giunchiglie

JayKay had brought daffodils to the office last week to spread a little cheer. She filled a cute glass jar with these yellow beauties and set them on my desk. It was nice to see her feeling better and making every attempt to be healthier. She had been having some health problems lately and today she shared with me that she finally had a name for part of her ailments. 

Today I sat at my desk translating the forms I had just finished last week. It had taken me a good couple of weeks to create them and really, I don't mind it, but today I felt so sleepy. If anything, I bet this weekend is finally catching up with me. And I'm sure it doesn't help that the only natural light I have coming into my office is from the patio door which faces a tree covered courtyard. It's hot, too. The server farm is located in my space, or I should say that my desk is located in the room with the server farm which emits a ghastly amount of heat. That would be a more accurate depiction of the sauna which I call my office, in the heart of Texas, nearing the end of 1st Summer otherwise known as Spring in other parts of the country. o.O

She had left around 11:00 to meet with the boss's wife and reappeared later in the day in a good mood. It's rare to see JayKay in a good mood after these meetings. As soon as she opened her mouth to tell me about their discussion, she burst into tears and hid her face in her hands. I was caught off guard and waited for her to calm down a bit before asking her what was wrong. It turns out that she wasn't sad at all. They were tears of happiness and what she had to say made me seriously think about certain things.

JayKay and Jon recently got engaged during a vacation to Mexico. From what I know, these two have been on & off again for over a decade. It seems like they've been through it all. For being such an attractive couple, one would wonder why their union hadn't happened sooner. JayKay claimed that Jon was immature while Jon claimed that JayKay was bat shit crazy. Who's right? Well, JayKay had an appointment scheduled with an endocrinologist last week and Jon just so happened to have that particular day off. She had asked him to join her for the appointment and figured that they could get their marriage license and cross that off their To Do list for the wedding. Before leaving the county clerk's office the clerk asked them about the wedding date. They mentioned that they hadn't really thought about a date, but were looking at October 2012. Unbeknownst to them, in Texas, a marriage license is only good for 30 days and cannot be used within the first 72 hours of being issued. The clerk apologized for the mistake and offered to give them a refund.  They looked at each other befuddled and in that moment they decided to keep the license. After leaving the clerk's office, Jon asked JayKay if she wanted to get something to eat and they simultaneously chose BurgerTex. Apparently, this had been their eatery all throughout college and just so happened to be across Airport Blvd. from the county clerk's office. After eating, JayKay went to her doctor's appointment and was told that she had Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) and that if she was thinking about having children, she didn't have the liberty to wait due to her age. She mentioned that was a little tough to hear, but that she was worried about being healthy enough to even contemplate conceiving. She had long ago decided that she didn't want children, but now she admitted that they were definitely in her future, just not this soon. 

Back to today, there she stood talking about how overwhelmed she felt; overwhelmed with happiness. She said it all felt right. From the non-existent wait at a government office, deciding on a wedding date on the fly, BurgerTex across the street, the need to have children within this next year. She was overwhelmed becos she knows that her life will be changing drastically, and soon, but these are all good changes. While she was expressing her happiness and sharing so much and asking questions about my personal life I didn't have the heart to tell her about my decision to get divorced. In fact, I was too overwhelmed with the idea that I hadn't had those moments she was experiencing. 

I was planning to leave Maund before he proposed. Back then I felt ready to get married and waited with each holiday or big event for a proposal. When those events came and went, I was always left disappointed that no proposal had taken place. I told myself that if he did not propose by the end of our lease, that was it. Lo and behold, he proposed 2 months before the lease was up and we took a little over a year to plan for the wedding. I've told our engagement story time and time again, exaggerating here, embellishing there, but it wasn't what I had envisioned. I don't think guys understand that popping the question should be something special. Come to think of it, I didn't even get a question. I saw the ring, which his sister picked out, and got a "So?" I forced my emotions and I remember that feeling. The idea behind Maund's proposal was cute and original, but it's the details that kill me. I've always had these thoughts in the back of my head, but thought it was better not to voice them. Why couldn't I just be grateful and appreciative of his proposal? Becos the details are still nagging at me, just like certain details about the wedding decor. I don't know why these things bother me? Why did he call my Pop to ask for my hand instead of asking him in person? I guess I should be thankful that he even asked, or maybe I'm wrong about that and he only told my folks that he wanted to ask me to get married. Why did he ask his sister to help pick out a ring when I'm not close to her at all? Why not ask Nani or Adrianna, someone who knows my likes/dislikes. Hell, I would have taken Rob's opinion over Angie's! The ring was alright, but there was no real thought put into it. It was an oval shaped cubic zirconia...oval. Oval! At that time I was all about the emerald cut. I would have loved an emerald/radiant/princess/round/asscher cut. I don't need diamonds, why not choose one of my favorite stones? Why not choose something from my favorite color palette? Or maybe a ring I had taken a liking to in passing. I didn't need a $10K ring, I didn't even need a $100 ring, I just wanted...I don't know what I wanted. I guess I wanted too much.

