Crossroads

Ciao!

Bueonasera! Mio italiano e molte bene! hahaha, mentirò. Il colazione e banana. Penso. Io ho la gonna.

Alas, that is far as I can get today. It's sporadic and poor, it makes no sense and has no theme to it at all. But I suppose my Italian is better than before. I have such issues speaking it and I wish I had someone to practice with. I think someone to speak to me in the language would help immensely, but no one around speaks it. And lessons are way too expensive for this chick. So Duolingo it is. But the real reason I decided to write today was about my new and improved decision to remain single. Yes. This little lady right here has decided that she needs lots of lady time, and that means no romance. As much as it kills me to ignore this desire and longing for a relationship, I know to really treat myself right, I need to do this. I need to stop searching for something I'm just not ready for. I need to come to terms with myself, and only myself, as a person and individual outside of a relationship. It sucks.
I don't want to be lonely, but I know that I'm not. I am surrounded by amazing family members and friends and others who really do care about me. My first priority is to myself and only myself. Then friends and family. Somewhere way down the line is romance. I am too busy for one right.
So that means grad school and learning Italian and dancing (amo ballare). It means dinners with my friends and having my mother and step-dad spend Thanksgiving with me. It means volunteering more and enjoying the sunshine. It means date-nights with just me, going to the movies or seeing a show. It means reading more books and writing more poetry. It means a lot of things that I want to do and no one to tell me differently. I won't make time for anyone that I don't want or share my room with anyone but myself. I can focus solely on this crazy chick behind the keyboard (for those of you who haven't guessed yet, that's me).
I don't want a rebound because I'm not going to get better by distracting myself with another human being, with more complicated emotions. Nope. I'm going to get better by treating myself right, but moving on with my own pace and own rhythm. I shake it off (Thanks T-Swift). I still think about my ex - a lot. I still miss him. So, why ignore those feelings? I'm going to feel what I need to feel, and I'm going to start doing right by me. It hurts that he's with someone new. But... rebounds are so messy. Because you what that teaches me? It teaches me that it is only through other romantic relationships can I feel better, feel whole. Well, the relationship I have with myself is going to get me better. I want to reach wholeness by coming whole myself. I want to have to a tumultuous love affair with me. I'm going to pamper myself and learn new things.
And well, dico italiano! I am going to love myself again.
So for the next two years, arrivedeci ragazzi e ragazze! Well, I'm not going to purposefully ignore new friends, but I want time outside of a relationship, out of romance. I just want time with myself. I want to find who I am now, as a twenty-something who wants to fulfill dreams and see the world. This is what I want, this is my dream now. I never thought I could find a new one. I never thought I would want something as much I once wanted my past relationship to work out. But I have, I have found something immensely better. And this is something I have control over, this is a dream, a goal that I can work for, obtain, and earn.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I am going to graduate school in Italy, and it is going to be the start of a new chapter of my life.
Boom. Wish me luck on this crazy, whirlwind of a life I lead. I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Dear Nerd Guys: This is my PSA

