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September 23rd, 2009
 | 01:05 pm - Over-thinking it all.
I'm trying to remember how to be nice to my brother. It's hard and I don't know if I like this side of myself. Further, I don't know if my bad mood spread and my parents are trying hard to contain theirs (they hide it, one better than the other...and I wonder where I get it). I don't know if it is general grrness or if it has to do with my brother. And if it does have to do with him it just frustrates me all the more. I can't explain it. I can't put my finger on it and I wish I could. I wish I wasn't so bothered by this. But I'm doing better, feeling more in control. I don't feel like I'm going to shatter and my emotions aren't all over the place but I do have to place a lot of my energy toward school now. I can't have my emotions raging around. It takes too much energy.
That being said, I tried to have an Awareness Event to talk about what I learned in San Francisco about Human Trafficking. I invited all my friends, my neighbors and family and only two neighbors showed up, along with my bro and my parents. And my dad was only half there, cleaning the kitchen and such through my presentation (though he later showed that I got through) and my mom fell asleep. She'd been working all day and just zonked out. Overall, it went well though not what I wanted or expected. A lot of people had to work or were out of town and that's okay. That happens.
I think what I'm really bothered by, more than the dismal attendance, was that five or six of the people that I called to see if they would attend never even called me back. Some friends, right? I guess I've realized we've been getting more and more distant, but to not even call back? Now I'm in the inner debate of am I a bad friend, are they bad friends or is it just our time to go our separate ways...which are all painful scenarios. Maybe I'm just overthinking and I just need to get away from the situation. People get busy, right?
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September 17th, 2009
| 02:25 pm
"Never forget justice is what love looks like in public."- Cornel West
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September 16th, 2009
| 06:32 pm
Holding on by a thread. Feeling broken and knowing the cracks are starting to show. I'm full of the cliches that say, I'm just holding on, day by day, but I don't think a smile is fooling my family and friends (when they are around), when my emotions and moods are raging all over. I'm usually in control. I'm in control. I'm always in control. Even when I shatter. I control who sees. Do you even see?
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 | 04:45 pm - Resources for those interested in Modern Day Slavery Re-Abolition.
Resources Books, Films, Etc. Disposable People by Kevin Bales Understanding Global Slavery: A Reader by Kevin Bales Ending Slavery: How we Free Today’s Slaves by Kevin Bales Not For Sale by David Batstone Terrify No More by Gary Haugen A Crime So Monstrous by E. Benjamin Skinner The Road of Lost Innocence by Somaly Mam The War on Human Trafficking: US Policy Assessed by Anthony M DeStefano What is the What? By David Eggers Say You’re One of Them by Uwem Akpan Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortensen The Bottom Billion by Paul Collier The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell Creating a World Without Poverty by Muhammad Yunus Common Wealth by Jeffrey Sachs Nicholas Kristof’s blog (NY Times) kristof.blogs.nytimes.com Human Trafficking-miniseries Trade-film The Silent Revolution: Sankalp and the Quarry Slaves-Documentary by Free the Slaves Freedom and Beyond Bal Vikas Ashram-Documentary by Free the Slaves Dreams Die Hard-Documentary by Free the Slaves Cargo: Innocence Lost-Documentary Not for Sale: the Documentary-documentary through www.notforsalecampaign.org Invisible Children-Documentary Fields of Mudan-Documentary through indiehflix.com Sold-Documentary through www.thesoldproject.org The Day My God Died-Documentary Born into Brothels-Documentary Call and Response-Rockumentary Important Websites The Not For Sale Campaign-www.notforsalecampaign.org Slavery Map- www.slaverymap.org Free To Work- www.free2work.org The Polaris Project- www.polarisproject.org Free the Slaves- www.freetheslaves.org Anti-Slavery International- www.antislavery.org UN.GIFT, the United Nations- www.ungift.org Call and Response- www.callandresponse.org Human Trafficking- www.humantrafficking.org The International Rescue Committee- www.theirc.org/seattle Local organizations Youth Care- www.youthcare.org The Tronie Foundation- www.troniefoundation.org Children of the Night- www.childrenofthenight.org Rapha House- www.freedomforgirls.com Washington Anti-Trafficking Response Network- www.warn-trafficking.org Seattle Against Slavery- seattleagainstslavery.org Asian and Pacific Islander Women & Family Safety Center- www.apiwfsc.org Refugee Women’s Alliance- www.rewa.org
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September 15th, 2009
| 04:19 pm - Oh, brother.