What I realized during that moment with JayKay was that I shouldn't have to embellish a story. I should have appreciated the experience instead of picking it apart. And maybe the reason I was overanalyzing    the proposal was becos I wasn't ready, becos it wasn't right, becos I didn't have those "feelings" that so many women gush over when sharing their engagement stories. Those were my signs and I chose to ignore them. And while part of me is sad to think I may have made a mistake in getting married, would a different string of events have led me to find you? 

correndo

Last night, I went mobile becos I was going to bed. I apologize for running away. You made me think about the unpleasant traits of my personality, my character, my recent actions when that was the last thing I wanted to do before bed. Especially, after we spent the day drooling over that beautiful mixer and making cucumber waters. I didn't want to go to bed upset becos it would just keep me up. That's why I ran away. 

I ended up tossing and turning either way. What you wrote about cheating and crossing that line, I had already done that 5 years ago when I held your hand. I can admit that to myself now. And I guess I worry about reaching for your hand and it not being there one day. What if you don't agree with this approach I've taken and you'll decide to leave? What if one day you think I hesitated and decide that you're not happy? Last night, I was having trouble resting and I turned to him and said, "I'm not happy in this marriage. I want to fulfill my dreams and goals but I don't see you with me. You are a good man and you deserve to be the most important person in somebody's life." He continued snoring and I felt like I was one step closer. 

I think a marathon is a good metaphor. I'm at the home stretch which I hear is the toughest part of the race. I refuse to give up.

desideri e domande

Here I am.  The eve of my 30th birthday and I feel like a failure.

I'm having a 3/4 of a mid-life crisis, which is funny becos nowadays people go through mid mid-life crisis. I guess mine just didn't hit me till now.  

I went to bed last night overthinking, overanalyzing my birthday.  At Thanksgiving, I had made it clear that for my 30th birthday I wanted a dinner with my closest friends and family.  My birthday would also have to...HAVE TO...include mariachis in a charismatically lit backyard serenading the guests and myself.   I even wanted my husband's family there.  Come Christmastime, I had reiterated my desire for a dinner and mariachis.  At Maund's cousin's wedding there were mariachis who went from table to table taking requests and AGAIN I expressed my birthday plan.  

So imagine my surprise when my husband approached me Monday, August 1, 2011, asking what I wanted to do for my birthday.  Three days before my birthday!  I hate to admit it, but I'm pretty sure that a tiny piece of my heart died at that moment.  That's an intense thing to say, right? I know, but I've noticed that this year has caused that to happen in me.  I do my best not to let things get to me, but I feel that I try so hard to please other people that I expect the same from them.  I have such high expectations and when they don't follow through I take it personally.  It hurts.  This experience felt like cramming for a test.  You've had all this time to thoroughly prepare for the SATs, but instead you procrastinate until the week of the exam and say, "Well, we could hav a BBQ and invite some people." What does that do? A BBQ is not a 1400 test score.  A BBQ is the credit you get for bubbling in your name on the score sheet. I plan all of my birthdays.  I plan events for other friends.  I help in the orchestration of other events.  I cook Thanksgiving meals.  I cook Christmas meals.  I plan Easter holidays. I bake birthday cakes and attempt to decorate them with other than frosting to coat them.  I wanted someone to care for me.  I wanted someone to say, "I know you've had possibly the worst year of your life, so far.  From Aug 2010 to now, not only have you experienced change, but you've had to endure many losses.  Neither loss is greater than the other, but each loss equally as painful. Let's celebrate you and start a new year with hope and joy."  I want to have a happy event.  I didn't want a consolation prize.  I wanted a well thought out plan.

