Two roads diverged in a yellow wood...

Fact: I love Robert Frost. But that's not what this is about.

I have this friend, a very close friend, in fact, who loves to ask really deep and somewhat philosophical questions out of nowhere, and expects an instant answer. I usually just give her one of two looks: o.0 (read: wtf are you talking about?!) or -__- (read: ...really?) when she does this, and wanted to do the same this last time, but I actually had an instant answer to the question. It came to my head before I could register either of the two looks, and then I couldn't deny it. 

The question? Something along the lines of "Who do you want to see but don't really want to see at the same time?" 

...You probably know where this is going.

Well, I saw him today. It...wasn't a total awkward-fest, but it wasn't totally non-awkward either. It's like...just when I'd totally and completely gotten over what it feels like when he has me in his arms, you know? I had to invite him to dinner, because in the situation, it would have been rude not to, but part of me was slightly relieved when he said he already had plans...I'm not ready to start making a fool of myself again. 

It's time to make a decision about this once and for all. (Can I even do that without talking to him about it? Is that fair to all the involved parties?) I have a date on Friday with someone else! If he asks me about Friday, will I tell him that? Will I sugar-coat by just saying I'm headed up to Rutgers? I don't know if/how he'd be affected by either answer. Just because I'm going on a date (okay just because I'm going on my first date ever) doesn't mean that the door we nudged open in May is closed on my end. I just...dammit, after all this time, I still don't know if it's open on his.

TURN OFF, BRAIN. STOP READING TOO MUCH INTO THINGS.


...do I ever want to have to wonder what might have been? Does he?

Pretty Mama if you're single, single...

So part of me really likes living in a single. I can watch my TV shows out loud on my computer, and don't ever have anyone bugging me to put headphones in when I'm listening to music. It's a major goal of mine to be at least relatively clean this year--so I can invite people over!--but if I slip, there's no one to bug me about my desk being a mess, etc. IF I DON'T FEEL LIKE WEARING PANTS, I DON'T HAVE TO. This space feels definitely MINE, and I've never really had that before, and I think I absolutely love it.

I will admit, however, that it was kind of scary going to sleep last night. I don't know why, because I slept in the apartment by myself in Chicago a few times! But alas, I am unashamed to admit that part of me really wants to get a nightlight. 

A diva nightlight like this:

 

I think that one of the best things in the entire world...

is the discovery that a friendship runs deeper and is more valuable than you'd ever predicted, the realization that in a rather unlikely and unpredictable source, you have found someone who will truly be there for you in a time of need, who will listen and advise without pretense or protest, and for whom you would unconditionally be willing to give the same honor to. It serves as a reminder that the people in our lives are gifts, and occasionally the most extraordinary of gifts comes in the most ordinary of wrappings. It is in these moments, this time we take from our lives and dedicate solely to a true friend in true need, that we remember how to say plain, pure, powerful statements, such as "You are important to me," and feel the blessed weight of their joy returned to us as well.

Packing

There are few things in the world I hate more than packing. I mean, I really and truly abhor the entire process. And this doesn't ever change, no matter how much I want to get to wherever I'm going. I'm sitting here, legitimately counting the hours (68) til I'm back home (by which I obviously mean on campus; there are few such places where I feel like I truly belong), and yet standing between there and here is a shitload of packing to be done, and I...am camped out on the couch watching Bones online. I tried to pack this morning. I got started. I just...it's so boring and so tedious and takes so much time and I JUST DON'T LIKE IT. *whine*

Dreams

"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." --Shakespeare

"No more worries; rest your head and go to sleep. Maybe one day we'll wake up and this will all just be a dream." --Eminem

^Up yours to anyone who says rap isn't poetry.

But that's a side note. This post is about the movie Inception. I watched it online earlier today, and those two quotes popped into my head as soon as the movie was over, while I was struggling to come to terms with reality. I remember in 2004 when that Eminem song came out--for those who don't know, Mockingbird, one of his best, go inform yourself--sitting at the table in my high school having a conversation with my friends over french fries, about how mind-blowing a concept that was. What if the entire life we have, everything we know and everything it feels as though we have ever known, is but a dream that we will someday wake up from? What if one day we woke up and our bed wasn't our bed, our hands weren't our hands, our reflection featured a stranger blinking back at us? What if our parents weren't our parents, our friends weren't our friends, and we were no longer the ourselves? If everyone from Shakespeare to Eminem to Christopher Nolan can become fascinated by the same idea (the most resilient parasite, after all), is there a possibility that this world which feels so really is just a product of our abundant imaginations? I'm sure it's not, but chew on that one for a while, haha.

Side note: I can't see people's faces in my dream. It's not like people are mannequins or weird faceless blobs...Everything's just a little too blurry for me to make out the details. Faces, places, all of it. Like, I know where I am, and I know who is with me (even if I don't actually know that person(s)....I rather often dream of strangers who are entirely known to me in my dreams...the products of my subconscious, I suppose), but none of it is entirely clearly visible. Almost as if it's from a "real world" I can't quite remember? (If the third level was ten years, we could spend lifetimes in a fourth level...a dream within a dream within a dream within a dream...) 

For your entertainment...

Random train of thoughts!

Follow me, this one is fun.

So my music player is on shuffle, and "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton just came on. (Don't judge me, 90s music is awesome.) So I was contemplating the line from the chorus, If I could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass us by? 

Falling into the sky was the part that was interesting to me for a moment.

It made me think of Falling Up, the book of poems by Shel Silverstein, whose books were among my favorites during childhood. (The Missing Piece is still a pretty accurate description of my life as a whole.) 

Thinking about Shel Silverstein made me remember this awesome thing that happened to me when I was visiting my dad in Florida last year. We were driving somewhere, probably just to Walmart or something, and I saw the best sign ever.

 

So for the longest time I've had this recurring random wonderment. It's often rather difficult to explain to people...so much so that, as of late, I'd rather stopped trying. 

It's like, when we're little kids, our preschool and kindergarten teachers point to some colored squares and say, "That's blue," "That's green," "That's red," etc. And we nod our little heads and say yes. And we go home and our parents do the same thing with our favorite ball and our jacket and the grass outside and the sky, and the colors of all these things are roughly the same as the colors on the squares our teachers showed us, so we nod our little heads and say yes. But how do you know that little Bobby sitting next to you in class sees the green square (and thus, the grass) as being the same color you see it as? What if little Bobby thinks what you both call "green" is actually the color you see as "red" and visa versa? What if your green is purple to him? HOW COULD WE EVER FIND OUT IF WE SEE THE SAME THINGS THE SAME WAY???

...One of the really and truly incredible things about this online dating thing is that it has matched me with other people who, in their I spend a lot of time thinking about box, list that exact question (in their own words, of course). ...I didn't even include it on my profile because I thought it was too weird. Mysterious forces are at work here, verrrrry mysterious forces.

