My first blog post!

I've had a Livejournal since I was fourteen years-old, almost four years! It's been a place where I can share my utmost secretive thoughts, ideas and feelings to people who - over the years - have become my "Internet friends," and some (Tally boo) who have just become "friends." It's so easy to be one-hundred percent candid with people who know and don't know you, with people who are willing to offer words of advice, cheer and understanding without any judgement. Up until now I've been too afraid to share much - if any - of my true feelings with my family. Scared of being labeled "weird," I've kept them to myself, only sharing them with my Livejournal buddies. But almost a year ago I moved to Chicago from California (holy shit was that some winter) and in a way I began to miss my family. I missed going over to my Tia Hope's house and hanging out with my cousin's. I missed my Nana and my Papu. I missed my Tia Martha and her bbq's, spending time with my entire family, the food, the laughter from the women that I'm sure you could hear from down the street, my Uncle Mike, tipsy...well drunk, dancing to his oldies. And although I'm certainly not going to be as candid about life as I am in my Livejournal - we all need secrets - I'm dipping my toes into the blog spot world, and finally sharing a big part of myself with my family and friends back home. Here's to hoping I don't disappoint!

Like I said, it's been almost four years I've kept a journal online. Almost. In one-hundred-and-fifteen days I'll be eighteen-years old! Most years I don't like making a big spectacle of my birthday, just another day and another year. But eighteen is one of those significant numbers. You can drink (in Europe) you can smoke (ew, no thanks) you can join the Army (lol) you can sleep with older men (yes!), and I plan on doing 1/2 of that!

^^The April Pumps I want for my bday!

For me though, eighteen is a weighted number. When we first moved out to Chicago I had a plan. I was going to obtain my GED and a job. I did get my GED, but no matter what I do it seems that I just can't find a job that will hire me. Everywhere I apply to I need work-experience - which is such bullshit - but I can't get a job so I can gain some "work-experience." I think that's called "cruel irony." In case you're wondering, yes, I do use quotations that much in real life. And because of it I feel like a disappointment to my mother. I feel like I disappointed her for getting my GED instead of finishing High School. I feel like I disappointed her for denouncing my belief in religion and becoming an atheist. I'm not a disappointment to myself for this, but I can tell she is. And when she throws it in my face, she may not know it, but it hurts my feelings. I would never make fun of her for believing in a god because I respect her and her beliefs, but she's not granted me that same respect. Several times she's thrown my atheism in my face: "You'll see, you're going to hell." "I hate atheist like you who tell me that what I believe isn't the truth! (Something I've never said)" In the past when I've tried talking to her about it she's just yelled at me or blown me off, and it's frustrating, because I wouldn't and I don't do that when she's talking about god, even though sometimes I wouldn't mind doing so.

But I've lost track of where I was going. I feel like a disappointment to her because I don't have a job. She doesn't see me in the kitchen while she's at work and Sarah is at school, on the computer applying to every job I can find, sometimes for hours: fast food places, CVS, Pot Belly, Dominiks, Target. She doesn't see this, and when she's come home in a bad mood (something Sarah and I have both come to anticipate this last month) and calls me "unproductive" it hurts me. Because I do try. It's hard for me to go outside sometimes. A few weeks ago while mama and I had gone to Navy Pier to pick up her pennies I nearly had a panic attack. I became anxious and edgy and I just wanted to go home.

Large crowds scare me and rejection scares me, but I've made progress. I can take a walk by myself, I can take the El by myself to her job and wait at Starbucks by myself until she breaks for her lunch-hour, I can go to Borders downtown during the weekends and read for hours by myself. I just don't think I'm emotionally ready to take my job-hunt outside yet. And I can't even imagine how embarrassing it would be to have a panic-attack in public. Not always does she see the small steps I've taken this last year, but I know I'm trying. I just have to remember that and be proud of myself.

I'm also excited for eighteen to come! Eighteen means I can finally get my passport, and I can finally find my au pair family. Mama has said several times that she doesn't think I'll go to Paris because she "hasn't seen the wheels started turning yet," but I've known all along that this birthday is exactly what is going to begin turning those wheels. I'm so excited to begin my life in a foreign country. I've always had my mother's adventurous soul only without the means for actual adventure. But I'm going to be living in Paris for a year! I plan on fitting four years of college into one year, so here's to sorosis of the liver and negative pregnancy tests! (lol I'm only kidding..sort of). During my time in Paris I also plan on learning Russian and getting a TEFL certificate so I can be able to teach English as a Second Language in Kiev, Ukraine after my year in Paris.

^^ Podil, a district in Kiev, Ukraine

Eighteen is my launching pad year and, for once, I'm excited about this birthday!