Closed Doors

(It's a long one... just to warn you)

Sometimes it jumps up and smacks you in the face that you are different from the people around you.

Mostly, I don’t consciously think about those differences. I skate through life with the assumption that people who look like me are treated like I am, because I’m self-centered like that. It’s sort of like forgetting that other people still exist when you aren’t with them, assuming a long-lost friend is the same person they were when you knew them, because, they can’t change if you aren’t there to see it. Right?

But once in a while, it becomes blaringly obvious that we are not a homogenous society. And much as the US has become a “melting pot” there are still those people who are not as accepting as others and maybe it’s an unconscious reaction to a perceived difference, based on skin color or gender, or a prejudicial assumption about a person, but we people of color are treated differently than our white counterparts.

It’s a good sign to me that white people assume we are treated the same, and that people of color receive the same benefits as they do, but it’s also disturbing that they are oblivious to the discrimination that we deal with on a frequent basis. I think it’s positive because it shows that they themselves don’t believe that we deserve less, but it also creates a divide between us because there is a huge part of me, a major influence on my past and present, that they can’t understand.

And really, this county is more accepting of racial differences than other places that I have lived, but I get the feeling that a lot of it, especially with older generations, is a front. They are courteous when you are a customer in their store and they know you’re going to be putting your money in their pockets. They are polite when you are in a position of authority to help them. But many are also blatantly racist when they make an assumption about your heritage, your economic situation, your marital status, or whatever. Sometimes they make racist remarks about a culture they assume you are not connected to. Sometimes they treat you with disdain because they assume you don’t deserve their respect.

This all came about during a conversation this morning in which a blonde-haired, blue-eyed coworker of mine looked perplexed when I pointed out that when I was pregnant, people in our building assumed that I was here to apply for some type of welfare benefit. I was trying to make the point that based strictly on appearances when we were pregnant at the same time, employees were more likely to hold the door open and let her in before the building was officially open, than they were to do the same for me.

She sort of blew me off like I was being dramatic, not in a rude way, but more like she obviously didn’t take my comment seriously. And I was sort of stunned, because it’s something I dealt with often when I was pregnant, trying to walk into the locked building after someone else, and they would go so far as to pull the door shut after them when they saw me coming and saw I was close enough to get inside before it closed and locked behind them. I just don’t see that happening to her. And I know she has faced her own battles for other reasons, but I can’t hide who I am. I am judged on sight and I can’t do a damn thing about it. She is judged on sight too, but unless she was with her partner, I doubt most people would pick her out to discriminate against.

I’m not trying to imply that my struggles are worse than hers. In fact, I think she has probably had to fight a lot longer, and a lot harder than I have against our respective prejudicial magnets. I’m just saying that anyone who is prejudiced against Black people, Latinas, young women, young mixed women in the workplace, pregnant people of color, Black people who are too light-skinned, Black people who marry out of their race, people of color who are doing well for themselves… any combination of the above and many more bullshit reasons, I get it. I’m not even Latina and people are racist against me simply because they think I am. I’m treated like shit by White people for having darker skin than them, and Black people for having lighter skin. I get shit from Black men and Latinas for marrying my husband. I have people tell me that I think I’m too good for them, since I’m not hooking them up with extra Food Stamps. I have older people tell me that I’m too young and naïve to understand what they are going through. I get shit from bosses for talking too much, or not talking enough. I get shit from coworkers for doing too much work….

And I know we all have out struggles, I just get so frustrated sometimes that I can’t escape mine. I can’t walk down the street and have people think, “Oh, she looks like a nice person,” because the minute they see me I’m slapped with hundreds of labels, and people are reacting to their perceptions of me without my doing a damn thing. Not everyone has that curse.

But sometimes it’s a blessing, because I can look at another person like me, and I get it. There are a lot of prejudices I feel sympathetic towards, but there is no empathy because I’m never experienced it. But there are so many that I’ve dealt with, and learned from, and I appreciate that knowledge because if I was even slightly different, I might not know what I now do.

So that’s all. No hard feelings, just processing. And I am a little sad because I will never meet anyone who has dealt with what I’ve gone through. I ignore our differences sometimes with the hope that I’ll feel totally understood one day, but I think the real issue is that I need to learn to let go of that need to feel understood. There are so many fragmented parts of me that I haven’t wholly integrated yet. It’s my life lesson, maybe, to see myself as a whole person, so then I can really feel that way.

Hating Is Easy

It took me a lot of years to get over the fact that some people will never like me. And it doesn't bother me so much except...

1) I always thought I had some miracle Power of Persuasion, and that by just being me, people would agree with what I said, and do what I suggested. Hence, the degree in Psychology. But the older I get, the more clear it has become that people only hear what they want to hear. And even if you have air-tight logic, your words will always be spun to suit their course of action, or be used as a basis for going against sound advice.

