Category Archives: what’s up

Let the More Loving Be Me

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T: “If equal loving cannot be, let the more loving be me.”
J: “The person that loves the less is always in control.”
T: “Agreed.”
J: “But if I’m gonna love someone I’m gonna love them with all of my heart! I think that’s the way it should be!”
T: “You big softy! Yes, madly… wholly… absolutely.”
Me: “The one who loves more risks more, but they also experience so much more. Even if I didn’t want to be, that’s the kind of person I am.
T: “I feel the same way.”

Dominic Deegan & The Fourth

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Guess who I sat next to all day and into the evening on the Charles River?

http://www.dominic-deegan.com/view.php?date=2010-07-05

“I drew today’s comic while sitting on the Esplanade in Boston yesterday. It was my attempt to continue an old Fourth of July holiday tradition where my friends gather on the shore of the Charles River and relax all day long until the fireworks light up the night sky.

I was the only one of my friends there this year. Still, I got some sun, got some work done (as much as was possible in the blistering heat) and made some new friends who were not only nice enough to keep me company but made sure I was nice and hydrated as well. Thanks John, Cindy, George, Francine, Alonzo and little Isabella.”

Yes. I’m that Cindy who insisted that our fair web comic hero drink our water.

On the flip side, we played Apples to Apples and Settlers of Catan while I broke out into hives from the sun. The fireworks were even more amazing than last year. A lot happens in a year. While I was watching the fireworks in the same place with many of the same people, we had changed.

The Boy was there; even though he and I have been split since the beginning of last October. It sounds like it’s the last time I’ll see him, however. Apparently I missed the memo that I’m not allowed to continue my pursuit of happiness and companionship after he dumped me. I’m seeing someone we’re both friends with and he’s decided this bothers him. He managed to take it out on a friend of ours more than me who is in no way involved. Classy.

Before anyone jumps to conclusions, we’ve been good enough not to kiss and whatnot when we’re around him. But apparently even just our meaningful glances and an arms around me as the fireworks went off was too much for him.

He wants to be the victim right now. He says we’re no longer friends.

I guess I’m supposed to pretend he didn’t dump me and that it hasn’t been many, many months since. I should feel we did something wrong and let him wallow. He tried to tell me we were being inappropriate, but hugging just doesn’t really capture the menace of what we did. He tried to make it sound like this was new or sneaky when its not. He’s known, but now it bothers him.

I don’t know why now. I don’t know why we even tried to be friends after at all. I told him I was going to pursue this guy and I did exactly that. I told him that I thought he’d hate me for it and he insisted that he might be a bit mad at first but he’d get over it. He insisted we’d still be friends.

So now comes the part where he either disappears from all social gatherings or tries to make it so I’m not welcome at them. This shouldn’t involve our mutual friends, but it will. That bothers me a lot.

I’m just trying to figure out where me and the guy that I AM seeing are, and instead I’m dealing with someone who dumped me quite awhile ago. I know it sounds like good riddance, but it’s like being dumped all over again. I am very loyal to my friends and I don’t take losing them well.

I hate to focus on the negative. The fireworks were amazing. The day was great fun. I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning with the guy I spent all day not kissing.

The good with the bad, it’s how the world works.

Adventures in Peru – Day 1

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Hi all! I took my very first “big-kid” vacation recently. I spent from May 27th to June 5th in Peru exploring ruins, meeting the locals and the llamas, and traversing the Amazon! This vacation was possible due to my dad’s eldest sister (my Auntie) who has promised all of her nieces and nephews that when they graduate from high school and college, she will do a trip with them anywhere in the world as long as you pay for your own transportation (and souvenirs).

If you’re wondering why Peru, it’s more like why not. I was not looking for a vacation to sit back and drink on some beach. I can do that at home, thanks. I was looking for adventure and something very different than where I’m from. More than that, I wanted inspiring landscapes. I hiked up breathtaking mountains that went into the cloud forest and ended in ancient Incan ruins. I stepped, suspended, across the canopy of the Amazon rain forest and paddled close to the Amazonian river beds.

I tried to take as many pictures as possible and jot down some thoughts and experiences in between adventures with my new familia. Honestly, there wasn’t much time. We were always doing, resting, eating, or on our way to our next destination.

May 27th I traveled from Boston, MA; to Miami, FL; and finally to Lima, Peru. I met with Auntie in Miami and we flew to Lima together.