Relient K - Be My Escape (Video)

Fits my mood right now. Idk who I'm begging, though. Possibly myself.

Facts

So as I've mentioned before, I've been using this dating site, OKCupid, recently. It has led me to realize something that I find very troubling about myself:


I have extreme difficulty answering the following questions:


What are some of my interests?


What do I like to do for fun?


...These are very basic and simple questions. I should immediately be able to come up with answers. I can come up with a few, but they're not very satisfying, even to me.


FACT: This is further proof that I don't do enough things for myself, because I want to and like to, not because they'll look good on my resume or will help a lot of people. 


Fact: This is a problem.


I want to I'm going to do more to fix this...I just don't know how to do that without disappointing a lot of people, myself included. I always thought I just liked being in charge of things, but maybe that's just all I'm used to. I need to get used to something new.

I always say I would NEVER have wanted to go to a big state school...

...but that's not exactly the whole truth. There are occasionally, times when I semi-seriously wonder what it would have been like. I'm going through one of those times right now. 

What is this time inspired by, you might ask? Well, I was sniffing around on Google, trying to come up with (read: steal) some ideas for what the black groups I plan events for on campus could do to welcome new students to campus. Firstly, I was surprised by the sheer number of results I got. I was so excited, look at all these links that [supposedly] contain ideas I can bring to my campus! :D :D :D *mental cartwheels*

...Then I started clicking on them, and was SORELY disappointed. And not in the usual google-search-didn't-give-me-what-I-want way, but in the so-and-so state's CENTER FOR BLACK CULTURAL AND STUDENT AFFAIRS hosts an annual BLACK STUDENT ORIENTATION, or so and so university's BLACK CULTURAL CENTER welcomes black students in this-or-that way, or other-small-private-liberal-arts-school's African American Student Affairs center, etc. etc. etc. when the director of our "Multicultural Center" just gives us empty promises and dry criticisms. I really can't imagine a possibility in which a large effort to make black students feel welcome and included on campus comes from the center itself, rather than our student organizations begging and pleading for its "support" while we scrape something together ourselves.

Sorry, moment of *angryrant*

Still on the search...

Patience is one of those virtues I REALLY need to learn. So is...

tolerance.

It's like, there are things I think are okay, and then there are things I don't think are okay whatsoever. There are varying degrees of these judgments, and I pass them more heavily or less heavily depending on how much I know and love the person being judged. (I sound like such a terrible person already.) I don't like to think this makes me intolerant, though. I like to use words like opinionated and steadfast...I just don't compromise on my beliefs well. I always thought standing up for one's beliefs was a good thing...
But this causes drama in my daily life sometimes. Because, okay, when talking about beliefs and theoretical happenings, my friend/acquaintance/potential-significant-other and I can disagree vehemently and loudly and staunchly, but realize this is all hypothetical and theoretical and go back to being friends/acquaintances/(potential) significant others and it's nbd. --That is, usually. Some of my friends don't seem to understand the way I was raised to have arguments and get offended/hurt. Conversely, I don't understand their "arguments" and get pretty ticked off when they speak quietly instead of showing their anger...bad things happen on both ends.-- BUT, when someone, particularly a very close friend (or I suppose a significant other), actually DOES something that falls under the "things-I-don't-think-are-okay-whatsoever" category, I just don't know what to do. How do you reconcile if-I-just-met-you-and-knew-this-about-you-I-probably-wouldn't-like-you with I've loved you all my life and don't understand who I'd be without you? I mean, I've-loved-you-all-my-life-and-don't-understand-who-I'd-be-without-you TOTALLY and OBVIOUSLY wins out, but how do I stop the harsh judgment? How do I not be...utterly disappointed? How do I stop worrying whether you're slowly becoming someone I love but don't really like? (Is that even possible? Does that mean I have some huge underlying problem, if I can love people without liking them? We're not there yet, but I see possibilities and they frighten me.)
 

I shaketh my fist at you, dangblasted Universe

All I want is just a tiny little adventure. Just to go see something new and exciting with someone I love--hell, at this point I'd even settle for doing something new and exciting with someone I barely know. 

I just need a break from the monotony. Something to make this stint at home worthwhile (not that I had any feasible alternatives to it).

Dear Universe,

Is that too much to ask?

-Maya 

PS: 

xkcd

So I've recently become slightly obsessed with the web comic xkcd. XKCD doesn't stand for anything, in case you were wondering, and proclaims to be a comic of romance, sarcasm, math, and language--3 of those are among my favorite things in the world! (And even math makes me remember high school fondly and wonder whatever happened to the person I might have been had I not gone to California and given up on calculus...she's probably wandering around in some parallel universe, furiously scribbling equations on some clear plastic board...) I had dabbled in it in the past, curiously clicking friend-provided links and occasionally venturing to the site on my own, but just learned that there is a secret message that appears if you hover over the comic, which sometimes provides further insight into the more complicated comics, and sometimes contains a second punch-line! It entertains me so, and I'm almost considering purchasing a signed print of one of my favorites to hang in my room. (Sn: I'm trying to think of really cool dorm decorations to put in my single, if you have any great ideas let me know. My room is mostly blues, greens, tans, and browns...I'm into cool colors.)
Anyway, it gives me so much pleasure during these days of summer boredom that I thought I'd let you all check it out too. It's really quite adorable, even if you don't get the math (which I almost never do.) 

My absolute favorite ever. (so far)

I like making random confessions on here...

Confession: Vintage arcade games like Pong, Tetris, and Centipede still absolutely fascinate me.

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Thirty: To Your Reflection in the Mirror

Dear That Girl I See Staring Straight Back at Me,

Yup I stole that from Mulan. So sexist, but one of my favorite Disney movies. (Sn: I love almost all Disney movies. Except the Toy Story series...not really the biggest fan. Didn't even see TS3.) 
Hmm, my reflection in the mirror. I don't see you as often as I used to, especially since I've come home. I guess I only really see you when I'm trying to make [so-called] improvements to you, like doing my makeup or plucking my eyebrows, and these things seem incredibly less important when I'm back in the house I grew up in, with the people who've known me since before I knew what mascara was. Or before I leave the house if I'm going somewhere I'll see people; but the only place I've seriously been with people since I've been home is the beach, which is rather obviously dress-down, haha. 
It's kind of ironic, because in the past I've had people mock me for how much time I could spend looking at you. Does this mean we've grown apart, or closer together? Have I just stopped caring about you? Are you me, or just a manifestation of who I try to appear to be? If I stop looking at you, am I trying to just be? 
I'm sure our relationship will pick back up once the school year starts. Hmm...that kind of pokes holes in my claim that I try to look good for myself, huh? I guess it really is for all of them. Meh, *hates that she cares so much what other people think of you*. Damn superficiality. 


-Me


PS -- I don't tell you this enough, but I love you, you sexay thang ;)

I am now in a world where I have to hide my heart, and what I believe in. But somehow, I will show the world what's inside my heart, and be loved for who I am.

