who’s been reading my blog?

it’s been a bit since i’ve written…whoopsie.  i wonder who’s been reading.

 

according to my “stats”, some people actually searched for the title of my blog.  that’s interesting.  that means that there are people looking for it specifically.  cool, dude.

so my new side project is an album of “me ‘n my shitty shoes”.  I’m pretty excited about it….

living life to the foolist….

'Broken Heart' by Starry Eyed Kid

it’s pretty obvious that i have some relationship issues.  i mean, we all do, there is nothing special or remarkable about mine…except for the fact that i am a woman.

women are socially conditioned to nurture, please, and put everyone else before themselves.  this is why some of us feel tremendous amounts of guilt for things as small as sending back food at a restaurant or buying ourselves a new pair of pants.  my roommate and i had this discussion a few weeks ago.  shopping for clothing is a traumatic experience that haunts and taunts us.  what the hell is wrong with us?

so in my most recent romantic escapade i tried to stay as present and aware of my own feelings and not put his feelings before mine… and i think i succeeded.  but it was so emotional for me–even though i KNEW the situation was bad, i threw myself into it.  and while i was tormented, stressed, and sad most of the time, he was happy as a clam.  and i wasn’t the one with a monogamous partner overseas!  i’m free as a bird-no boyfriend, partner, etc yet I was worried???  this is saying something, folks…he was calm, smooth and collected despite the fact that he was kind of dating me, yet has a monogamous partner…HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? 

he and i were walking around the city (something we did on several occasions for hours on end) and we were talking about how great it is to be in our twenties.  i mentioned that one of the old male professors  i work with lectures me almost every day on living life to the fullest–and my romantic interest said, “yep, that what we’re doing.  living life to the fullest–or foolist…”

who’s  the fool?

dumb fucking luck

in  a city of 8 million people, one wouldn’t expect to bump into an ex boyfriend, lover, or friend, right?  WRONG.  this is the smallest fucking city you can imagine.

i had a very short-lived fling with a musician boy who i bumped into while going down into the subway on the lower east side.  awkward?  i think so.  then tonite i went to an open mic nite (very first one in NYC, might i add) and as i approached the sandwich board outside noticed the name of a band that ANOTHER boy i briefly dated is in.  WTF?  Do i have a flag on me saying “hey, NYC, fuck me over today please!?!”  holy shit.

this city is so small…it’s kind of ridiculous.

blurry on da'subway

my oprah, “AHA!” moment…

so i have ‘commitment’ issues…this is not new information to me, but every once in a while someone brings up this fact and i’m like ‘oh yeah, i forgot…” .  how do i reconcile my commitment issues?  i seek out relationships with men who can’t be in relationships.  usually they have intimacy issues, an ex-wife, a girlfriend etc.  now i do not consciously do this–but it so happens that i (usually) pursue guys who eventually dick around, but in actuality, i KNEW they would dick around…i think i’m afraid of 2 things.

1:  I will find someone worth the work, pain, anguish and happiness, then be terrified of losing him, and, more importantly:

2: If i focus my concern on someone else, and blaming someone else for my unhappiness, I never have to face my own demons.

So I was riding the train into work this evening and had this oprah ‘aha’ moment…my issues have nothing to do with mat the musician, or jake the douchebag, or dan the librarian…my issues are MINE.  i need to find something for MYSELF to be happy and stop trying to distract myself with dumbshit guys who are even more clueless than i am…and i’m pretty fucking clueless.

so yes, this is my moment people…let’s see what i choose to do with it…i got the oprah line from this show.  SO FUNNY.

dear huge piles of laundry,

my laundry...

i know how much you want to be washed, but for some reason i cannot bring myself to washing you.  it’s not as if your size diminishes, in fact, you only get bigger.  maybe i’m defying my adult responsibilities to return to a happier time of youth.  but wait, i had a horrible youth…

laundry, this is all i ask.  stop judging me.  stop shaking your head as i walk past ignoring your disapproving gaze.  stop sighing loudly when the dogs knock you over and make you into their bed, stop threatening to tell my mother on me.  because for now, dearest smelly clothes, this is how it shall remain.

sincerely,

dahlia

fucking patriarchy!

okay…okay…i don’t like being harassed verbally walking down the street every day, but it happens. it happens every morning noon and night no matter where i go (or any woman for that matter). we hear “hey baby”, “looking good”, “ey mami”, “mmmmm beautiful”, etc constantly. hearing it from dirty old men on the street is one thing, experiencing it in the hallways of my teaching job is another.

i was walking past my department bulletin board and one of the older male professors said “my, there sure are a lot of women’s studies classes.” and i said, “yes it’s wonderful. I teach women’s studies!” I was beaming with pride with this statement. his response was, “i wouldn’t be too proud of that if i were you.” and then he looked at my ass and my legs and said, “why don’t you try men’s studies?” I stood there, speechless and stunned.

i stormed into my classroom, slammed my things down and said, “students, you will not believe what just happened to me.” I explained the story, much like how i did here, and one of my male students replied, “you know you like it”.

OH HELL NO. i was off. “excuse me? you think i WANT that attention? you think i LIKE it? you thing i hope to GET it? That’s like saying girls are ASKED to be raped, or harassed or assaulted. Ladies in this class, do you like that kind of attention?” (responses were: ‘no’, ‘that’s annoying’, ‘it’s scary’). “yeah, yeah that’s right. how many of you women hate it?” (all raised their hands). “THANK YOU. so men, before you decide to cat call, think about this little lesson today. also, keep this in mind: do you want someone talking to your sisters like that? your mother? your daughter??? NO. so THINK ABOUT THAT!”.

OH SHIT! i was so feisty. when i told my second class the story, a few students stood up and said “where he at? who said that? you don’t talk to my professor that way.” it.was.amazing.

i love my job…but it can be really hard sometimes.

grown-ups

rough tuesday…

this past tuesday was a rough day. in addition to recovering from the minor heartache i was experiences, a whole slew of events occurred.   the next post entitled “fucking patriarchy” will explain what happened at school in more detail, but basically i was insulted and sexually harassed by another professor.  yeah, not-so-awesome.

after this i went home and watched a wonderful movie, but it happened to make me cry…a lot…it could have been as a result of a weakened emotional state, but regardless, i was inconsolable.  once the movie was over, my mom called me to let me know she had been in a horrible car accident.  that was it.  that was the straw that broke dahlia’s back. mom is fine, thank goodness.  miraculously she has no broken bones or visible signs of trauma, though i am still worried about internal stuff (even though they did a scan of her head and body).

so after calling 3 or 4 people, bawling my eyes out, i decided to go out and do something positive.  i went to get a pumpkin with my friend, didn’t end up finding one, so we had apple cider and latkes at “an nyu student’s staple”,  veselka coffee shop.

picture from yonyc.net

while chatting and eating, i started to fade.  the emotions from the last several days were overwhelming and i felt like i had just been smacked in the head with the sleepy stick.

heading home around 11pm, i snuggled into bed with my little ones and went to sleep, happily knowing that wednesday was my day off and i could just recover from a remarkably difficult day.

portions for foxes

every once and a while a book or song or movie comes along and i think “damnit!  i shoulda written that!”  that’s how i feel about rilo kiley’s song ‘portions for foxes’.  apparently i’m not alone in this, most people i know who know the song think the same thing, but it’s just SO GOOD.  so here it is, for your enjoyment.

Rilo Kiley: Portions For Foxes

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