I noticed a very big change in air quality after touching down in Lima and Auntie complained that her eyes felt very red. We’d been sneezing and coughing and she figured that this was because of the bad air on the plane. While waiting for our baggage, a Peruvian woman overheard us talking and said it was the pollution. She explained she had permanent eye problems due to the air quality, which she said was caused by coal mining (the word mining escaped her for a moment while speaking in English). Looking online post trip, it does sound like Lima’s air pollution issue is pretty well known and has more to do with vehicle fuel emissions, but is due to a host of factors. I notice I’m a tad stuffed up the first day visiting New York City, so I was pretty sneezy in Lima.

A sign let us know who to follow to a van to drive us to the Miraflores neighborhood.

Lima is littered with cell phone billboard advertisements. Stray dogs wander the streets in a surprising number, taring into garbage left out for pickup. Police cars watch over the city everywhere. On the way to Hotel Antigua Miraflores I counted stray dogs and police cars, seeing which would come out as the victor in population. Our driver mentioned that Miraflores was one hundred percent secure. By the time we reached the hotel, the number of police cars were in the lead, but the dogs overtook them very quickly as the trip progressed.

The hotel was very fancy, but missing window screens which are apparently not something used in all cultures. We had a big room on the top floor. The top floor was unexpectedly in the open air. One moment we were in a hotel going up stairs, the next we were on an outside patio with doors to various rooms. We were in the far corner. The room had three beds, one king and two twins. The wooden furniture seemed antique, dark stained and elegant. There was jewelry on sale in the lobby and a small open air courtyard on the first floor with a fountain and a flowering citrus tree. Large terracotta vessels dot every bit of landscape. Two computers with desks allowed internet access, but as someone who has a job spent using computers, I wanted to spend my vacation off them.

We didn’t get settled in until about two in the morning since our flight had been delayed. We were set to meet in the lobby at nine-thirty in the morning. We were hungry before bed but too tired to care. I ate my last Cliff bar to make sure I could sleep.

Beautiful Bruises

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WARNING: This post contains a woman’s yearly checkup, mentions of birth control, and shaving. While no graphic details are provided, those who use the letters “TMI” frequently might want to browse away. Oh, and I farted while writing this! :D


It’s getting to be close to that time where I have to make a doctors appointment to have my yearly checkup. If I don’t go, they’ll stop giving me my birth control prescription which will make me sick, sick, sick on a monthly basis. I’m a pretty healthy young woman who works out, doesn’t eat too much crap, doesn’t smoke, etc., so this should be a walk in the park, right?

Unfortunately, that’s not how my appointment last year went. I ended up not having an appointment with my regular doctor since I didn’t want to take a whole day off of work (everything in the morning was booked).

A little more than a month before my appointment is when I started training Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Big surprise, I had more than a few bruises. This happened when I used to play paintball too. I didn’t think much of it before the appointment.

What I’m used to when I go to the doctor is they ask all about how you’re doing with big smiles and what’s going on in your life. They weigh you and listen to your heart. The uncomfortable parts are the down-there-doctoring they have to do, not the social part.

That appointment was awkward all around. I was asked a little about how things were going and I mentioned my new martial arts training which I was very excited about. I was already used to the, “What’s that? Like karate?” reaction, but I didn’t expect the disgust when I explained what it was. This woman might as well have told me to get in the kitchen and find a husband already with the looks she gave me and how little she wanted to hear about it. I don’t know if it was because it sounded scary, manly, or I told her that yes, I train with both men and women, etc. I also didn’t care. This was my doctors appointment. I didn’t expect to be judged on my choice of preferred sports.

Once the actual exam began, so did the questions about my bruises. I’ve already explained that I participate in a full contact grappling martial art, but apparently she was still surprised and confused as to why I had bruises. I reiterated what Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu was and even tried explaining what we’d been working on. I had a good idea of what moves some of the bruises were from. She went from disgust to not believing me. Apparently, if a woman has bruises, she’s being abused by someone and lying about it.

I mentioned that I could prove that I did the martial art if she cared. My membership card is on my key chain. She didn’t care. She didn’t even want to discuss it. She just went on to examine every single bruise and scribble on her notepad. I asked what she was doing, I was told she was ‘documenting’.

She was especially interested in a bruise I had on my chest. That was the obvious clincher someone was abusing me apparently. As I originally typed this, I had a bruise on my chest. No, I don’t know exactly how I got it. It could have been from someone putting on a tight near side armbar on me, with their legs tightly pressed down. It could have been from a too high knee on belly. It could have been from me trying to break someone posture when they were in my guard and them falling and pushing off of me with a hand, elbow, head, whatever. There are a lot of scenarios I can think of. I don’t know how it got there. It’s a bruise the size of a coin. Who cares?