This might seem out of left field, but I have been so naive about people, it hurts me to see the time and energy I have wasted on trying to be friends with bad people, or trying to maintain my good name with people who don't give two shits about me. All because I assummed that people would see past their initial perceptions of me and see that I am a genuinely good person, albeit one with a wicked temper, but my intentions are good. And to me that's what really matters.

So then the other thing is that 2) I have this burning desire to be understood. And it's something I've blogged about before. I don't know where it comes from, and I don't know how to let go, but I can't understand when people can't see my point of view (see #1 above) and so I keep pushing, and pushing for comprehension, and it just doesn't seem to be flowing lately. I don't care if we disagree, as long as you can honestly say you understand my view and still hold your own. But I'm noticing that most people can't say that. Most people listen in order to respond, not to understand.

And that irks me. Maybe as a Gemini I am more apt to see different viewpoints at once, be able to hold them, mull them over, and then make a desicion on how I feel about an issue after after absorbing the information presented to me. But I don't see that in many poeple. And maybe that's why I feel more fragile than others, because I don't have hard and true set beliefs about many things. And maybe its this fragility that makes me so upset when people don't like me.

Wait. I don't mean that, because if someone doesn't like me, that's fine. As long as it's for a good reason. The thing I can't stand more than anything else right now is when people dislike me for BS reasons. Like they heard something from someone else which isn't exactly true, but they take it as gospel. Or I remind them of something terrible about themselves, or some evil person they know, and the time is never taken to get to know me as a person. Or we have a disagreement and you're being too pig-headed to listen to my side of the arguement, and now you're pissed off because I want you to understand me, and you have no desire. So now you avoid me.

And in that last situation, I can see that maybe it's annoying to have someone try to explain an opinion that you don't agree with, but isn't that sort of the whole point in a disagreement? To understand what the other person is saying, and then decide whether or not to agree? But maybe that's Idiot's Logic. Maybe in your mind, in so many people's minds, the purpose of an arguement is to convince the other person to agree with you, in which case, yes, you're right. I am annoying. But I also don't want to go through life trying to convince people to see my way, instead of trying to understand their ideas.

It must be lonely to be you.

But really, my point today is that if you aren't going to be my friend, push me away for a good reason, not a narcissistic one. Hate me because 10 years ago I stole your boyfriend, not because you're ashamed of your actions, or I was honest with you and damaged your ego. Don't hold my physical appearance against me until we've spoken. If you still don't like me after a conversation, fine. But don't waste your time hating someone you don't know, for a reason that has nothing to do with you. It's not fair for either of us.

Peer-Pressure Boyfriends

I've seen two ex-boyfriends in the past 48 hours. I know this county is small, but is there something He is trying to tell me?

Both of these guys were peer-pressure boyfriends, you know that guy (or girl) you date because they are your best friend's cousin or your parent's friend's nephew? The person you are not really into, but you give it a try because if they have so many good things to say about them, maybe they really are a diamond in the rough.

There was absolutely no hanky panky with these two. Call me shallow, but I just could not get past not being physically attracted to them. And maybe I'm unlucky, but I've never been so WOWed by someone's personality that I didn't care what they looked like. Well, maybe once, but only once.

Don't get me wrong, I have crushed on guys who were less-than-stunning, but normally they were so intimidated by me that we never were more than friends. And sadly, I've spent more time with gorgeous a-holes than the aforementioned sweet boys, but I've got a serious sweet spot for a pretty face and a hard body.

But I digress....

Both of these guys were somehow related to my two best friends at the time. Neither was what I would normally go for, and yes, they were sweet, but I remember both being very needy (serious turn-off to me) and more interested in trying to get in my pants than trying to get to know me (also turn-off). Neither lasted long, and neither was a real "boyfriend" as I don't remember any inclination on my part to not look for something better while I was seeing them. What an a-hole I am.

The sad thing is that I think they may have really liked me. I was so cruel back then, on the prowl for my perfect man and totally discounting anyone who wasn't exactly what I thought I wanted. And it was for a reason, I was looking for P, but I didn't know that, and I was too self-centered to consider their feelings at the time. It was all me, all the time. And it didn't help that they seemed to agree, they were both aware (I think) of me checking out other guys, and I may have been a bit of a flirt and really didn't give a hot damn about trying to conceal my intentions towards other men when they were around. Even after I basically told each that I was bored with them, we still hung out as friends, but I would still strut around like a horndog on a stick looking for my next conquest.

So anyway. No point really, just trying to figure out what the karmic mesage is in seeing these two this week. Any ideas?