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Nine: To Someone you wish you could tell everything to, but are too afraid to

Dear Person I'm Sick of Writing to,

I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M WRITING TO YOU AGAIN. UGH. 

I wish I could have told you how I felt as I was feeling it. When I had the chance, I was too scared. I became emboldened by your absence, but the whole other side of the world thing made telling you not really a possibility. Now I'm pretty sure whatever we started has ended without really getting off the ground, and this upsets me slightly. I had a lot of chances I could have taken, I should have taken, and while part of me wants to kick myself repeatedly, part of me says hey...so did you.

Time to just say oh well? 

Maya

 

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Eight: To Someone that Changed Your Life

Dear everyone I have ever interacted with,

I firmly believe in the philosophy of tabula rasa, that we are all born as blank slates, to be written on by those we meet, those we know, those we love and those we hate...even by those to whom we never gave a second thought. Every thought we think is influenced by those we have come into contact with, personally or academically, real or imagined; it's really hard to have an originally original thought in this day and age.

Anyway, I like to say funny phrases like color-me-happy and I'm living in a heavily outlined world. I like to think that all of you take turns coloring my world in.

Thanks for making me who I am. I owe you all my very life as I know it. Blessed be.

-Maya

Go ahead, grab a pen. There's space left there somewhere, promise.

Update to Letter 23

Just so you know,

I've gotten pretty sick of this. At this point, I'd rather have a new first kiss with someone else than a second kiss (second fit of kissing?) with you.

Do something to make this up to me, or prepare to feel...nothing from me. Nothing from me at all. A shell of a casual friendship, I suppose, because we have too many mutual friends for me to intentionally make things awkward.

Maya

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Seven: To the friendliest person you knew for only a day

If you told me your name then, I've forgotten it, but this letter is to you anyway,

You took one look at me and knew I didn't belong anywhere near the 47th Street Green Line stop. You were nice enough to not come right out and say it, though. I think you asked what time it was. I was reading, the same book I just finished, I think, (confession: I believe that, subconsciously, I only read that book because the narrator sounded just like *******. I think it's the whole learned-English-in-Kenya thing; their sentence structure is almost identical in its roundabout elegance.) and I recall being slightly perturbed that you kept talking to me. (Sorry.) You asked if I was waiting for a train, and I told you I'd just gotten off one; I was waiting for a friend. You were waiting rather impatiently for another train; you'd been waiting for a long time already. You made me aware of how much time I spent in Chicago waiting; writing this now, I think about how much of our lives we spent waiting. (This is totally unrelated, by my new favorite random fact is that, according to a Dentyne Ice commercial, the average person will spend 20,000 minutes of their life kissing.) You laughed at how long I thought the trip would take, because the Green Line is 'real fast', but warned that it would take longer if my friend was coming from farther north than Roosevelt. You asked where we were going, and marveled at the nice area our barbeque was being held in. You let me know where the bus stop we'd need to get on was, and about how far we had to go. I wouldn't normally talk to someone sitting near me at a train station, but you were relentless in leading this conversation, and until your train finally came, you were really great company. It was also pretty reassuring knowing exactly where I was going once I left the station, and I think my friend was impressed. You even told me to be careful and to have fun when you were getting on your train, and it wasn't condescending at all because I'm pretty sure you were a few years younger than me...just a LOT more street smart. 


Anyway, I never said thanks. :)


Maya

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Six: To the person you're most inspired to meet

Dear ******,

It's funny how for this entire challenge I've had no idea who I would write this letter to, and you popped up into my life yesterday and I instantly knew this would be to you.
I had incredibly low expectations for this dating site thing. I really just did it out of boredom and my desire for a distraction from the mess that is my life, lol. Oh and because it was painful watching ***** try to find matches for me based off her profile, because even OKC only gives us a 77% friend rating, XD.
And my low expectations were pretty much confirmed when I searched within 25 miles of my hometown in the middle of nowhere New Jersey...nobody even remotely interesting. It didn't get much better when I searched within 25 miles of campus. I was going to call it quits, but some little part of me wanted to see what I was missing countrywide, so I expanded my search to 'anywhere' just for the hell of it. And that's how I found you.
After spending about 30 seconds on your profile, I realized I liked you more than any of the guys I'd spent the last two days looking at, and unlike most guys, the more I looked, the more I liked! You're really into grammar like me and I'm sure you'd love to play Scrabble. You're slightly taller than me, and a musician, and were an English major. We listen to a lot of the same kind of music, and there aren't many black (okay even half-black) guys I know who'd admit to loving Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. Even fewer would write 'hold me' in cursive on their palm and hold it up for the world to see. (Even before I saw that, I wanted to hold you. That just multiplied my urge x infinity.)
Realizing that you were from Ohio and I'd most likely never get to meet you was so 
upsetting. It was like someone was dangling something wonderful in front of me and then snatching it away when I tried to grab at it. Before I left your page, I had to send you a message telling you how amazing I thought you were. It was an actual compulsion. If nothing else, it would be a nice ego boost for you, and who doesn't like a shot of self-esteem in the morning? So I messaged you, and told you that I thought you were adorable and I hoped my message would make you smile.
You didn't think I was creepy (thankfully) and messaged me back, saying it did make you smile, and that while Ohio was pretty far away, Philadelphia wasn't, and that's where you and your band would be playing a gig on Friday.   

*worldstop*

I told the friend who convinced me to sign up for OKC about you, and she all but screamed MAYA, THIS IS THE BIGGEST AND BEST SIGN FROM THE UNIVERSE YOU CAN EVER EXPECT TO GET. I don't really know if I even believe in signs from the universe, but if I did, I couldn't deny that this is one. And either way, I can't deny that I'm more into you than any other guy in my life, real or virtual. But alas, I don't drive, and none of my friends are willing to take me to your show. I'm not comfortable enough in Philadelphia to take the bus/train there and back by myself on a Friday night, even after having just spent 10 weeks in Chicago. Grr universe for sending me signs and then making them impossible to follow. If anything changes, I'll let you know that I'm coming. I want to come. I wish I could come. I wish I could sit in the front row and that you'd look into my eyes the whole time you were playing, and we could walk around the city holding hands til the wee hours of the morning, maybe finding a park bench or somewhere to cuddle for a little while. 

But then the night would have to end and I'd have to lose you. Maybe it's better to have never had you at all? Either way, my poor heart is so disappointed by life right now. 

If only...

Maya<3 

So my best friend has been seeing this new guy recently, and is totally infatuated with him. I pretend to gag but part of me thinks it's really cute. She hasn't kissed him yet, though, and I growl at her about feminism and how she doesn't have to wait for him to make the first move.

She threw that right back in my face, though, saying didn't I wait over a fucking year for ******* to make the first move? I tried to tell her about **** ruining my would-be first move attempt in Philadelphia, or an early train ruining it at Christmastime, but she wasn't buying it. ...And neither was I, I guess. 