I can’t imagine what women who are being abused go through when they go to the doctor. This woman was not being friendly, warm, or comforting. She came off as accusatory. I am aware that people who are abused in any way, shape, or form usually already think it’s somehow their own fault. With the amount of disgust she was giving off from the beginning, no woman would have felt comfortable admitting anything to her anyways.

I was disgusted and offended on all of those levels. I felt for every woman athlete and every abused woman. I came into the doctors expecting to have the first appointment without the vague questions about, “Well, are you happy with your weight?” since I was working out harder than I ever had in my entire life.

After we moved beyond the bruises, I was asked about my sex life. I am prescribed birth control, so okay, makes sense. I mentioned I was starting to see someone at that point which may or may not turn into something. Once again, no happy comments for me for something I thought was a good thing. I expected a ‘congrats’ or ‘good for you’. What I got was a lecture about condom usage and STDs. I’m sure my little file there said that I’d been on birth control since I was seventeen, not to mention my current age. If you don’t believe I use condoms, I can show you the ones I carry in my purse just in case… but then would she take that to mean I was promiscuous? I was done trying to win with this lady.

The ridiculousness reached a peak when I got a lecture about the razor burns on my bikini line. I have sensitive skin and have tried a lot of things not to get razor burn there and under my arms when shaving. The only thing I’ve found that works 100% is: not shaving. In this case, I’d shaved fairly recently which I’d think any doctor might be thankful for, but no… I was quizzed about why I was shaving so much down there. I just looked at her. Then was told to “be careful” and that I could give myself an infection, etc. I didn’t even get any good tips on how to prevent razor burn. So, thanks for nothing. I’ll just continue to use the shaving gel that claims it’s “Bumps Free!!” and Neosporin afterwards when I do shave…

So, this was a few months shy of a year ago. Since then I’ve been proud of every single bruise I’ve had. To me, it means I’m tough stuff. It’s a symbol that I’m working hard, that I’m not afraid, and that I am training with tough people who aren’t afraid to work hard with me. I’ve never had any injury from Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu that has been doctor-worthy. I don’t usually notice any new bruises until I take a shower later or someone points them out. I actually bruise less and less as time goes on. I think my body is just becoming tougher stuff, because I’ve done the opposite of slowing down.

If this is the reaction I get to some tiny bruises on my body, I can’t wait for a black eye. Bring it on. It’s sad that it doesn’t occur to me to be worried about injuries except with knowing the sexism I’ll have to deal with.

I’ll deal with pride and humor. Maybe I’ll make some Fight Club reference. I’m sure I’ll wear my smile and Gracie Barra t-shirt as accessories. I’m a real kind of woman, the kind that identifies as person first, then a woman. That makes some people uncomfortable. I don’t mind, but I still don’t want to have to deal with their discomfort. Stand aside. I have goals to achieve and fun to have. Guess what? I’ve run all out of bubble gum, and you know what that means…

I like playing Katamari Damacy, but I prefer to roll around in real life. From the mats, with love, me.

Doing What You Do

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When I say I used to do a lot of things I don’t anymore, it’s not an indication of my current commitment to anything I do from day to day. I’ve tried a lot of things over the years, learned about myself through them, and re prioritized as things have become more or less important to me. When I was my little brother’s age, I was playing, and just about quitting, softball. That pre-teen age is that age where we depart from our childhood hobbies in search of something else. We want our own identity rather than the activities inherited by the whims of our parents. That identity quest doesn’t stop at the next line of choices. Rather, it never stops. There are things I started doing at that age and continue to do until this day: writing poetry, keeping journal/sketchbooks, listening to lots of music… And then there are those things I tried and didn’t take. There are also those things that were me in that moment. There were those things that have become less important in place of others over time but still hold some place for me.

Lately, gaming hasn’t really been my thing. I fire up the emulators with classic games from time to time. I play the Wii in groups of the right people. In general, it has fallen by the wayside. I find myself saying more and more, “Oh, my little brother plays that,” rather than, “Oh, I beat that awhile ago.”

On the other hand, I’ve been training Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu 2-4 times a week. I’m looking up videos online, reading about it, watching recordings of UFC fights and I just finished watching Season 5 of The Ultimate Fighter. I’ll be cooking or working on art during the drama-and-fighters-going-blah parts, but when the referee says, “Let’s get it on!” my attention is focused. I might yell at the screen as if it’s live and not a recording. I might refer to that arm triangle as “Beautiful”.