I feel like I'm dancing on the edge of a knife and no matter what I say or do, I'm going to slip, slit and fall...I'm going to be wrong. I'm going to piss someone off and I'm going to hurt someone. I hate knowing that. But what I hate more is that I am trapped again in my own home, and the person I feel so trapped by is my brother. It's not as if he even realizes he's shoving me into my room, shoving me into myself. It's actually that obliviousness that is one of the largest problems. I'm trapped because I cannot speak out. And I'm trapped because whenever I do say something, I break my parents hearts. And I piss my brother off. So what do I do? Keep silent and wait until I shatter? Or say what has to be said, and hurt those I love? I'm tired of being broken inside and smiling outside. Because that's what I do, so my parents do see how much what's happening is just tearing me apart. I'm tired of being silent. I'm tired of letting my brother walk all over me and take advantage of me and my family and break my heart and treat me like shit and I'm tired of him acting like he's so god damn entitled. I don't know if I can hold it in. I don't know how long I can handle living in the same house as him again, after not having to deal with it and knowing what it is like not to have that tension. Not to have that burden. I've had him around my neck my whole life. And I happily and willingly carried him. Because I love him. I do. I love him and I've wanted to protect him. And I have. That's been my role. But I can't be that girl any longer. I can't be that for him any longer, especially when he doesn't even recognize, he doesn't even see all that I've done for him. He acts so entitled, it's like he expects it of me. And I can't do it. Sometimes, I even questions if he loves me. And I think that hurts the worse. That sneaking doubt...
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September 14th, 2009
| 09:25 pm - I think I'm lonely. I admitted it.
For the first time in a long while, I cried. I don't know what brought it on. Perhaps it was the energies of my acupuncture treatment wreaking havoc. Perhaps it was going through all my Academy notes. Perhaps I've been thinking too much about the future and coming to the realization, while listening to resurrection flashback on the radio, that I am getting old. But underlying it all was this lingering understanding I think I've been holding at bay for awhile. I'm a bit lonely. Even with all the wonderful people in my life, I feel quite alone and I can't quite describe why. I can't quite get a touch it. I just feel it deep down; it's this forbidden package I've wrapped at my core with bold writing that says 'do not open til doomsday' and I've just hidden it away and built up smiles and okays and fooled myself, fooled the world into believing I'm more okay, more happy than I really am. That I'm not as lonely as I am as I stand alone, with a world that moves on, swirling faster and faster--I'm just grasping at whisps, grasping at words. I wish you understood. I wish I understood.
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September 6th, 2009
| 10:52 pm
So, I'm getting ready to write my SoPs (statements of purpose). I've narrowed my college search to five: Emory, U of Mich, UCLA, UC Davis and USC. They are either Women Studies or Cultural studies programs. I now have to tackle actually applying. Honestly, I'm a bit scared and intimidated, but moreso I'm intimidated by my schedule this year. I am taking three classes for the first time, plus I am still blogging for teh spectator and now I am the Women Studies student council rep. EEK. Plus, I am doing honors thesis. I'm thinking, oh! It's too much, but there is this huge part of me that says I have to try-I have to. If I don't, how will I know if I can even handle grad school. Oh, did I mention all the stuff I'm planning for my CFS/Fibro awareness and I might be doing an awareness event for Human Trafficking. Its a case of wanting to do more than my body will allow. And the thing is, I know this. But I can't not do it. I'd rather try and fail, then lay in bed wondering what if? Oh, what a mess, a beautiful mess!
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September 4th, 2009
 | 10:28 pm - Because I've failed to find words for a proper post...
- What story did you love reading, as a child?
The Mother Goose stories, anything about cats, and I still own a copy of Beauty and the Beast. - What remains to be your all-time favorite book?
Just One? Yeah, right. Um…the LOTR trilogy, Pride and Prejudice and To Kill a Mockingbird - What book do you usually recommend to people?
