New President, New Wor(l)d Order.

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I just can’t keep quiet about this any longer!

Recently with the advent of a new presidency, the whole of the world has been assaulted with the idiocy of our new leader and his twitter postings, which have proven time and time again that he only has the vocabulary of a prepubescent girl. Alternately, we are shown even more images of angry, hurt, misled Americans (and just as many people from other countries) protesting the misuse of the Constitution and all that it has stood for, for over 200 years! What the hell just happened?! If I have one thing to be be thankful for after the travesty of this election, (and believe me, voting was difficult for me this year, but I did my civic duty!) If I am happy, it is only for the simple fact that it has made me look up words, and expand my vocabulary. (Something our illustrious new leader refuses to do.)

It’s not that I had never heard these particular words, or understood their meaning, I just, until now, had never really had a reason to use most of them, So many words, so many amazing words! I have expanded my vocabulary, bigly! I would like to share these words with you, to clarify the meaning of these beautiful words and make sure that we are all using these words to their full effect. (Not affect) And so, that we can show the world, that we, “Stupid Americans” as President Cheeto insists on calling his own constituents, will understand that we are not as stupid as he would have us believe.

I will use the Merriam-Webster dictionary throughout, although I personally prefer the Oxford, I would hate to seem un-American.

Misogynist: a word that was barely used until the mid-sixties, actually means, “strongly prejudiced against women.” I would have to say that the majority of the Republican Party can be labeled misogynistic at this point, after-all, who honestly in this day and age thinks it’s OK to have a Vice President who is so clearly against the health women and their reproductive rights? But wait…! Instead of being pro-life or pro-choice, why don’t we protest the simple fact that men should be WHOLLY responsible for birth control? For example, the second an unwanted child is conceived, (this means a man puts his penis into a woman, ejaculates to the point of impregnation, irregardless of the ‘irresponsibility’ of the woman ‘spreading her legs’) the man is instantly and irrevocably responsible for that life, or he goes straight to prison! Let’s see how many babies are born when this happens, ohhhh and the finger pointing!!! Yes! birth control for men! Why aren’t we entertaining this awesome idea more??

Xenophobic: is a word to show “having or showing a dislike of or prejudice against people from other countries.” Growing in popularity sine the 1940’s. I like this word so much! Our new emperor seems to think that the meaning of “The Leader of the Free World” means that it is quite alright to protect our free world by hating people from other countries and not allowing them refuge when things go to shit in their not-so-free-world! What happened to,

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

I guess the lamp burned out?

Hello knuckle dragging ass-clown, this country was founded upon the backs of people working their asses off by people from other countries! The only people who truly have a right to this country (the actual land) by way of being here first, are the indigenous American Indians and the Mexicans! Europeans may have come to tame this wild land, but if history has taught us nothing, it is that it wasn’t the most gentle passing of the reins. All people of European descent are foreigners, including our new egomaniacal ruler and more importantly, two of his three wives have been married into our new and improved let-them-eat-cake America by way of marrying him. (BTW, none of them seem happy? Tiny, little, puny hands, tiny, little puny…?)

There are so many words! Beautiful words. Tremendously terrific words. Here are a few I love or hate, or wish I didn’t have to use ever again:

Homophobic: “having or showing a dislike of or prejudice against homosexual people.” I don’t think I need to clarify anything here.

Narcissistic: “having an excessive or erotic interest in oneself and one’s physical appearance.” I now hate the color orange. Thanks a lot.

Misleading: “giving the wrong idea or impression.” (No clarification needed here either, Or is it??)

Rhetoric: “the art of effective or persuasive speaking or writing, especially the use of figures of speech and other compositional techniques.” I believe I have used this throughout my entire post… I like rhetoric, especially when it is used wisely and intelligently.

Bigot: “a person who is intolerant toward those holding different opinions.” I love this word because it comes with so many amazing synonyms that explain our braggadociously arrogant, pompous self proclaimed ruler. Words like, chauvinist, partisan, and sectarian. Sectarianism is a form of bigotry, discrimination, or hatred arising from attaching relations of inferiority and superiority to differences between subdivisions within a group (wikipedia). Let me give you a few prime examples:

“There are people — I categorize them as life’s losers — who get their sense of accomplishment and achievement from trying to stop others. As far as I’m concerned, if they had any real ability, they wouldn’t be fighting me, they’d be doing something constructive themselves.” –Donald Trump (www.yourdictionary.com).

In May, Trump implied that Gonzalo Curiel, the federal judge presiding over a class action against the for-profit Trump University, could not fairly hear the case because of his Mexican heritage.

He’s a Mexican,” Trump told CNN of Curiel. “We’re building a wall between here and Mexico. The answer is, he is giving us very unfair rulings — rulings that people can’t even believe.”

Curiel, it should be noted, is an American citizen who was born in Indiana. And as a prosecutor in the late 1990s, he went after Mexican drug cartels, making him a target for assassination by a Tijuana drug lord (www.huffingtonpost.com)

Now that we have these brave new words clarified, I can only hope that they will be used wisely and with the respect they deserve. After all, so many of them have been sleeping dormant for many years just waiting to be utilized again. Lucky us.

(Stay tuned for my next post that will highlight the colorful verbiage used by our pen-wielding Mango Mussolini.)