Dear fake nerd guys,

I know you've become a bit of a myth, slinking back into your holes where you shun the light of day and the horde of us angry, real nerd girls who are tired of your crap. Because I am tired of it. You don't lurk around comic stores as much (for which I am grateful). But I know you exist. I deal with your stupidity on a regular basis.
First: do not come into my place of work and attempt to tell me how to do a better job. I will ignore you. I may smile politely because it is retail and I am paid to be polite but that is about as much pleasantry you will receive from me. I will not take your suggestions, even if you have 'been in this business for a while'. I don't care. Really. At all. Please keep your policies to yourself. I mean, does it really look like I'm interested in your faux hawk? Dyed some strange orange? With your creepy trench coat? Because trust me, I am not interested. Not one bit.
Second: Do not mention superheroes and comics to illicit a reaction because I mentioned something to my co-worker. You know who was part of that conversation? Not you. Do not lean across the counter top I am using to keep you at bay. Do not tell me how 'you would love to be a home writing about superheroes' and that 'you love Batman'. Do you know who loves Batman?' every-effin'-one. You know who doesn't like Batman? Me. Don't assume my knowledge of comics and heroes begins and ends with him. I prefer Wonder Woman, because you know, I want someone with edge and a story that doesn't involve dead parents. Yes, I went there. But you don't know that because you are a jerk and make assumptions about me and my hobbies.
Third: Here is what gets me. I answered you "oh that's cool. I'm a comic fan too'. And in what strange, alternative reality does "really, you don't really look like someone who would like comics. I mean comics are pretty nerdy thing to like" SOUND LIKE A GOOD REPLY TO YOU? I mean, for real, no really what thought process lead to that conclusion? Did you even regret the words as they came out of your mouth? I know I gave you a polite smile when every thought was an expletive directed at you like a silent hex. Is this your manner of flirting? Here, I'm sure there is a flirting for dummies somewhere around. Or maybe you need a how-to-treat-women-like-human-beings for dummies. Sheesh. So then, brilliant boy you are, you continue. You ask me who I like (I know this ploy, you expect someone generic or boy-toyish hero so you can school me, I've come across this out dated technique before, little do you know). I tell you Captain Marvel. Here, here is your downfall.
Fourth: If you wish to teach me a lesson about comics, know your comics asshole. Captain Marvel is a female Marvel comic hero. And for the record, although you disagree, lady heroes are just as real and strong as their male counterparts. Captain Marvel in the DC universe (and don't give me that look at about DC, only real comic nerds can complain about DC), he is now Shazam. Also Billy Batson. Once Captain Marvel but was constantly confused with the Marvel character, Captain Marvel. Who is now tall, blonde, and awesome. She was once Ms. Marvel, but was given an upgraded name to better suit just how awesome she is. Ms. Marvel is now a Muslim-American, who Wolverine quite admires (spoilers). But you would have known this, if you were actually any sort of a comic fan and the proclaimed Marvel enthusiast. Then do not blurt out some absurd comment about Thor not really being Thor because is never actually a guy is was a frog and now a woman. And women can't be Thor. And he was that doctor guy for a while. And then he was dead. What exactly are you saying? I don't know. I calmly reply that you are confused, that Thor is still Thor, the character is about the actions not the gender.
Sensing your downfall at the hands of this nerd girl, you tell me that female superheroes don't really count, because if they did, there would be a movie about them. Well, gee, you got me there. I know it took me a few moments to consolidate my thoughts into an answer, because I really wanted you to understand something. There are superhero movies because they come a comic. Movies don't validate the comic. Hell if that was the case, Catwoman would have disappeared after that disastrous early 2000s film. Anyway, in your tiny little brain, that would make sense, wouldn't it? Women can only be validated through big budgeted films and objectification through visual media. So I told you that comics were more than the movies made, and female superheroes in the Marvel U had some of the top selling stories. Thankfully, you stopped talking after that.
But you managed to put me in a foul mood. Because I'm so exhausted of having to prove myself as a nerd when I don't actually want to prove myself to anyone. I can't mention a nerdy thing without it being thrown back into my face.
I've been told when I am angry and become sarcastic I lose my point. Well you know what, you don't deserve my niceness. You don't deserve any sort of kindness for automatically assuming me to be ignorant and stupid. So guess what? You get the same treatment. So nerd guys who think its okay to judge a woman because she is a woman and has the audacity to look, feel, think beyond the skimpy outfits poised for you on the covers of a comic book, you need to revaluate the way you think are. I am more than an outfit, I am more than some obsession for you, I am here in this world too and enjoy certain things and want to enjoy them without having to validate my enjoyment of it as real.
This was a very long, sarcastic rant but this is a part of my life constantly put on the defense, constantly interrogated by people I don't even know, that need to attack this part of me for no other reason than I am a woman. Comics are not a domain just for straight men. It's a genre that should be open to all given its history as a recluse for outcasts. So, what's the deal? We nerd girls aren't going away and we certainly won't remain nice to you bullies who badger us.
I will not stop pressing this issue until I can walk, talk, think, laugh comics without the fear I will be badgered by some random nerd stranger. We should bond over this, not attack each other. Captain Marvel wouldn't stand for this type of misogyny, so neither will I. Through the use of some anger and a load of sarcasm (my only defense against this type of thing), I will valiantly remain on the vanguard of this issue, defending the rights of comic loving ladies everywhere.