Night by Elie Wiesel, Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom - If you were a character in a book, who would you be?
Elizabeth Bennett from Pride and Prejudice - If you could write a book, what would it be about?
Oh, if you only knew! Well, I have a thousand ideas, none which I’ve been able to execute—or explain in an elevator pitch.
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August 26th, 2009
| 12:10 pm - Sad, sad day.
RIP the Lion of the Senate, Teddy Kennedy. You will be truly missed.
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| 12:26 am
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August 25th, 2009
 | 08:49 pm - Storms
Driving home from Indiana was a stressful adventure. The highlight? I almost died. Okay, so that might be a bit hyperbolic, but nonetheless, there was a slight chance that I drove right past a tornado and through its storm system. It was a lovely, exhilariting, terrifying, wonderful experience. I watched the horizon and the dank, deep, gray clouds began to form a dip. I watched for fifteen minutes as it just sat on the horizon, waiting in flux to either form or disappear back into the raging clouds above. I began to joke about watching the little tornado in the clouds--trying to shrug off my nerves and calm my brother before he noticed and freaked on his own. The last thing I need while driving through a storm in Montana, is my brother freaking out. We drove toward the triangle before it disappeared above and then things got--terrifying.
I love storms. I don't know why, but I feel so alive. I love lightening crashes and the rumble of thunder as it basses through my body. We watched as the heavens opened up and shots of lightening surrounded us, left,right, ahead and behind. You couldn't hear the lightening above the pounding of the rain against the metal of the truck and the tires on the road. And I began to laugh, just laugh through nerves and the excitement as hail replaced the thunder, slamming down so hard, we had to yell across the truck to hear and I had to just follow the white line, blind to the road and praying that no one was stranded and we would skim by the tornado to our right and not drive right into it...I couldn't see and thing. I only remember the hail, loud as thundering horses, mingling with my laughter and the utter whiteness of the hail slamming everywhere. It was terrifying and amazing and we came out the other side alive, exhausted, exhilarated and ready to face Yellowstone. I'd seen the beauty of nature at it's fiercest--the next day I had the pleasure, the joy to see nature at it's most serene.
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August 17th, 2009
| 01:35 am - Just Watch.
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August 12th, 2009
| 04:01 pm - Torn in Two.
In Indiana, there's this little thing called racism. It's vile and disgusting and has imbedded itself within my family. I have a great uncle John, and a large part of me wants to disown him from my world. We were having a BBQ on a stormy Forth of July, the whole of the family invited for food and festivities. It was a time to join in memories of a childhood past and create bonds for a future with a family I only get to see every three years. As I was sitting in the livingroom, my mom across the room from me, John, his daughter and niece began talking about a young man John's niece Amanda knew. The next thing I knew, I was subjected to a diatribe of racial epithets and vile words that made me boil in my body--I refuse to rewrite them. Words have power and I won't give creedence to that language, even to expose it for the disgustingness that it is.
I looked over at my mom and she had this pleading look in her eyes, one that said "please don't say anything." And I thought of my grandma, who was so happy, surrounded by her family (especially us, who came from so far away) and I kept silent. I stood up, I walked out of the room and I did not even say goodbye when they left, but when those words were said, by those ignorant people, I didn't speak up against it. It's something I'm not proud of and something I've felt torn over since the day it happened.
Later that evening, I told my grandma I was insulted and upset by what happened and only, only out of respect for her and her house did I keep silent. And I told her next time, I will not. I told her some of my best friends are black, asian, mexican and I will not stand by silently again while someone insults them so thoroughly and ignorantly, all for the sake of keeping the peace. I can't. She was both defensive and understanding of my position. Defensive in the way of saying that is the way John was raised, you can't change minds, yada, yada, yada. But, still a part of me felt like I was betraying my friends in that moment I walked away. My mom was raised out there, with those same thoughts and teachings, and she never raised me with those beliefs--she raised me the opposite. She and my grandma both thanked me for not causing a ruckus--and later, my friend Isis said I did the right thing in not causing a family argument over it--which made me feel a bit better.