I notice myself talking excitedly to people who have no idea what one martial art is in relation to another. I’ve started referring to it when the subject matter is something else entirely. I do this with gaming too. Yes, I still make those references too.

When cuddling, I may actually be thinking of how I’d roll out of the position or how I could do a kimura from here.

I don’t know that I’m ever going to be great at this, but I just love it. I don’t care if most of the people I roll with are better than me, bigger than me, or are likely to submit me. When someone asks me why I do jiu-jitsu or just makes some assumption, the answer is simpler than you think. I’ve found something I’m passionate about. There are great side effects, but even if they weren’t there, I’d still be rolling around the mats like a katamari.

Snippets of November

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Someone notices some bruises on my arms from my Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes.

“Wow. That’s a lotta bruises.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“New boyfriend?”

“…”

—–

The time goes off meaning that we’re done sparring for that round. The Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu partner I’m rolling with says, disappointed,

“Well that was quick!”

I try very hard not to say “that’s what she said”.

—–

I love the green light my green curtains make in the morning …and there aren’t a lot of things I love about the morning.

—–

I go to a med kit looking for a band aid at one of my Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes for a new mat cut on one of my feet. The med kit only has tape and neosporin.

I guess that makes sense.

—–

Apparently one of the women I roll with at Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is a Maine College of Art alumni like me. She majored in sculpture. Small world…

This also means I might not be as weird as I thought I was.

—–

I hate to think how money has control of my (and other people’s) life. When decisions come up and you see happiness or health versus money, it’s just disheartening.

—–

To all who are going crazy shopping already: if you don’t know what to get someone, avert your eyes from Walmart and look to us artists.

—–

As stated by one of my instructors, “Jiu-jitsu is a full contact sport, believe it or not.”

—–

A guy indicating a MMA practice dummy, “What’s this for?”

“It’s for love of course,” I reply.

“Aw. That makes me feel better,” he hugs the dummy.

—–

The Massachusetts state bird is roadwork. The state flower? Roadwork. The state motto? Fing-A! Roadwork!

—–

Third stripe on my belt. It’s bigger than the others. That doesn’t signify anything except that my instructor grabbed some wider tape.

“Wow. Third stripe. You’re moving up in the world, huh?” he says.

—–

I’m up early for jitsu on the weekends. I hate early. I love jitsu. I’m so conflicted in these weekend mornings…

—–

“So I’m assuming there is no class Thanksgiving, right?” I’m asking about Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes.

“What? You mean… We’re not your family?”

A later comment on this by a third party, “Picture a turkey. Now picture someone in that turkey’s guard. Now consider the verb form of stuffing. I would reconsider the notion of the jitsu boys as family.”

—–

Me: “Dear makers of women’s martial arts apparel: PLEASE STOP IT WITH THE PINK ALREADY. I don’t like pink. I also think women get the ‘O hay look a female doing martial arts’ look often enough without being adorned in mind liquefying pink colors.”

Guy: “It’s just breast cancer awareness gear. Think of it that way. I mean the NFL had to wear cleats or gloves that were pink.”

Gal 1: “I don’t like pink either, Cindy. It seems it’s either pink or that weird baby-electric-blue. Ew.”

Gal 2: “Amen to that. I saw a shirt the other day that was pink with little crowns and said ‘Tae-kwon-do princess.’ It made me want to vomit.”

—–

Every few months, you need to restart your computer

—–

I like playing the ‘How Did I Get That Bruise’ game. I know they’re all from jitsu, but I want to see if I can figure out what move/drill/roll they came from.

—–

To all you sick people: stay away from work and stay away from the mats. Please. Otherwise, the terrorists win!

—–

From jitsu class, “Never underestimate the healing power of punches.”

—–

“I’ve never rolled no gi before.”

“What’s the problem?”

“She’s having self confidence issues.”

“No I’m not, I just saying I haven’t rolled no gi before.”

—–

“So I’m sending complex SQL to someone else yet I’m having you fix my Firefox problem…”

Yup. Welcome to my life. Good at programming does not mean good at troubleshooting. If it did, my job wouldn’t exist.

—–

Someone typed “Memory leek”. All I can picture is a computer leaking leeks…

—–

I think this caffeine is broken.

—–

I met a black belt jitsu instructor while walking through a graveyard.