Dance, Dance Revolution

Last night, I tried something completely new for me, but an activity I've been wanting to try for a long time. Dance. Ballroom dance to be exact. It was my first dance class ever, and even though I was extremely nervous, I really enjoyed myself. Yes, I was one of the youngest students in the class, but it was a good reprieve. The lights and the music and the soft atmosphere was just a wonderful medicine for my addled brain. (addled is the word of the week).
My instructor was very welcoming and friendly, he never scolded and took my intense nerves in turn with him. The instructor was my partner now. He had us switch, and the other partners I had were so reassuring and did their best to make me feel relieved and calm. I think with more practice it'll be okay. I just really liked it. I always love to dance. It's usually just the chicken head bob as I do dishes or clean my apartment. I have very little rhythm.
My lovely instructor (Fred from Seacoast Ballroom) told me I think too much and as the follower, I didn't need to. I just needed to feel the movement, the moment, and follow. He said I needed to calm my tense shoulders and let the stress free itself from my body. He felt the tension in my whole body. He told me not to worry, that for the next forty-five minutes I didn't need to worry about the steps, the music, the movements, the beat. Just follow where his arms directed me. And that was the best thing I ever heard in my life. Sure, it was easier said than done, but for forty-five minutes, I could break from the rigid mold I put myself in so constantly. I didn't need to lead, I didn't to micro-manage or even manage. I just had to move my feet and stop tensing my legs. That was it. Maybe that's why dance has attracted me so much. Or maybe I'm just secretly turning into my mother (which isn't a bad thing, because my mother is damn fine). Anyway, back on track here. Just to have a period each week when I can drop my responsibilities, to just push the worries that inundate me to the back of my mind and follow blindly just put so much relief on my nerves it isn't funny. Seriously. Dance just got a whole lot more exciting. Not that I wasn't excited before. I like the freedom of it. The simple steps (since we only learned basic) are full of nice patterns. The music has a better beat to it, nothing crazy. Dance is just a simpler activity. Unlike running or other intense cardio I've been turning to, I felt really good afterwards but not as sweaty. Here's to sexy legs!
Vedo, ballo. mangio l'uva e te. io ho il panino.
There, that was also my random addative of Italian, just like I promised. Maybe I should start looking up Italian words for dance? Since I hope to continue with this new found hobby of mine. 

Learning the Language: Italian

Ciao!

Come stai? Benevenuto! È il mio blog. Io scrivo qui.

And that concludes my pitiful Italian. I'm attempting to teach myself, but not having anyone to speak to makes the learning process a bit slow. I'm trying, and well, that's more than I could say a few months ago so I guess that's an improvement of sorts. I really like the challenge of teaching myself, and at times I attempt to translate things into my head. At my new place of work (the thrift store) sometimes I look at the new donations and say in my head "la scarpa- shoe' and 'oh, over there la borsa-bag!' and 'wow we have a ton of le camicie, wait is that the correct translation, if its la camicia in the singular, it would be 'le camicie for the plural?' and well there goes that train of thought. The verbs are the worst because I have such an issue with conjugating. And possessives. those such too. I don't know how I can ever learn another language if I barely have a grasp of English. My other issue is my many years of Spanish in middle and high school have permanently marred with Italian accent, not that I had a fantastic Spanish one to begin with. I find myself trying to speak Italian in my head and in return I have some garbled bi-product of Italian and Spanish. It's very disconcerting. I know practice makes perfect, and I try to read Italian articles and practice in my head. A friend told me that once I have a strong enough grasp of the language, I can dream in it. How awesome would that be? To see the world through a different language. My ultimate goal is to speak the language fluently enough that I can blog in it. No one would be able to read it (well except those of you who speak Italian, but I don't think that many of my followers do), but it would just be awesome.
I come from an Italian heritage and for a while, because I was a silly, angsty teenager, I turned my back on my heritage and the language. I regret that a bit. I also regret the trouble it caused in my household because I was determined to be a little rebel and spiteful. That's a whole other story for another day, but I wish I had taken Italian classes when I was in school rather than Spanish. It would make learning the language now easier but I think it would have eased some tension. Maybe. These are merely the Sunday morning thoughts of an errant blogger.
Anyway, teaching myself a language has been quite the challenge. Half the battle is remembering to practice a lesson each day. I'm looking for more productive methods of learning, because as much as I love Duolingo (an awesome starting point, and you can find it here), it doesn't have very good explanations for verb conduction and possessives. My lovely cousin gave me some Italian-English dictionaries and a set of disks to listen to. I wonder if listening to Italian music would help? Possibly? I just have come to really love the language, when I practice and the computer voice sounds out words, I wish that I could sound like that. So smooth with that lyrical accent. I sound choppy and my accent is terrible. I'm surprised anyone can understand me.
My roommate speaks fluent Spanish (and sounds so beautiful when she speaks it, too), and I'm, just like, I sound like Hodor, slow and dumb. I know it takes time, and I've been trying to teach myself for over a year and have made very little practice. It also doesn't help that I frequently gave up due to intense frustration. Well, I guess if I want to reach my goal of being able to write an entire blog post in Italian, I better keep it up. For someone who likes the challenge of this, I sure gave up frequently. But I've always come back to it, and its easier to pick up more quickly. I have one friend who speaks Italian, and he's been a great asset to me. He pushes me to keep at it and literally practice every day. I guess during my little bit of a down period, it was hard to feel excited or motivated to stick with the language. But now that I feel much better, this little side hobby can turn into something I practice with and use to motivate myself. Also, it works great with my new and improved hermit like tendencies. Who needs to go out when I can stay at home and listen to Italian music and attempt to speak it? Right? Right. That goal of being able to walk around my kitchen and speak entirely to myself in Italian is like the best goal ever. My lack of verbs is also a hindrance. I look at the knife and go 'il coltello', but I have no verbs to say I need the knife or I want the knife. io vedo il coltello' (I see the knife) but use is that to me. Maybe I should start littering my blog posts with random, meaningless phrases in Italian.
Vedo la camicia.
How's that for a start?
Arrivederci! 