But still, I have to reconcile this space in my head and in my heart...where do you draw the line between the value to speak out against injustice and to keep silent for the love of a family member? I don't know if I did the right thing. I still feel torn in two. I still feel like I betrayed a part of myself and I don't know if I'll ever reconcile that--and I don't think I ever should.
Current Music: San Francisco Traffic
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August 8th, 2009
| 12:31 pm - Slavery Map
In San Francisco. I've been here a week, learning the ins and outs on how to combat modern day slavery and human trafficking. It's called the Investigators Academy and by the end of it I will be a certified Investigator for Not For Sale. I'll know how to Investigate, as a concerned citizen both where to find cases of human trafficking as well as high probability locations of human trafficking. It's both heartening to see 25 people from all walks of life from around the world here to tackle this issue, and disheartening to actually be tangling with such a global issue--one that we are so behind on combatting. But we are fighting back and that is the key. Here is one of our tool. Check out www.slaverymap.org and look at the incidents of slavery and human trafficking that are occuring in your own backyard--and those are just the ones we've been able to dig up and plot, the ones we've found in police records and in newspaper articles. Imagine how many more exist that aren't ever caught. How many fly beneath the radar. How many exist, are seen, but never seen for what they truly are. I feel both exhausted and fired up. I need to rest, lest I burn out...
Current Music: The Lotus Eaters--Tennyson
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July 29th, 2009
 | 03:22 pm - Finding the Right Words for Grandparents.
Driving away from my grandparents was both a huge relief off my shoulders and a heavy weight in my heart. My grandparents are both ill and stubborn as hell to boot. A major reason we had to go back to Indiana was to try to get eveything straightened out for them. And to see them, one last time, in case things were as bad as they seemed. They are and they aren't. Driving away, I had a nagging feeling that it may truly be the last. I refused to look back at the house. I just let the tears fall and hope for the best. We did they best we could out there.
My Grandma has COPD and congestive heart failure. She is not on oxygen, though she needs to be and she doesn't take her breathing treatments like she should be. She pushes herself. She doesn't ask for help and refuses it when it isn't offered right. She's plain stubborn, scared and scarred by a past that makes her believe herself inferior. It's hard to break into someone's mind and try to help her to help herself. By the end, we got housecleaning to ensure the house is more sanitary. My papa wanted her to have a new wardrobe, so we took her to Macy's for a shopping spree and she complained and whined the whole time. She did not appreciate Papa's gesture or the fact that we were even there. I should say there are some anxiety and mental issues with my grandma, but at that point, my stress level was at a high.
With all my history with my illnesses, I'm the go to girl for health questions. My Papa, the most laidback guy, couldn't eat well and he was stressed over how to maintain weight while doing radiation. We were constantly harping on him to rest, to relax, to drink ensure and juice. Between the two of them, it was like fighting with stubborn children. That's not to say I didn't love spending time with them. One day, we went down to the local Catfish Festival--just a little fair. It was nothing much, but it was nice to just be out and about with Grandma without her harping. She enjoyed her catfish sandwich, and I enjoyed looking at the little booths and visiting with old family friend, Joyce. I played Frisbee Golf with my Papa and discussed generalities, encouraging him through treatment.
We spent a lot of time out on the deck, sitting on the lawn chairs. I listened to old stories about how life was different when they were young. It all melds together, yet there's a sweetness in remembering the heat, swatting at the bugs as we watched the horizon for the deer. I've been pondering the past few weeks trying to find words to describe my grandparents without complaining. I did love my time visiting. I'm just letting my fingers talk and hope that I can articulate how much I do love them and how terrified I am that I will never see them again.
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July 25th, 2009
 | 02:14 am - For Future Reference.
I don't know how many others are fans of Disney as I am. I'm all over watching Disney on VHS, old school, with the clunky old videocassette boxes. So, last weekend my parents and I purchase a few old VHS movies and monday my mom and I sit down for a relaxing afternoon of Disney magic. Well, I was doing research and listening/watching, but at this moment that is beside the point. What is the point is the film was anything but lovely, relaxing or classic Disney fun. For future reference, The Fox and the Hound is a horribly, horribly depressing movie. Did Disney go through a great depression phase with Bambi, Dumbo and top it off with this one? There were like, two moments that were smile worthy in the whole film, the rest was like being hit, moment after moment with depressing scenarios. My mom said, a third of the way into the film, "If I was a kid I would have cried three times by now." And then 2/3 of the way through the film, there both of us are crying. Now, crying in Disney films is okay. See Lion King. But you fill the film with some happy moments. This film is just horribly depressing all around. Ah!