Should I have? Would things be different? I don't know.

Does it do me any good to think about it now? Nope.

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Five: To the person you know that is going through the worst of times

Dear Mommy,

I know things are rough financially right now, rougher than we've probably ever experienced. I wish I could be doing more to help. I want you to know, though, that I'm really proud of you for not showing how hard it is. I don't know how you do it, but I can't see any cracks on the surface when I look at you, even though I KNOW they must be running all the way through.

We're gonna make it. I know we will. Can't nobody touch this.


I love you.


Maya

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Four: To the Person who Gave you Your Favorite Memory

Dear --,

I have been thinking about this all day, and I have decided that this letter is utterly impossible to write. I could tell you my favorite memory about each person in my life (though even that would take serious thought), but I cannot and will not rank them between my loves. 

Thank you and goodnight,

Maya

The Anti-Lesbianism Drug

Read (or at least skim) this article before continuing.

...I respect the honorable intentions that I believe this woman set out with, of improving the quality of life for individuals born with CAH.

That being said, however, I strongly disapprove of almost everything else. First off, who says this woman has the right to define what truly being womanly is? What qualifies her to dictate what is and is not natural or right for a woman to want, do, or enjoy? Personally, I don't think that

"women having little interest in babies and men,... and being drawn to traditionally male occupations and games, is “abnormal.”"

 and I know quite a few women who would agree with me. I don't think it's unnatural for girls to be a tomboy, or to think monster trucks are cooler than paper dolls. I also don't think it's unnatural for boys to wear their mom's heels or to want to do ballet. I think gender roles are dying more and more quickly, and I want to do everything I can to speed the process, because they belong about 12 feet under. 
What New doesn't seem to realize she'd be doing is undermining the entire feminist movement for the sake of making these babies "real women". Taking away the desire to go into traditionally male fields? In this country, EVERY field is traditionally male! Taking away the desire to not bear children? Childbearing isn't for everyone, and there are too many population problems in the world anyway. I don't know how she missed the memo, but being a secretary and then leaving the workforce to raise your kids is NOT the norm for women anymore. Move over, 1950s...it's 20fucking10. Not everyone WANTS to be a wife and a mother, and that's fine!
And this is a bigger picture issue, but why should these mothers get to choose whether their daughters will want to be mothers themselves? Why should anyone get that sort of power over another human being? This isn't exactly genetic engineering, but it bothers me just the same. Every human being is unique; homogeneity weakens species. I don't believe in meant-to-be's, but I support letting nature have its way.

Confession #next: My father just said that phone calls with me are the only ones he looks forward to. I didn't say anything in response. How could I, when phone calls with him feel like one of my least favorite chores?

I hate saying that, but it's the truth. I think it's impossible for me to see his name on the Caller ID without thinking oh, great. And I don't know how to change that. I don't know how to stop dreading having to talk to him. I don't know how to make talking to him something I want to do. I don't really even have faith that there is a way to find. 

I. love. my. father. I just...don't have much to say to him. There's not much going on in my life for the next five weeks. The answer to all his questions is "nothing", and it seems pointless to call him just to say that over and over again. And I don't feel like listening to him try to make everything seem better than it is. He gets on my last damn nerve sometimes, and I just don't want to have to deal with it.

He leaves me in such a bad mood sometimes. *sigh*

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Three: To the Last Person You Kissed

Dear *******,

Confession: I was on a half-hearted mission to kiss someone else before today, because I really didn't want to have to write to you again. It obviously failed, which isn't that surprisingly cuz it had been a damn long time before you.

Maybe this is just the next stage of my crazy overemotionality, but now I keep telling myself I just want to be over you. I hate not being able to say I'm over it. I hate this standstill we've been in. I was kind of expecting it, but I was expecting you to be at a standstill with everyone. So seeing you communicate with our friends and never so much as nod at me, it hurts. And while I can't ask you what happened to make everything change, I just blame myself. And that sucks. So I want to be rid of you.
But even as I type those words I know they're not really true. I just want to think about what happened as a past with a possibility, not as anything that guarantees a future. I'm just not really sure how to do that. I swear I'm trying, though. God, I even signed up for this dumb online dating site to try to find myself something to distract me from you while I'm laying around for the next five weeks.
I used to get all these great signals from you, and it made me feel so good. You made me feel so good. But now I don't get ANY signals from you, no communication whatsoever, and dammit I wanna know why. Maybe this is selfish, but I feel like I deserve that. If it's my fault I can handle that...I just don't want to let this go without at least talking about it. Can we agree to that? Please?


-My

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-Two: To Someone You Want to Give a Second Chance to

Dear ****,


I still don't really know what happened last year. I'm sorry for my punk-ass way of trying (and subsequently run away from succeeding) at addressing it. I hate the way we half-smile and wave like we're cool but we're not. 
I think you're a cool guy. I liked when we were friends. I was loopy and hopeful and over-the-top last year (I tend to do that), but I'm totally over that now, promise. I kind of miss hanging out with you though.
Today was your birthday. I almost didn't write on your Wall, because I'm always unsure about initiating interactions with you. But then I manned up and did it, and I'm glad I did because you wrote back to me rather nicely, like nothing was weird. It made me smile.
So I don't usually give second chances. But I guess I want to give you one. Or, maybe you to give me one. Or us to give each other second chances. Just to be friends again. Or at least friendly. :]


Maya

Magic special letter!

Dear lesbian lover,

If I had just one wish, I'd ask for diva magic ruby red slippers, way sexier than Dorothy's, that when I did a sexy little strut in them, they'd bring me to wherever you are. That's the only wish I'd need, because it would, by extension, give me love and happiness and joy and fun and everything else I could wish for. 

I miss you, betch, and I wish you'd come back to me sooner. Counting the very hours, my love...

Your more afrolicious half<3

Diva magic ruby red slippers like these:

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty-One: To someone you judged by their first impression

Dear ****,

When I first saw you, I thought you were going to be an artsy grad student poet who comes to the park near the museum to get away from it all and focus on your work. In short, I thought you were going to be exactly the kind of guy I'd love to stumble across on a solo venture in the city. 
But I was disappointed from the very beginning: "poem" turned out to be "gangsta gospel rap". Park turned out to just be convenient because you work at the museum, and are not going to school. You're 27 and I don't think you even went to undergrad."Artsy" could very very liberally be used to describe you, but it's definitely not a word I'd choose. 
I thought you were going to be a wonderful discovery. You were actually just an ego boost, and I was glad to eventually be rid of you. 
Haha, it's a good thing I never trust first impressions.

-Maya 

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twenty: To the person who broke your heart the hardest

Dear *****,

They say the first one is always the worst, right? No one understood how I could be so crushed after a week-long relationship, but our relationship wasn't really like that, was it? I've known you since the day you were born, and we [pretend] started a family of our own in kindergarten. And now, now I had to work up the courage to text you to wish you a happy birthday this year. Sometimes life fucking sucks.