*smile*

Before I was pregnant, and money-conscious, and watching what I ate to ensure I had a strong, healthy child (which has been mostly true, save the past week or so) I used to eat at my favorite "fast-food" Thai place at Northgate fairly frequently.

Which for me means only once a month or so.

There is a young guy who has worked there for a few years who I often saw, and would say hi to, and when I was pregnant he would always ask how I was doing and tell me that I looked so happy. And of course, while I was pregnant it was nice to hear, considering my ankles were twice as big as they were supposed to be (but I'm sure he couldn't see that) and even when I was miserable from having to pee every half-hour (of course, he didn't know that either) it always made me smile how sweet he was to an angry, sweaty, hungry County drone.

Before today, I hadn't been back there in probably 8 or 9 months, since last summer most likely. But T-Boog was sick today, and I nursed her at home then put her right to sleep after giving her some Tylenol, fed the dogs and realized I had nothing to eat. I figured I may as well buy myself something since it was one of the few times I could go where I wanted without worrying about anyone else.

So I headed over to Jhan Thong (?) ordered my customary noodle salad, pad thai and ginger chicken and went to the register to pay. Smiled at the guy, because I recognized him, and almost dropped my fork when he asked how I was doing, how my daughter was, and how old she is now since he hadn't seen me in so long.

I remember working in customer service and seeing so many people a day that their faces became a blur to me. I remember people stopping me on the street (which actually still happens at the new gig) asking how I was and I couldn't for the life of me remember who they were.

So to be remembered... it sounds lame, but it made my day. After feeling so transparent yesterday, it was just nice to have someone ask about me, and my kid. It was just nice to know that even when I'm not there, someone remembers that I still exist. And there's no flirty-nothing going on, it's not like that, though the guy is cute (don't tell P I said that!) but I guess because I've been going there so long, from back in the day when I worked at Mervyns, it's just one of those people that you say hi to, not even on an aquaintance level, because I have no idea what his name is.

*sigh*

How to explain? Maybe I can't, or maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I should just appreciate it for the simple, friendly gesture it was, appreciate the smile it left on my face and go on with my day. I guess I'm just realizing again how you get what you need when you need it. It's so easy to forget sometimes.

Continuing the Tradition

When we were dead broke, back in the day, Mom, Goldie (my brother) and I used to go to this sushi place off Kerner called Yu Shang for our birthdays. There is a Vietnamese guy there (shhhh...don't tell) named Henry who has an awesome creation called the Henry Roll that we order every time we step foot in the place. The place always reminds me of that TV show about the bar where everyone knows everyone, because regulars get a chorus of shouts when they walk in to welcome them.

Last night Mom and I had planned to do a small celebration for T-Boog's birthday, and also to celebrate that I made it through labor as well. We had plans of vegan cake and a hike, but since T-Boog is sick I didn't think she needed to load up on sugar or be out too late so last minute we decided to head over to Yu Shang. I was bummed at first to not be celebrating her first birthday with her father, but both he and the Nanny had classes last night, so instead of being bitter as I would have a year ago, I just made do with what I had.

Goldie met us there, and I realized I hadn't has sushi for almost two years, since before I was pregnant. We sat Boogie in a high chair at the sushi bar, ordered up some tea, cucumber salad and hot and sour soup. We took turns feeding T-Boog all of them, and she loved it, though I think the soup was a bit spicy for her. She loved the seaweed off the top of the cucumber salad, and the edamame, and I pulled some smoked salmon off the Henry roll and gave that to her as well.

And, as tradition holds, once we finished they brought out a dessert for T-Boog with a candle and the entire restaurant, the sushi chefs, waiters, host and patrons all sang Happy Birthday to her. I was standing up holding her when they started, and the whole time we were singing she looked around at all the strangers yelling to her with this shocked look on her face. It was classic. Then we blew out the candle, and dug into the dessert, which was mango ice cream with a dough on the outside. She was digging the ice cream, had it smeared all over her face, and I'm glad she got a special desert on her special day.

***

I am bringing her to Kaiser today though. I'm at home blogging this time. She's had a temperature about 99.2 the past two days, and this morning it was up to 100.3 so I'm taking her in to see what we can do to help her eat, sleep, and breathe. She's been kind of panting all day which worries me, but I'm hoping it's just because her nose it stuffed up. I hate to say this out loud, but one part I do like when she's sick is she turns into a little Snuggle Bunny. We were in bed this morning, and she buried her face in my neck, flopped her burning hot body across my chest, and passed out. And since she's congested, she has this adorable little baby (oops, toddler, now?) snore, and her hair is all matted from sweating last night, her little red nose and her fingers gripping a clump of my hair. I brought her back to her crib since the dogs were jumping on the bed, and really, I needed to blog (heh), and I was worried if I slept with her she might get too hot. At least in her crib she gets the air flow, not like in my bed when we snuggle under the covers.