I look back and think about what I've written and it sounds selfish.  I'm a Leo.  It's in my nature to want to be the center of attention, but that's not really me.  I have a tendency to want to take care of other people.  I have a tendency to protect others.  So maybe this is the selfish, self-centered side coming out in this entry.

This was the kind of toy I got for my birthday.

I started thinking about my childhood and realized that I never had a birthday party.  You're probably wondering, "how is that possible?" or "c'mon, everyone has parties!" Nope.  I have a picture of my 3rd or 4th birthday.  My mom had bought me a new shirt and had baked a cake.  In the picture, there is a Cabbage Patch Kids Talking Phone next to me and my cake as I'm about to blow out the candles.  I remember that day becos I got chocolate frosting all over my shirt and got upset.

I'm guessing that my other birthdays were like that, but I can't remember any of them.  There was never a planned party at McDonald's, Pizza Hut, or Chuck E. Cheese.  There were never house parties with nifty party favors or cartoon themed plates, cups, napkin.  It wasn't until my 18th birthday that a couple of people took notice of the lack of celebration. Barbara, my hometown bestfriend, knew that my family wasn't as well off as hers, but she never ceased to surprise me.  She never missed a birthday or grand event.  For my 18th birthday, she showed up at my door and presented me with a little gift.  She then kidnapped me and said that becos I was now 'legal' it was my mission to buy a pack of cigarettes and porn.  Those were the rights bestowed upon me as an American and that's what we did.  Later that day, I called over to the Garcia's house to see who wanted to hang out.  Wilbur and Bern were brothers and the sons of my Spanish teacher.  We had gotten close and hung out just about every single day that summer.  We played guitars, they taught me chords, they schooled me on classic rock and singer/songwriters from the 60s and 70s, how to exercise, play sports, run, tried to teach me how to cook.  They were only 4 and 6 years older than I was, but we connected on so many levels and I learned a lot from those two.  Bern picked up and mentioned he had just gotten out of work.  Since we were "new" friends, the brothers didn't know when my birthday was, nor did I know theirs. We chatted for awhile and he asked me what I did that day.  I mentioned that Barbara had taken me to go buy cigarettes and porn and he laughed.  He got quiet for a moment and then asked if it was my birthday.  I acknowledge that today was indeed my 18th and he asked what I was doing to celebrate.  Bern wasn't satisfied with my response and said, "I'd like to take you out. Get dressed! Get ready! We're going to the Riverwalk!"  That was the thing to do, go celebrate in San Anto' which is an hour away.  I had so much fun that night.  I got wined and dined and treated important.  Well, not exactly, maybe soda'd and dined would be a better term.  It was a great night and a nice ending to what would have otherwise been a disastrous birthday.

Since then, I try to plan events for my birthdays. Dinner with friends, drinks, maybe go to a club.  Maybe that's why I was hoping that this one would be different.  That someone would want to take care of me.

I thought about all of this as I was trying to go to sleep.  I started crying silently in the dark and it was a little difficult to stop, but through all of that, I never once woke up my husband.  This got me thinking about other things. The night before I had finished reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and I wondered if I had given up on my own Personal Legend?  When I was younger I had many dreams that I thought I would fulfill.  I never had a time frame, but these were things that I wanted to do.  Now that I'm 3/4 of the way to the halfway mark of my lifespan, it scares me.  What do I have to show for this?  I graduated high school.  I graduated from university.  I lived in Italy. I worked for a non-profit. I'm married.  I have a house and mortgage.  We own 2 cars and will be done paying off a 3rd soon.  We have a cat and 2 dogs.  That seems like a lot, but I want more.  And I felt like the shittiest person in the world becos when I think about my dreams and fantasies, I'm always alone.  I never see my husband in these visions.  I had toyed with the idea of skydiving for our wedding anniversary and found out before booking that Maund is scared of heights.  How did I not know that?  In all the time that I've known him, I just found this out last year.  One dream I have is hiking through the Dolomites and when I close my eyes to envision it, he's not there.  When I was younger, I wanted to be an epidemiologist, but that would require more schooling.  In honing my skills, I realized that I wanted to become a Foreign Services Officer, but to really be considered for a position I would need my masters degree.  And really, that's probably the minimum requirement.  So I definitely need to go back to school and practice my languages more.  Maybe even learn 2 or 3 more.  But even in this dream, I'm by myself. 