And I knew that. I've known that for most of my life. I just never expected you to be one of the reasons it sucked. I expected you to never let ******* play Daddy. I expected you to write silly rap songs for me. I expected you to keep all those old home videos. I expected you to be the first person to really hold me. I expected that the feeling of your arm around my waist would become ordinary. Hell, after we were too old to take baths together anymore, I expected that a day would come when I'd see you naked again. But sometimes life falls short of our expectations, right?

Like after you raised me higher than I've ever been on a bridge of air, then made me look down and watched me fall, you expected that three years later I'd still be hanging there, waiting for you. You expected me to open my arms and take you back into my life as willingly as I did all the other times we were apart. Granted, you expected me to be angry...if I recall, you said the next time I saw you you'd spread your legs and give me a fair shot, because you know you deserve it. But you had all these expectations of being able to walk right back into that soft spot in my heart like nothing had ever happened.


And though it nearly killed me to do it, I didn't let you. I was stronger than that. I cried for days about it afterward, but eh, that was nothing compared to what I was when you destroyed me. Because that's what you did. I'm still not sure you realize that. And looking back now, I think you're the reason I pushed all my friends away, and you're probably the reason for *. If I couldn't trust you, then I couldn't trust anyone, and I could only be involved with someone I knew I couldn't love, because my heart hadn't figured out how to put itself back together again. So I said no, we couldn't try again. I said you had your chance, and you fucked it up, and that was on you. I said, however, that I missed you and wanted us to stay in contact, be friends, and you agreed.


I suppose it was silly of me to believe you. I suppose it's silly of me to have any expectations of you at all anymore, because though you were the first person who ever really knew me, we're strangers to one another now. Strangers with a long and sordid history, but strangers nonetheless. I suppose it's silly of me to want that to change. I've changed too much, and you'd probably have to, unless you have too. I'd settle for something as simple as you showing up on my News Feed on Facebook every once in a while; it seems somehow unfair not to know you.


If nothing else ever changes, I want you to know that I finally un-Humpty-Dumpty'd my heart, and while it sometimes still hurts to think about you, and it sometimes still pisses me off, I'm ready to try again...just not with you.

-The one you let get away, you silly silly boy
 

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Nineteen: To The Person that Pesters Your Mind, Good or Bad

Dear *******,

You have the honor of being the first person I've written to twice. :]

So "pestering my mind", huh? What an unusual way to phrase what that's referring to. It kind of reminds me of you, haha. You're always saying things in ways that are unusual and thus strikingly beautiful. The poet in me wants to just hang on to every word you say. (Lucky for it, I already kind of do.)

You're actually pestering me much less recently. I think I've really begun to be able to control it. If I want to think about you then I can go off on crazy la-la color-me-happy heart-dreaming sappy tangents, but I can pretty effectively shut you out too. Which I only want to do now because you being so far away and not-easily-communicated with makes me just live in memories and not focus on the present. And hey my life is pretty good right now so I'd like to be able to successfully live it...sorry that that means putting you on pause for a little while though.

But when I do let the tangents happen, these are the kind of thoughts that pester me. I am wiling to take this risk for you, and that's saying a lot because I would usually rather just ponder from afar and keep my poor little heart out of harm's way. The way you think intrigues me. I want to know more about where you're from and what it's like there. I just want to know more about you. I want to have more nights like the first half of that night, when we just have a bit to drink and sit and talk about our lives and our thoughts and our dreams. I wanna have more nights like the second half of that night too. ;] Nobody's ever held me the way you hold me before, and I want more of it. You make me feel beautiful. I hope I make you feel some kind of way too. Sometimes I hear freaking love songs and think about you, and part of me wants to gag but part of me just wants to sing. Besides this disappearing off the face of the earth thing, you do almost everything right. That scares me, but in a good way. 

etc. etc. etc.

 Way back when I thought I kind of liked you for the very first time last year, a friend of mine warned me that you take these kinds of things really slow. I know now that that was basically the understatement of the century. We're opposites in a lot of ways, and one of them is that I'm not a patient person under any circumstances (it's something I'm working on), and thus this ambling drunk depressed turtle rate at which this has been moving for the past year is KILLING me. I think you realize by now that I will be receptive to whatever moves you make, and I'm hoping this will cause you to be less tentative in the future. But I've got a back up plan: I will put the moves on you by week 2, that's a promise!

I miss you and I hope you're having an amazing time at home,

Maya 

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Eighteen: To the Person You Wish You Could Be

Dear Maya of My Dreams,

You're actually seriously confident, instead of this fake bravado shell confidence you put forth now. You are no longer ashamed of things that shouldn't shame you. You can take a compliment. You will also be able to take criticism well. You're more open-minded, but haven't lost any of your beliefs. You meditate as often as you want to. You aren't afraid to admit that rock/alternative is probably your favorite music genre, despite the color of your skin. You now what you want, and then make plans and action steps to get it. You're strong without being a rock. You're smart without being reserved. You're spontaneous without being stupid. You choose wisely and love freely and live well. You spend less time on makeup and hair removal and appreciate your natural beauty. On that note, you accept that you are naturally beautiful. You accept and embrace your past, treasuring it because it made you who you are, and you will also be able to let the past go and realize that most of the things that happened then do not matter anymore. You find ways to compromise with other people without compromising yourself. You find a way to make each day an adventure, and a success. You respect yourself in your every thought and action. You know when to care what other people think and when to just do your own thing. You don't get nervous when you're speaking in public, and can remain outwardly calm in stressful situations. You don't feel like such a freak for not wanting the things most people want. You don't analyze your life so much. You're comfortable with your body. You have the most awesome jewelry organizer ever. You can make anywhere you go be fun, even if it's boring old ML. You still have the best best friends in the whole orld. You're better at keeping in touch with people. You try new things even if they scare you. You don't worry so much about everything. You're less of a perfectionist and less of a procrastinator. You're an optimist. You remember to send cards to people on their birthdays. You have a savings account with money in it...preferably more money than is in your checking account. You've gotten back in touch with your artistic side, preferably in the form of paint and/or clay. You make music again on a semi-regular basis. You are happy. You are loved, and you love in return. You've stopped setting such unrealistic impossibly high standards for everything. You know how to really relax. You are patient. You are tolerant. You come to terms with how you feel about spirituality. You have concrete goals. You're independent without seeming like you don't need anybody else, you are fierce without seeming angry. Hell, maybe you're even a little playfully dangerous. Your head and your heart are no longer at war. You've stopped biting your nails. 

You're generally an awesome person, and I'm striving to become more like you every day.