But I'll keep ya'll posted if this is more than a cold.

Happily Ever After

When P and I were married almost 5 years ago, a lot of thought went into not having a big wedding. Topping our list were the very real issues of 1) we didn't want to be paying off a wedding for the next 10 years, and 2) most of the members of our families were spread out across four countries and three continents.

Our plan after we were engaged was to have two small ceremonies, one in North America for my family and one in South American to include his. Then, a couple days before Spring Break my freshman year of college, P's nephew was born with a spinal defect that was going to require multiple surgeries not only to fix, but to save his life. We made a hasty decision to scrap our wedding and send the money we would have spent down to his sister to help pay for the surgeries.

I flew back home on Friday night, and we discussed Saturday morning over breakfast at Marvin's what to do. Since we knew a wedding ceremony was so much less important than the situation his sister was facing, we decided to schedule an appointment to get married at the Justice of the Peace. The next Friday. We spent time in the evenings that week after work picking out another wedding ring for me, my wedding dress and making reservations for our wedding night. I got my nails done, and Friday afternoon we met at the Civic Center with my mom and uncle (my brother was away in the Navy) and P's aunt.

The ceremony was short and sweet. It was cold outside, so P held me close and sheltered me from the wind as we said our vows. I was so happy I couldn't stop smiling during mine. He was so nervous he skipped over quite a few words while reciting his. We took some beautiful pictures with the hills of Marin county in the background, and afterwards went over to Embassy Suites and had champage and appetizers. P and I had our wedding night dinner in Tiburon, and spent our first night as husband and wife at Tiburon Lodge. The next day our families and many of our closest friends came to my mom's apartment for a small reception. La Tia decorated our wedding cake with fresh roses, and my mom prepared food and drinks for us. We laughed, drank, reminisced, opened presents, and couldn't have been happier with our decision. I will always look back at that day with the people we were closest to celebrating our happy day as one of the sweetest in my life.

The point of this story ... I'm not really sure. I went to my first bridal fair this weekend with a friend, and I guess I was a little shocked at how big of a deal weddings are. I don't think it's frivolous, exactly. I just don't understand why people would spend $25 or $50 thousand dollars on one day. I enjoy weddings, but I guess I'm not one of those people who needs a big production to fabricate one of the better memories of my life.

Maybe it's because I didn't ever really think I would have a big wedding. I never got myself worked up imagining all the things I could have when I was younger, and as I got older and life got more real, I knew it wasn't in the cards. Or maybe it was because I can think of so many other things I would do with that much money. I don't know. I feel so disconnected from all the planning, because I just don't get it. I mean, I can logically see what needs to be done, what needs to be booked, and planned, and I'm excited to take part in the production, but when it's all said and done, I don't know if I will ever understand the fantasy.

I've learned the hard way what goes into maintaining a marriage. Maybe things would have been easier if we had had a big production, so when times got rough we could look back and smile at that one happy day. But then maybe we wouldn't have been able to buy the house if we were still in debt from it. Who knows what could have happened if it were done differently? And who knows, maybe in another 5 years we'll decide to have another ceremony to renew our vows with our families present.

Something small and intimate. As little stress as possible.

Blast from the Past

So. I talked to my mom yesterday and she mentioned that she had seen one of my ex's at Ross or some store that day.

I should stop and mention that he wasn't exactly just an ex. He was my first, and my first real boyfriend, and a really good guy, and evidently he and my mom had had a conversation about marriage way back then. And she introduced him to her own boyfriend as "The one Aletta was supposed to marry."

Whoa.

But I haven't seen him since the day before I was married. We had lunch. He didn't say much. And I think a part of me was waiting for him to tell me that I was making a mistake, and that he'd take care of me, and I didn't have to marry P. But all he said was "Congratulations. As long as you're happy with him." And I have to love him for not trying to stop what he thought would make me happy.

And that's how we left things.

But to hear that he's still around, and frankly I'm surprised I haven't seen him in 5 years as we live in the same town... it just brings up such sweet memories. It's weird how that first person you love is always special, no matter the circumstances between you, and he's always been that yardstick that I measured men to, and nobody really was the same, but P was so close and time passes so quickly.

.....

In related news, I saw a girl from high school today. She was said ex's best friend's girlfriend. Got that?

She has three beautiful boys, all under 3 years old, and she looks fucking fabulous.

I'm jealous.

6 months and I haven't lost my baby weight yet. Her youngest is 4 months old, and she looks incredible, all chipper and smiles... I'm really happy for her. And she lives right down the street from me, so I'm looking forward to hanging out with her again.