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July 20th, 2009
| 12:03 am - Miss Ally and her bunnies.
I've debated where to begin, the beginning? Or the interesting stories? Indiana or the Roadtrip there and back? Drama or fun? To be honest, I still don't know where this entry will lead. I have a thousand thoughts and I can't seem to get a hold of any and hang on long enough to write something coherent and up to my standards. Miss Ally, whom I had a chance to meet back in ye olde midwest, has been threatening to kill bunnies when I go to long without posting--and she even posted pictures of said bunnies, spurring me to actually write this rambling mess of an entry. So, how about I tell you about the one LJ friend I did get a chance to meet.
I call her Miss Ally. She's a beautiful, sassy, college student that lives in the midwest, close enough to where I was staying in Indiana that made it easy for us to pick a town and meet up for an afternoon of non-coffee drinks and conversation at Borders (aka my favorite store). She'd just got back from Costa Rica (yes, seriously, awesome right?) with her boyfriend (a westpoint man). It was a long coversation wandering between our penchant for building walls and cementing shells around ourselves to dating to boys to writing.
Further, it was a nice afternoon away from my family. I know that sounds harsh. I love my family, but I can only take so much before I need my "me" time. I'm a naturally independent person and paired with a caregiving soul (odd, I know), I needed a break from watching over my grandparents and Miss Ally gave me a break, allowing me to decompress with someone who understands the whole concept of independence. (Thank you, Miss A). I'm sorry this is such a poor entry. I'll find my muse (probably hiding beneath the couch) and coax her out eventually.
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July 13th, 2009
| 01:51 pm - Home.
I'm finally relaxed after a three and a half week haul of a trip to Indiana and back. I've been in bed for twenty four hours, recouping and finding rejouvenation cuddling with my kitty cats and soft sheets. It was a hectic trip, filled with frustration and family issues but my grandparents are better than expected and my brother is settling down in Ellensburg. I have stories to tell. Boy, do I have stories. My crazy grandma, my uber-frustrating brother, my racist great uncle, my ailing yet happy papa, and the beautiful, beautiful drive. I really wish more people had time to drive vs fly because it is a wonderful experience to see the countryside fly by.
Anyhow, stories to come later.
As I was in rural Indiana, I didn't have time to connect and reconnect with the internet world, but it was a nice break after the quarter ended. I did get to meet with Miss Ally, as she lived closed by where I was staying. I only wish I had to time to stop in and visit, even for an hour or two, with my friends in N. Dakota, Minnesota and Illinios--I am speaking specifically of Nell, Laura and Jerry. I was thinking of you as I drove through your states.
I'm happy to be home. I nearly cried crawling into bed--safe and away from the frustrations of family. I do miss them, out in Indy. They are good people, stuck in their ways, but it was a good trip at the right time and I know that, though it was hard on my body and on my moms as well, I'll rest easier, knowing that we went out there and helped out as much as we could---and that we saw, for ourselves, that things were going to be okay.
I'm off to sleep, falling into cuddles with the kitties. I hope this finds you well.
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June 26th, 2009
| 09:15 am - In Indiana
I'm here in Indiana. Both my grandparents are in ailing health, and we thought it best to come out and check on them, so here we are. I'll be here through the fifth of July, then I head home and back to normal, seventy degree weather. It is way to fucking hot here, just for the record. I'm a born and bred Washingtonian. We break out sandals at sixty and shorts at sixty-five, even though we are still wearing socks and parkas. That's not a joke, that's reality. Anyhow. My internet access is, well, horrendous. Think dialup, only, well, slower. So I won't be around until the mid/end of july, with exception to my email. So send me a message if you need to reach me for some reason or another (coughMissAllycough). Keep writing and I'll keep reading (once I return to normal temperatures).
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June 8th, 2009
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