<3,

The imperfect (but still hopefully kind of cool) Maya of today

18th Floor Balcony/Blue October

I have loved this song since the first time I heard it, but today it goes out to the birthday boy, even though it's not his birthday anymore where he is. I know where he is but not where he stands, so for now "I raise my hands as if to show you that I was yours/that I was so yours for the taking/I'm so yours for the taking". So I'm here waiting to be a belated birthday present if you want me. And if you don't that's cool too, I'd just like to know one way or the other. Kthnx.

Til then, "our hearts were on display/for all to see/I can't believe this is happening to me"...

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Seventeen: To Someone from your Childhood

Dear ********,

You fbchatted me today just to say hey, and I took that as a sign from the universe that I should write today's letter to you. As my best friend in 2nd and 3rd grade who just mysteriously disappeared off the face of the earth one day, you totally count as someone from my childhood. It's funny, I think about you a lot when I'm at school, because my eating club (don't ask) has a moose as its mascot, and the clearest thing in my memory of you is your love for moose. I think that's what inspired me to see if I could find you on facebook, and seeing as how you were friends with ******, that wasn't very hard to do at all. 
You're another one of the people I was thinking about during my recent reflection on friendships and growing up in general. When we were 7 or 8, me climbing up into that tree and hanging out over Harding Highway to talk to you while you sat in your bedroom windowseat was the most important thing ever. Going across the street to jump on your trampoline was a close second. But then I moved to Pleasantville (shh don't tell Hess School) and one day you weren't at school anymore. Somehow I eventually learned that you'd moved to New York and hadn't told me you were leaving, and that was the last I ever saw or heard of you until my random facebook wanderings.
But now that I've found you it's kind of weird. You're in New Mexico now and I think you're a lesbian and you work some sort of normal job and you don't go to school and as much as I hate to say this, I feel like you're going to go from being a person I haven't talked to to being a person I can't talk to, which is going to be sad. We don't have anything in common anymore, besides fuzzy memories of American Girl dolls and asparagus. Sadface. I do enjoy being updated on your life via facebook, though, so let's stay friends, k? Even if that's the only way we keep in touch.


Best,


Maya

It's just emotions takin me over...

Two words: 

 emotional detachment

I really don't understand them as a concept. My best friend has been going on all these dates with all these guys and my close-mindedness is rearing its pesky head, because I disapprove of all of this so hard. She sounds like an asshole guy (my apologies for the sexism) saying that she's just "having fun" with them. And I'm sorry, but I really just can't support using another human being for whatever pleasure you derive from them and then tossing them to the side. No matter how you spin it and try to dress it up, that's just not okay.

She says it's all just part of this game called love, and I realized that's my biggest problem with this whole romance/dating thing; why the fuck do we as a society treat something that is so important like it's a GAME?! It's why I can't watch any of those reality dating shows either; this should not be a fucking joke, and I really can't stand that people think of it like that these days.

Call me old-fashioned, but I STILL cry when Mufasa dies. I can't watch war movies because looking into a soldier's eyes for half a second and then seeing a bullet rip through him will leave me in a puddle on the floor. As much as I claim to hate sappiness, The Notebook and Titanic are my two favorite movies of all time. I cried when Obama was elected and I cried when I found out someone thought I had been rude on the first day of the conference and I cry when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm frustrated, when I'm upset, when I'm feeling overwhelmed, etc. etc. Also, it is physically impossible for me to watch someone else cry, even on television, without tears springing to my own eyes.

To make a long story short, I'm an overly emotional person. My swimming teacher in 5th grade once told me I cry at the drop of a hat...to this day, she's not far off. I form instant bonds with people and things and lose a part of myself by losing that bond. It causes me to keep a lot of objects (and probably people) in my life that I should have let go a long time ago, but I have a serious problem letting things go. One might say I'm an emotional hoarder. But as an always-writer and sometimes-artist and trying-to-be-free-spirit, what else can I do? Emotions are the crayons of my coloring-book world, and as much as I love black and white photography, sometimes the grass just needs to be green. 

That being said, emotional detachment as a concept terrifies me. It's, like, a fate worse than death: it would mean being so far removed from a situation that I don't form a bond. I am and have always been the kind of person that tries to give all of herself to everything in her life...but maybe I'm a bit too literal about the word "everything". Unless I'm totally and completely not vibing with a person, and thus feeling like I should not trust them for some reason, I open the door to my coloring-book world and ask them what color they'd like. It's really as simple as that. You're in or you're out. Ain't no such thang as halfway crooks!

So this detachment thing...it would require an inherent inability to trust. And there can be no love without trust. And what is life without love? (SN: this is a word I also use far too liberally. "Like" is total weaksauce in my book, and be wary if I use it around you...I'm probably trying to be nice.) It would be like saying NO I WILL NOT CARE ABOUT YOU before they even get a chance. I don't understand how I could be myself without getting my emotions involved; hell, I don't understand how I could be anything but a bump on a log. I don't understand why I would even listen to a word they say or remember their name if I'm trying to be detached from the situation...why even try to make memories? I tell you, I don't understand it. My world used to be walled in, but the right people came along and tore that me down, brick by brick. Now I only call on the guards in EXTREME circumstances, haha. I'm an open book, and I invite (almost) everyone in to color my world. Tabula rasa, right? Well imagine all the pages that I'd be missing if there was a waiting period before I handed people a crayon? How different would my world be? What parts would be missing?

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Sixteen: To Someone Who's Not in Your State/Country

Dear *****,

Sometime between August 7th and whenever you go back to school, you should come to Jerseyyyy. I miss you! You're one of the people I was thinking about when I was musing on how growing up treats friendships unfairly the other day. It sucks how when you're 13, a few hours away might as well be the freaking moon, haha. 


But it doesn't have to be now that we're 20! And by we I obviously mean the other two points of our love triangle and not our cute little baby, hehe. But we still love you :D 


And because we love you me and point three need to make a superawesome plan to come crash Nova! My weekends should be freer --that's a weird word--more free this semester! Let's have another awesome theme party like argghhhh pirates.


ALSO, most important: why do we never ever chat?? I know nothing about your life and this makes me sadddddddd.

A present for you:

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Fifteen: To the Person You Miss the Most

Dear Person I Miss the Most,


I'm having issues writing this letter. I'm slightly confused as to whether or not this is a good thing, but I'm not exactly sure who you are. There are many moments when I strongly miss someone in that moment, such as when I'm at the beach or when I'm having an India party or when I did that double-take on the train last week. But like, an overall pining over someone that I miss above everyone else?? No one is really standing out to me. It's not the silly boy; I'm still convinced that I've successfully moved him to the back burner of my life for the time being, despite what the best friend says. It's not the best friend, I'm pretty used to our relationship being primarily digital. Sometimes it's my mommy but only for a moment.
Last summer I would have had issues writing this letter as well, but for totally different reasons. I'd have missed so many people so much that it would be hard to choose who to write to. Besides another year's worth of life lessons and maturity, I guess the obvious difference is Chicago. My life is just so FULL here; it's sometimes hard to even remember the things I miss unless I really try to focus on them. A dull day in this city has to be, like, an active decision, haha.Instead of just distracting myself with things to fill the days, here I can actively plan a new adventure each day and feel satisfied at night after my exploration. It's a pretty fulfilling way of life; I'm going to miss it.
So I don't know who it is right now, but in a few weeks the person I miss most will probably be the independent-city-explorer-fulfilled-curious-free-to-be-herself person I have been here. Home will squish her like a bug. *sigh*


-My

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Fourteen: To Someone You've Drifted Away From

Dear *******,

Confession #1: If I'd just met you recently, I wouldn't be your friend. In fact, I think part of me would scoff at the idea of us being friends, because when it comes to the things that shouldn't be important but totally are, you're totally not on my level.

