the most insane hours of the night and tell her how I couldn’t do this. I didn’t want to do it. She of course would tell me I can handle anything and it was going to be OK. Jorge refused to tell his mom. She had to know though, I wasn’t a very quiet crier.

Then I saw an OBGYN outside of Planned Parenthood. The news I was getting is that the embryo/fetus/whatever it’s called wasn’t developing enough to where it needed to be. He had me come in every week almost to see if there was a change. There wasn’t. My sister wanted me to come down to her doctor to get a second opinion and find out what was going on.

That’s when I was told that I had what was at the time called a Blighted Ovum. It is now called ETPF or Early Term Pregnancy Failure. Blighted Ovum sounds better because it doesn’t have the word failure and if you’re a woman trying to get pregnant, I don’t think you want to hear failure come from a doctor’s mouth. I should start a petition about that.

Basically it’s either that a sac has developed without anything inside or that the fetus stopped developing at a young stage. It is believed this happens because there is a genetic abnormality that prevents the baby from developing properly.

I had two choices to pick from; I could miscarry naturally, but take the risk of hemorrhaging or I could have a D&C, which basically means they would knock me out, dilate my cervix and scrape and vacuum out the lining and tissues and all that fun stuff. I chose the D&C so I didn’t end up in an Emergency room either bleeding to death or getting blood transfusions. I don’t really understand why anyone would choose to miscarry. Could there be a possibility that you don’t, maybe, but it’s very slim nowadays with all the technology they have.

Emotionally I couldn’t help the feeling that God/Ala/Zeus/Creator had something to do with this. I would have done anything at the time to get out of the situation of taking such a huge responsibility. I also am thankful that I am not detained to Jorge for the rest of my life.

I will never shake the feeling, though, that having that D&C was a lot like choosing to have an abortion. I would have done anything to not be a mother, but I would have never done that. I am pro-choice, it’s just not a choice I’d take. People don’t understand what a woman or girl goes through when they make the choice to have an abortion. It is not relief after the procedure. Maybe I am wrong and it is to some, but even when you know you’re not in the right frame to raise a child, it still emotionally wrecks you. I’ve seen what my friends have gone through.

Today is a day to spread awareness so that you or someone you know doesn’t have to go through something I have gone through or another has gone through. Even when you think you know, there can be that time you slip and it can end up not being such a pretty fall.

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Crimson & Clover Over & Over

November 10, 2012 By

I went to Plinky because I wanted something thought provoking to write about that made me analyze what something means to me. The prompt that struck me was “What song can you listen to over an over again? Why?”. Three songs came to mind, but I am sure I have several more.

1. ‘Vermillion Pt. 2′ by Slipknot

2. ’3 Libras’ by A Perfect Circle

3. ‘Judith’ by A Perfect Circle

Yes, there is a Pt. 1 to Vermillion, but it’s more lyrically grotesque than I like. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, on to the reasons.

Vermillion Pt. 2

She seemed dressed in all of me, stretched across my shame
All the torment and the pain, leaked through and covered me
I’d do anything to have her to myself, just to have her for myself
Now I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do when she makes me sane.

This first verse of Vermilion Pt. 2 is amazing to me. When it comes on it makes me think of someone I once held too dear to me. “Dressed in all of me” about how I was always caring for her and her needs. “All the torment and the pain leaked through and covered me” I took on all of her troubles, I always wanted to fix her and every time she healed, I hurt. “I’d do anything to have her to myself” sounds creepy as hell, let’s be honest, but when I was hanging out with her I always wanted to build her up and make her feel smart and pretty and protect her from any negativity because to be really honest, she was extremely thin-skinned.

She is everything to me, the unrequited dream
The song that no one sings, the unattainable
She’s a myth that I have to believe in
All I need to make it real is one more reason
I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do when she makes me sad.

The friendship was very one sided where I mostly catered to her and her well-being. Everyone always asked why I was friends with her and didn’t understand our friendship. I cared a lot about her, more than I had really for any of my other friends at the time. I was always there when she needed me and would pick her up in any instance that her and her boyfriend turned husband were arguing. She had some downfalls, but she was my best friend.