Is he holding me back? Or better yet, do I want an excuse so that I don't have to take credit for not fulfilling my Personal Legend?  I would have no one to blame but myself.  Do I still have time to fulfill my Personal Legend or is it too late? I assume I need to do this on my own.  It's a personal journey, but how do I realize my dream when I'm attached to someone else?  And not just someone else, but a complete life which includes hundreds of possessions, a mortgage, and furry friends.  

I would love to find a genie in a lamp.  I could make a couple of changes.

Or better yet, turn back time to one significant moment and change it.  I thought about this last night and I know what that moment would be.  I would go back to the 6th grade and forget about my crush on Colin.  I think that would have changed things dramatically.  It would have saved me a lot of grief growing up in a small town.

I feel awful for having these thoughts.  I feel disgusted for asking these questions.  Honestly, this is the only forum where I can get these thoughts out.  But my biggest fear is that now that I've asked these questions, do I need to answer them or do I continue with life as I know it, ignoring the desires of my heart?  Am I too afraid of answering these questions?

preoccupazioni

#1. “We both know I’m the problem…”

I woke up late this morning.  09:15 is out of character for me.  Maund had taken the dogs for a walk and I stayed behind to be harassed by the cat.  Petrarch was sitting in Maund’s spot in the bed and staring me down in a rather creepy manner.  Breakfast was delicious and I had some errands to run, so all this was done before noon. 

It had been weighing on my mind all day.  The closer it got, the more and more anxious I turned. No use in postponing things, I decided to get ready for my appointment.  The shower helped, but there was still this haze that was suffocating.  It felt like someone was sitting on my chest.  My heart was beating fast and I had a feeling of impending doom.  I turned on my radio and started off where I had stopped yesterday.  Tejano was the continued theme for today and was somewhat comforting.  While doing laundry yesterday I had such an urge to listen to some accordion and think back to times which were happier.

“How long is this gonna take?” asked my husband. 

“Listen, if you don’t wanna go, then don’t!”

“Just give me the $20 copay and I’ll save you some time.  He’s just gonna tell us to have sex.  I told you, I heard from the kids at school that’s how you get pregnant.”

We have this ongoing joke that bumping tummies will get us pregnant.  When we found out we were pregnant awhile back he proclaimed, “I knew it wasn’t just bumping!”

I chuckled for a moment, but the reality was I was still scared.  Why wasn’t he taking this seriously? He asked why I was nervous and I said I didn’t know why.  But after pressing for more answers, I blurted out,

#2.  “You know you can leave me and get someone pregnant tomorrow! I can’t.”

These are things that I had thought and been afraid to say out loud.  I felt a little better after getting that out in the open, but he didn’t respond.

Once at the doctor’s office, there was some paperwork, some waiting in the lobby, and then waiting in a smaller room.  I was still nervous, but knew that I would be put out of my misery in a moment.  While we were waiting, Maund pulls out his phone and Facebook and says, “I’m gonna ‘check-in’.” I shot him this dirty look and he asks, “Whaaaaaaat? You do it to me all the time?”  I glared at him and he circled his finger around the “Places” link on Facebook.  I thought I was going to cry.

#3.  “It’s embarrassing…”

Why you ask?  Becos it is.  At my age and my ethnicity, I should have 5 kids by now!  I tried my hardest to be pregnancy-free up until 2 years ago and now I’m screwing shit up!  How did I royally screw this up?  What’s wrong with my uterus? Is it not nice and fluffy and inviting? 