The View from the Top

Hello folks,

Another Monday has come and is -thankfully - almost gone. Another September without academics to worry about. Another summer fading swiftly away. So much has past me, so much is no longer in my life. I'm still living it up as a single lady, and for the most part (except for the occasional lonely night) I'm really enjoying it. I focus more on my friendships and cooking more than I used to. I've tried new recipes and I bake so much more. I also live with an awesome lady who strongly encourages my baking habits, so that is an influence. I really enjoy being single. I'm starting a ballroom dance class as well, which is something I've always wanted to do but never did because well, I never had a partner who was interested. And I read a ton. A review will be up soon, I promise. The Name of the Rose is just too good to not write about.
This past weekend I went for my first solo hike. Up in Freeport there is this super touristy mountain, Baxter Mountain State Park, which is beautiful and small, but just the right place for me over the weekend to think and ruminate (I know a professor who would be proud I used that). I needed to get away for a little bit, just be alone for a while and succumb to the loneliness and the sadness. Maybe desiring to be alone doesn't make sense, but for a few hours I needed to not have to put on the front and take a deep breath and…chill. It was oddly relieving. Maybe this is why I love hiking so much. I don't need to put on any pretenses, I don't need to talk to anyone, I don't need to make excuses or attempt to look pretty. I just put on my hiking boots and set off for some Thoreau-like sanctuary in the woods. When I reach the top of the mountain, I feel so much closer to happiness. It's like I sweat out the negativity on the way to the top and then the break in the trees with the sunshine is such a cleanse.
Maybe that's why the desire to be close to nature is so strong: it cleanses you in a way. The silence can be a blanket after the harshness of reality, of the busied civilization, where the sounds of cars and people are muted, or not even heard at all. It's pure solitude at its finest, and I can shake off the stress and worry I carry around with me. Its difficult to focus on these stresses when I'm out in the woods. I tend to think of snakes and bugs instead. But when I reach that summit, its a tiny accomplishment. It's not big or anything, just really a small success. It's enough of a boost to alleviate all my stress and worry, its that relief that gets me to the next point, even if that next point is surviving the week.
We all have different ways of washing off the haste and the worry and sadness that comes with life. I think for a while it can be difficult to keep up with, and well life is so overwhelming sometimes. Hiking for me helps keep that balance that is so easy to lose. With the winter approaching rapidly (sheesh, its already September!), I hope to find more time to be out doors. I need to reach more summits, to feel the sunshine even if its somber yellow instead of summer gold, and feel the wind rush against me. It blows away this loneliness, this sadness that still clings to me like moss.
Hiking does so much for me, and I'm really glad I discovered it. I was never much of an outside person, much preferring the books and the inside. But hiking gave me a new outlet, a new way (which also happens to be a healthy way) of dealing with the issues of my life, of giving me a new outlook on things, and a way to find the solitude I crave but in a beautiful, open place.
The view from the top is much better than the one at the bottom. Trust me, I know, I've been there. Haven't you been reading my blog?