But I won’t let this build up inside of me I won’t let this build up inside of me I won’t let this build up inside of me I won’t let this build up inside of me
A catch in my throat, choke, torn into pieces I won’t, no!
I don’t wanna be this…
But I won’t let this build up inside of me I won’t let this build up inside of me I won’t let this build up inside of me I won’t let this build up inside of me
She isn’t real I can’t make her real
She isn’t real I can’t make her real

We had a falling out and it happened to be when I was in the middle of a shit-storm of mania. I don’t remember all the details, but these last pieces of the song help me realize that as much as I put her up on a pedestal, she should have returned the same kind of love and friendship. And when he says, “I don’t wanna be this..” it’s like me saying I don’t want to be so co-dependent. And when sang, “She isn’t real, I can’t make her real” means my friend that I have created to be in my head, she never was and I couldn’t make her.

3 Libras

I threw you the obvious and you flew with it on your back,
A name in your recollection, thrown down among a million same. Difficult not to feel a little bit disappointed and passed over
When I’ve looked right through to see you naked and oblivious
And you don’t. See. Me…

I was sexually abused at 14, but it didn’t involve rape since I was lucky enough to have been menstruating on the day, he did touch and do something else down there, but no penetration thank God. Not even a year later I met Greg. Well I knew him in Middle School, but now he lived 2 doors down from me. We became pretty close friends and I had a mad crush on him because suffice to say he was fucking hot. I liked our friendship, I could go to him with anything and he was just as much as a disturbed teen as I was. Actually maybe more so. He started dating another friend of mine and damn it if I am not territorial. He’d only been dating her like a week or two when Greg and I decided to have sex. Yes, it’s cheating, but we were basically kids I think we deserve a little slack—& I know having sex and being ‘basically’ a kid do not go hand in hand, but that was what it was—it was October 6th, one day after my birthday and 2 days after the chick he was seeing’s birthday.

He’s tall and well endowed so it freaking hurt, but we got accustomed and a whole Orgy album later we were done. I didn’t realize how emotional it would be for me until I got into his shower. I cried. I don’t know if I was crying because I really liked him and I felt cheap now or if I felt as if I indeed lost something. Or if I felt dirty like I did after that creep asshole molested me. Maybe it was all the above. I came back to his room and he asked me if I was OK 15 times and I said I was fine and that I had to go.

But I threw you the obvious
Just to see if there’s more behind the
Eyes of a fallen angel, Eyes of a tragedy
Here I am expecting just a little bit
Too much from the wounded
But I see, see through it all
See through, see you

Greg’s situation was a little much at the time, a little meaning that a girl had trapped (I was her friend so I know for a fact she did since she told me the same story he had) him into having a child with her. Greg changed a lot from that. He harbored more anger than I’ve seen in anyone. Even when he was experiencing different emotions, it was there festering inside. So yes, he was wounded and more so a tragedy.

Cause I threw you the obvious
To see what occurs behind the
Eyes of a fallen angel, Eyes of a tragedy

Oh well, oh well
Apparently nothing,
Apparently nothing at all

You don’t, you don’t
You don’t see me
You don’t, you don’t
You don’t see me at all…

We tried to have a relationship for the first time when we were young adults, before I went off to college and before he moved away. It was oil and water. I drove to see him a couple times when I was back from college and we tried to maintain our friendship. Then he came back here for a visit and for a weird reason wanted to tell me that he had feelings for another girl that had lived on our street and gone to school with us. He was hurt and mad because he had seen her first and she laughed in his face. I tried to explain maybe she was just taken back since when he dated her once when we were young, he cheated on her bad (not with me). He told me not to tell her that he told me this, but her and I hung out and when I was tipsy with a few girlfriends it came out and Greg dropped completely out of my life. He was my first real crush and this song is my song to him because I first heard it when I was hanging out with him in his old room.

Judith

As much as many people say that Maynard is against religion, he sure makes a lot of songs that touch on it, in fact this whole album that ’3 Libras’ and ‘Judith’ is on, each song kind of brushes topics of religion. He could very well be against organized religion, hell he may be anti-Christian. But his songs almost question the ideas of following such faith and you have to have questions in your faith or you are walking blind. This song is the one that challenges the whole idea of Jesus and religion.