My ideal situation for conceiving involved: graduating high school, graduating university, owning a house, owning a car, a dog, a cat, a husband.  This is my ideal breeding ground; I’m ready! I prided myself on not being another teen statistic.  I had my fun and got away scot-free.  Or are there actually some consequences I wasn’t aware of?  I mean my eggs aren’t getting any younger.  After 35, the risk of fetal anomalies increases.  Should I have gotten pregnant 10 years ago?

Who am I kidding? I wasn’t ready 10 years ago, but then again which 20 year-old is? At that point you’re just forced into parenthood.  Most simply yield to the inevitable, and I’m thankful for never having to make such a decision.

After talking to Dr. K, things were more light-hearted.  I didn’t feel so weighed down and overall I was more at ease becos we now had a plan.  He was very optimistic about our situation, which made me feel better.  I thought about my interaction with patients and how I have a tendency to give all the facts and make them aware that success is high, “…but there’s always that risk.”  Have I been dashing hopes and dreams for other women? That didn’t happen here.  Dr. K was confident and I felt good.  I’ve decided to offer the same from now on.

discriminazione di età

APRIL 2, 2008 entry taken from my previous blog

I look young; I know it. It’s never really bothered me. In fact, when I first started working at Brookside, the UPS man came up to the check-in window with a package, looked at me and said in an authoritative voice, "I’m gonna need someone 18 or older to sign for this." My smile turned into a pout and I said, "I’m 23." He said, "oh."

Like I said, it’s never truly bothered me becos it doesn’t happen often that people will question my education, experience, or other credentials. But when it does occur, it’s enough to ruin the whole day. 

I’m not the kind of person to linger on unpleasantries too long; however, my recent run in with an ageist left me a little upset.

One of my darling coworkers decided to schedule an "options counseling" and guess who got stuck with Little Mary Sunshine? Yours truly.

I had the pleasure of speaking with her and her spouse and her main concern was how to deal with feelings of sadness or depression. I told her that if she needed long-term help, I could provide her with resources. She paused and said, "If I needed phone numbers for psychiatrists or other counselors, I can do that on my own. I’m asking you what should I do." And she was rather rude about this. I toughened up and flat out said, "You came in here to find out what your options are, I WILL NOT make your decision for you."

The lady and her husband began to ask me questions about procedures and I answered them with ease. It wasn’t anything that couldn’t be answered over the phone. The lady was concerned about risks with her procedure and I addressed them and even informed her about additional risks regarding obstetrical history. She seemed kind of closed off, but was still asking good questions. Towards the end our discussion, I asked the lady if she was interested in an examination/scan by one of the nurses and the lady decided she would prefer it.

PERFECT! Get outta my face, Get Outta My Face, GET OUTTA MY FACE!

As I approached the front desk, I said, "I don’t ever want to speak to that lady again!" Something just didn’t sit right.

After lunch, Ann approached me and asked how I was doing. I told her I was fine up until the point that I had to talk to that lady. She then told me that as the patient was leaving she said, "I feel sooooo much better after having talked to you." Now, becos I love to joke about race, you would assume that I would be rash to say it was fueled by the fact that Ann is white and well, I am not. But that wasn’t even the case, Ann is older and has more "life experience" than I do; however, I gave that lady all the correct answers. Ann even confirmed that during her "session" with this nut job, the lady would ask a question, Ann would answer it, and the lady’s husband would say, "That’s what the counselor told you. You already asked that question." Ann said that this happened for every question the lady asked.

That upset me simply becos I’m a confident, educated, professional, young woman who was completely discriminated against becos I’m not 40/50-years-old. I understand that with age comes wisdom, but this lady was 40-years-old and was still acting like a child. I wanted to take her face in my hands and shake some sense into her. I would have offered for another counselor to speak with her, but the other gals are even younger than I am. I wanted to scream at her, "Guess What! Other 40/50-year-old women don’t want to deal with your shit! They don’t want to talk to you about your vagina issues! They have better things to do!" 

After the initial frustration, I tried to joke about it. But it just got to me, ya know? I’ve come across plenty of ageist, but this one just stuck with me. I guess most other times I have no validation from other observers; however, this time I had proof and two parties who could account for the discrimination. 

Ugh, I guess I just had to get this out. 

* the term "lady" is used very loosely in my article.