 But lucky (?) for us, I didn't just meet you recently. I met you what seems like a zillion years ago on the new playground at our elementary school, and truth be told, I didn't pay much attention to you then. A few years later a giant hole was ripped out of my life, and you stepped in to fill it. The rest is, as they say, history. 

I've been saying this for years, but sometimes I really doubt that history is enough to push us through. I know it's supposed to be Breakfast at Tiffany's and we only need that one thing, but I...need to feel like there's a reason we're a "we" now, besides the fact that we have been for the last 8 years or so.

When I first started feeling this way, we used to fight all the time. And I hate us fighting; it's like you're so huge and critical a part of my life and my memory that when something is wrong with "us", little pieces of my whole world come crashing down around me and everything is a bit shakier. I know it's not like that for you, and it never has been. I can accept that. We don't fight as much now anymore, and when we do, it's less vocal and full of cursing each other out and other terribleness. Now we'll just go a few days without talking to one another until one of us assumes we have both cooled down enough to apologize without fully meaning it and keep on keepin on. 

Confession #2: Sometimes I really miss those loud violent fights, because they at least showed that we still cared. Sometimes I feel like this new way is like it's not even important enough to waste the energy, which frightens me.

Confession #3: Do you ever feel like we're faking it? Like we're trying to make ourselves fit into roles we've outgrown and pasts that have grown fuzzy and misshapen? 

We don't do the things we used to do anymore. I can't believe we used to talk on the phone for hours every single day and now I can't even remember the last time I called you. But on the flipside, you used to almost never come over and now I joke about getting you a key to the house. So maybe this is just the natural next step to our relationship. We gain ground some places, and lose ground in other places...maybe it balances itself out. I still love you with as much of my heart as I can spare, and I'm going to keep telling the little voice in the back of my head that sometimes wonders do we even like each other anymore? to  because you're always going to have that place in my heart, okay?

There are things I hate about this place we're in now. I hate that I don't know any of your other friends anymore. I realize it's just because of the way our lives are organized now, but it sometimes kind of makes me feel like the significant other you don't want anyone to know about. I hate that I feel like you're growing up so much faster than me now. I think I did my growing up faster before we knew each other. I hate that there are silences in our conversations both online and in-person, and I find myself wondering if they're comfortable or not. I hate that voice in the back of my head that questions us, and I want to convince it that it doesn't need to. 

Help me out by taking me on an adventure, k? Help me by really being you around me, and I'll really be me around you, and we'll find a new kind of friends to be, since we're not the people we were when we were BFFs.

I love you and I miss you and I'll see you when we both get back to Jersey,

Maya

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Thirteen: To Someone You Wish Could Forgive You

Dear Me,

You do realize that you can't be perfect, right? Like, despite the crazy expectations people have had for you over the years, it's actually not possible. Impossible is nothing is a great motto until you keel over and die at 45 from all the stress and lack of happiness in your life. I really need you to stop treating every slight mishap as a total failure, and regarding yourself the same because of it. You don't always have to be the best, or the one on top, or the one who gets the credit for doing whatever. You don't always have to be in charge. It's okay to not always have an S on your chest...you're a strong woman, and a sensual woman, and a sassy woman, and a smart woman, but you don't have to be a superwoman. You really don't. It's okay to be vulnerable sometimes. It's okay to not know the answers to certain questions. It's okay to not always be smiling and happy. It's okay to be scared. It's okay to feel like you're in over your head. If running this conference for the past week has taught you anything about superstrength, it's that it's the most exhausting thing in the world, and it WILL wear you down. Regular strength and savvy can come in and save the day though, as long as you keep pushing through. Ask for help when you need it. Stop trying to take on the whole world with one hand tied behind your back; you'll lose your balance. Accept the fact that you are and have to be human, and accept it with poise and grace. It's not really something you should have to forgive, but forgive yourself for needing to eat and sleep and breathe and take care of yourself. These things are more important than leaping tall buildings in a single bound...

Just looking out for the both of us,

Maya

30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Twelve: The person you hate most