You’re such an inspiration
For the ways that I will Never ever choose to be
Oh so many ways for me to show you
How your savior has abandoned you

That beginning, “you’re such an inspiration for the ways that I will never ever choose to be” is strong. I truly love this song when I am pissed off or need to vent through music which I do a lot. My opinion on this song meaning would be he is talking to those devout believers that walk blindly and question nothing. The close minded, the non-seekers.

Fuck your God, your Lord, your Christ
He did this, took all you had and
Left you this way,
Still you pray, never stray, never
Taste of the fruit, never thought to question “Why?”
It’s not like you killed someone
It’s not like you drove a hateful spear into his side
Praise the one who left you broken down and paralyzed

The first testament of the Bible is supposed to give the history of the way it was before Jesus came down to spread the word of God. Well if you focus on the first testament, which a lot of the Christians don’t, God was very different. He seemed more spiteful. His first spiteful deed being The Tree of Knowledge. The garden of Eden was supposed to be lovely and Adam and Eve true followers of God as they were his creation. If the garden is so wonderful, why would God allow a serpent who is supposedly the fallen angel into the garden to seduce Eve. Why would he create the tree of Knowledge and tell Adam and Eve they could not eat from it. He wanted them to do so. It created free will, but then again he punished them for doing so because it went against his word. It pisses me off that as humans today we still get the painful menstruation and labor for something Eve did. All Adam got was hard work in the fields, I don’t see every man now days working in the fields. The Bible is sexist and created by man and this is why Maynard is saying fuck YOUR God, YOUR Lord, YOUR Christ because the God I believe in (more me speaking than him now) would not be this way. In Leviticus alone, we were allowed to have slaves. That sounds more of a man back then than any Creator telling the man that. Another part that matches the Bible like the Tree of Knowledge is Judith and Jesus. Judith turned on Jesus and Jesus knew it was coming all along and he even said at this last supper that one of his disciples was going to turn on him. It is also being studied to see if Mary Magdalen really was a prostitute that Jesus helped or if she was actually one of his disciples. Wouldn’t that throw the Catholic Church through a loop?

Oh so many ways for me to show you
How your dogma has abandoned you
Pray to your Christ, to your God
Never taste of the fruit, never stray, never break,
Never choke on a lie even though he’s the one who
Did this to you, you never thought to question “Why?”

It’s not like you killed someone
It’s not like you drove a spiteful spear into his side
Talk to Jesus Christ as if he knows the reasons why

He did it all for you…

Music is my life. I don’t play it and when I sing I don’t have the best voice but it helps me to feel all my emotions freely without judgment. What’s better than that?

Filed Under: Debatable, Personally Me Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Pink! It’s Like Red But Not Quite.

October 23, 2012 By

As much as I like to think of myself as pretty hardcore, a ball-busting broad, etc. I love the color pink. This is why my title is pink. It’s not because of Breast Cancer Awareness (some femmes* are pretty pissed the ribbon is pink—I’m on the fence), or that I am a die-hard fan of Victoria’s Secret, or that I am a girly girl (soooo far from it; I can dress up and be pretty, but it’s jeans and a tee for me).

But this makes me wonder why some people are drawn to certain colors, what it says—if anything—about them. We have zodiac, Chinese zodiac, numerology… what about colorology? Guess not since I just coined that word. Some people ascertain that colors bring out feelings in people. Red can cause aggression, hunger and passion. Prisons can have pastel colored walls to hopefully maintain a state of calm and cooperation among inmates.

I don’t mean to bring him up again, but Jimmy’s favorite color that he used in the kitchen and den was red. There was no passion, aggression or hunger really. But maybe our favorite colors reflect what we desire and what we are lacking. Pink could mean a part of me desires to be girly girl; get mani-pedis, dress to impress, wear heels instead of sneakers… yeah, the part of me I know is gagging a bit. Maybe I want to feel more feminine. Well, actually, I do that with lingerie. I’ve always been a kind of jeans and t-shirt chick (except that 1 goth phase in freshman year of high school), but when I was young and had a job without all the bills along with it, I would buy lingerie all the time. I’m feminine, just on the inside.

What’s your favorite color? What do you think it reveals, if anything, about you?

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*I always thought femmes was a nicer way of saying females (I hate when people say females), but thanks to the internet I now know it’s slang for lesbians. I really hope it’s not like the N-word because I mean no offense whatsoever. I like the word and when I hear, use, think it I think Femme Fatale. Just my prerogative. 

 

 

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