Dear ******,

As a general rule in life, I try not to hate people. I feel like it's bad for the soul. I try to see the good in people, to remember that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, etc.
I make an exception for you.
The last time I cursed someone out in these letters, I was being sarcastic. Let me make it very clear that I'm not in any way joking when I say you're a trifling piece of fucking shit, and if I never see you again, it's too fucking soon.
I hope you know your daughter hates you too. She finally saw through that mask you show them to see you for who you really are, and I wouldn't be surprised if she isn't ashamed to call herself your blood. I know I sure as hell would be.
You know, me and my mom could have had a good life. Sure we were kind of struggling when you met us, but we would have made it. We're strong like that. But no, you had to come sweet talk your way into her life, and go and get her fucking pregnant, and then offer to marry her like an idiot. And her, the single woman living with her sister with one kid and about to become the mother of another, what choice did she really have? I was too young to remember your wedding day, but I guess you don't remember either, because you certainly didn't honor those vows you made. 
You left her a week after your son was born. Your son that she named after you. What the fuck kind of human being does that? What kind of man can live with himself after doing that? Evidently you can, because you came crawling back to her with your tail between your legs, and now the mother of two of your children and not having a college degree, she [thought she] needed you to survive.
Then you yelled and screamed at us all the time, and beat us kids mercilessly with belts and physically fought with my mother every time the two of you got into an argument. God, it happened so often that when I was growing up, that's what I thought was normal. 
Then you left us again when I was 10. If I was ten, your children were four and five. But I mean, you were used to walking out on your family; this wasn't the first time you'd done it--or the first wife and kid you'd left. I'm sure you don't know that I was awake that whole night, listening to the two of you. You threw the fucking TV at her head. I still believed in God then, and I thanked Him for giving her the wisdom to duck. I'll never forget the sound of the glass shattering as it broke the window, or as the tv smashed to the ground outside. You slammed down the stairs and out the door, and once all was quiet I finally got up to go to the bathroom. She asked who it was and I said it was me, and I called out, "Goodnight Mommy. Goodnight Daddy," (I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE YOU MADE ME CALL YOU THAT. YOU ARE NOT MY FATHER. I HAVE A WONDERFUL FATHER WHO TRIED TO BE AS BIG A PART OF MY LIFE AS HE COULD, BUT YOU DIDN'T LIKE HAVING HIM AROUND, AND YOU DIDN'T LIKE SEEING THAT YOU'D NEVER MEAN AS MUCH TO ME AS HE DID, AND YOU MADE ME CALL HIM BY HIS FIRST NAME. FOR THAT, MORE THAN EVERYTHING ELSE, I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU.) and she said "Daddy's gone, and he's never coming back."
I don't think she remembers that. The next morning as I was getting the kids ready for preschool I smelled something burning downstairs. I rushed down and found her curled up in that pink bathrobe on the kitchen floor, spatula in hand, sobbing. I'd never really seen her cry before. The eggs were on the stove, burning. To this day I still won't eat eggs, because they remind me of this moment. I told the kids to go back to sleep, and called the school using my best grown-up voice to excuse us for the day. And then I sat down Indian-style next to her and rubbed her back and let her cry. And she talked to me. She told me all her plans to get us out of this bad neighborhood and out of this whole mess and into a new life. And she scraped and saved and bought us a new house and finished school and got a teaching job and I was SO IMMENSELY PROUD OF HER. 
And then you did the second thing I will never forgive you for. You made me hate my mother. You made me hate her, because after all her big strong talk and everything she did, you came back from fucking that other woman and wanted another chance, and despite all the promises she'd made me that day on the kitchen floor, she took you back. I had been free and fatherless and almost happy, but then you were back and in control of my life all over again.
But I can forgive the stress. I can forgive the unrealistic expectations. I can almost forgive the welts and the bruises. If I reached deep down, I might even be able to forgive grounding me for 3 months over a pair of damn sneakers. What I cannot forgive is that you had the gall to leave again. To cheat on her again. And then to move to Georgia and promise your small children that you would come see them for Christmas or for their birthday, and to unfailingly call the night before to say something came up and you were sorry. I can't forgive having to hold them while they cried and promise them that you still loved them, when I couldn't even believe that you were capable of love.
I can't forgive the fact that you basically abandoned them for your new family and the wishes of your new wife.
I hate you. Not even for what you did to me, as fucked up as all of that was. Not even for what you did to my mother, though she deserved none of it. I hate you because I watch what you did to your children get worse and worse every day. I hate you because now my sister has to know what it is to hate her father. I hate you because you brought a brother into my life and took him away.
I hate you because I owe you this broken little life I lead. Without you, there would be no brother and sister. There would be no Mays Landing. We would have headed to Savannah with Deece if it weren't for you. There would be no everything I've ever known without you, and I hate you for that. I hate you because I owe you my very life.


Maya

PS I hate that this letter is making me cry, because you're not fucking worth my tears, goddammit.

If you could be any animal in the world, what would it be?

Probably a dolphin. They're pretty and fast and fun and spend all day in the water and they're supersmart AND they're the only other known mammal to use sex just for pleasure. XD

Ask me anything

I think I just discovered that I am attracted to BBQs (beautiful black queens). Help?

haha you don't need help anymore. ;]

Ask me anything

I noticed that you're considering not running for a position in Quad next year. Why not?

I'm trying to simplify my life. Fact #1: I can't always be superwoman. Fact #2: I have been in denial of Fact #1 for as long as I can remember. I love being in Quad, but honestly, I feel like being an officer of Quad was just like, something I did because Maya is an officer of every club she's a part of, not because I really really wanted to. And while I had a great time, it's time to start doing things for me, not just to do them. I need to stop spreading myself so thin in so many different directions.

Ask me anything

I am a Grecian myth buff, and your hair reminds me so of the legendary Medusa. How do you keep your snake-like locks so beautiful?

:D <-- this question makes me happy.

In truth I don't do very much to them. I condition in the shower every morning, I usually do some kind of light scalp-oiling, and then scrunch some kinky-curly curling custard in there to keep the coils tight. If I want a more untamed look, I lose the kccc. I don't comb it out as much as I should, and I never use shampoo because it's bad for you.

If I was going to do one more awesome thing for my hair, I'd buy a satin pillowcase.

Ask me anything

Why so many self-taken photos of yourself? You don't think that makes you come across as a little vain? Or maybe makes it look like you don't have a lot of friends so you take pictures of yourself?

Eh, I think that I like taking pictures. You can think whatever you want about it, I don't really give a fuck. I don't really like other people taking pictures of me; if you want something done right, do it yourself.

Ask me anything

Why do you wear ridiculously tall heels on a consistent basis? Are you insecure about your height? Or are you trying to balance yourself out?

I used to be insecure about my height when I was a kid, because I was so much taller than everybody else. Then I decided that I was just going to own that; that I would be the tall girl and that would be what was cool about me. And then like, freshman year of high school when all the boys suddenly grew like 6 inches, I started wearing heels to maintain the image of being tall.

Now I've gotten to the point where they're kind of annoying, though, and recently purchased two new pairs of flats in an effort to weed the "stilts" out of my wardrobe.

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maya, do you think your gift for poetry comes straight from our lord and savior jesus christ?

lmaooooo. no. That would require a belief in your lord and savior jesus christ. Which is never going to happen, sorry. But thanks for thinking my poems are a gift!

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Realistically, what do you see being your ultimate (or ideal) profession?

oh how I wish I knew. Right now I'm thinking I could work at some kind of Afam history/studies/culture nonprofit or museum. But the part of me that wants to write books and inspire young minds still entertains the idea of being a professor.

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Do you ever wish that you were somewhere else other than US and had a cool foreign heritage story? Which country would you pick?

Do you mean that I was FROM somewhere other than the US? Hmm...I wish I knew where my ancestors were from, so that I could have a better understanding of my roots, but I'm not sure I would actually want to be from somewhere else. This is all I know! I also kind of like being a bit of a mutt; as cool as being 100% something is, it's also pretty cool having a lot of different flavors mixed up inside of you.

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Are you attracted to people outside your race? Are you attracted to ALL other races? Is this answer for certain without any lingering doubts?

My ex is a white guy, and throughout my growing up I was attracted to a lot of white guys, because I never really had that many male friends of other races. My ex before him is black. I've been attracted to Hispanic guys, African guys, Indian guys and the occasional Asian guy. I can pretty confidently say that there's not some whole race that I find wholly unattractive.

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Why Quad?

Why not? It was the only club I ever really partied at, they have Soul Food night once a month, the whole staff is black and pretty cool, I had a lot of friends in it already, and the people I met at the zillion soph events they had were all pretty cool too. It's not gonna be crazy expensive and they even let me be a soph officer. And I kind of like having this core of people on campus and a place to go chill that's not my room. AND I've got a shared meal plan so I'm not losing late meal? Seems like an epic win to me. :]

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