Read more at http://www.yourdictionary.com/slideshow/donald-trump-20-most-frequently-used-words.html#CtQBERJFyVs1zQHf.99

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/donald-trump-racist-examples_us_56d47177e4b03260bf777e83

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

God. I’m Tired

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Well, I moved home to help my ailing mother and nothing has been right since. I am homesick to the core of my being for Italy. I miss the life, my friends I made there, and I miss the food. Most of all I miss being happy. I haven’t really been happy since I came back to the U.S. I don’t like it here. Maybe I am missing the nuances of being lucky enough to have been born in the United States? I try to like it/appreciate it, really I do, but nothing good seems to happen to me here. It’s almost as if the universe is screaming out at me that I no longer belong here and to leave as quickly as possible. That’s not possible. I decided to go back to school since coming back and now I am stuck until I finish. So as of right now my life is this: I moved into an apartment I can no longer afford. My beloved Shane died. The last guy I dated destroyed my MAC, my Nikon and my new phone. He had a drug induced freak-out and I lost. I have no job and my car was stolen on January 2nd, yay, happy new year to me. To top all of this off, my cousins friend decided to stir a pot that wasn’t cooking, right after the boyfriend debacle, so my cousin hasn’t spoken to me since July, and my son came to visit my mother and now my son isn’t talking to me, because as per the usual, my mother said something that wasn’t fair or true, and he is now  insisting that I have lied to him and I need to get help. I have never lied to him, why would I? Do Santa, the Easter bunny and tooth-fairy count? What did I miss while I was trying to make my life better?? Things just feel as if they are going to hell in a hand-basket. And to top this all off I am forced to live in a country that has elected a prepubescent juvenile delinquent for its president!

WTF?!

Trust me, I may sound like I’m whining, but I’m not. I have been looking for a job for three months! With a short stint in-between at GoDaddy, after 2 weeks there, I somehow failed their, “don’t you wish you were smart (cool) enough to work here” test. I failed in by 1%. I had to pass by 80% and I got a 79%, which means I missed 11 questions on the test, there is just no way. It was open book. I’m a 4.0 student. I am still laying in bed late at night trying to figure that one out. If anyone who reads this can do some percentages math for me by all means shoot me a message. I have had interviews with at least 6/8 companies and have filled out 100’s of applications. I go in with a healthy attitude and walk out depressed. Please don’t tell me that I need to be positive so the universe will hear me. She is not listening and I am at the end of my patience rope. My faux aunt keeps telling me to finish school. I love her for having something positive to say,  and supporting my emotional ups and downs, after all, no one else is, but what happens when I finish and I can’t find a job? I have experience NOW and I if I can’t get my foot in the door somewhere, what difference will it make once I have that stupid piece of paper? I’ll have this great piece of paper, a very expensive piece of paper, that I borrowed a lot of money to get, that I can no longer pay back.

Let’s talk about the job hunting experience. I have read several blogs and articles and advice columns on how to get through an interview. What I have decided is that, A) it’s not what you know but who you know and, B) If you are a certain age, they aren’t going to really look at you unless you really look like you are willing to be paid $11-$13 and hour. First off, who can live on that? Second,  it’s daunting to go to these interviews and be interviewed by someone half my age. Not that I’m that old, but it’s still really frustrating. I feel like i’m in some circle jerk where if I don’t have the piece of paper I can’t get the job, but if I don’t have the experience for the job it doesn’t matter if I have the piece of paper. How do kids just out of college do it? I guess that’s why you go to college young, so that when things go to shit, you can still lean on mommy and daddy?? I swear that when I finally do get my dream position, I will make sure that every person over the age of 40 that interviews with me, will get a job somewhere in my company!

When I started back to school, one of my cousins, who worked for an a big logistics company, told me I should go back to school to be a business analyst. I thought, awesome! I can do that, I like computers and I’m good at managing several things at once. I’m a good communicator. I’ll be great at this job. She let me know that she would have a position for me when I graduated. Great, Right!? Wrong. She has since left that company and is now living in her nice new, big house, all in love with her girlfriend, and has all but forgotten about our plan. OK. No worries. I am really happy that she is happy. If anyone deserves it, she does. But now what am I going to do? Pretty soon I’ll have a degree and ZERO experience and no job prospects.

OK, I am whining, but I feel like I am perfectly justified in doing so. When can I get off the shit merry-go-round? I never should’ve left Italy. I thought I was doing the right thing by coming back to help my mother. After all, she was crying. I tried to help her but that women is psycho. If my son is any indication, the fruit really doesn’t fall far from the tree and he better watch it, karma really does come to collect. Do the sins of the parents really follow the children through life? If that’t the case, I am working my ass off to break that cycle. Hopefully he won’t get this disease. Which brings me to my relationship with my mother.

Have you ever known that throughout your whole life you were just one great big disappointment to at least one of your parents? No matter how hard they tried to be affectionate, they just couldn’t get past the fact that you weren’t what they wanted? That’s my mother and I. My mother wanted a boy. I even had a boy name, she was going to name me Patrick. She is Patricia. I wonder how my father felt about that one? My relationship with my father was great. No matter where I went or what I did, I always knew he loved me unconditionally. My mother was a whole other story. As a child, as long as I did things she could be proud of, like make pretty pictures in art class, and keep my room like a museum I was loved. But the second I was unruly, or didn’t make my bed, I was despised.  As a teen, she let her abusive boyfriend beat her and then come after me and still she let him back into her life, and she let him into my son’s life even after I asked not to. As an adult I learned that if I dated the right guy i.e, one with money, that came from a family with money, I was once again loved. She hated my husband, and was so pissed when I was pregnant that she once tried to hurt me by opening the dish washer onto my stomach. Of course once I had my son, I wasn’t loved, he was. And the hits just came coming from her. I moved him as far away from her as I could, because I could see the manipulation starting when he was about 8. She would tell him he could do what he wanted and that he didn’t have to listen to me, and then when I finally gave up and moved him to his father in Virginia, she found a way back into the graces of my ex-husband, even though he knew what she was about. Several times since she has found a way to manipulate my son to the point that he hates me and feels that I am the toxic one. Not once have I lied to him or not been there for him as only I could. I have never told him that he is not loved, or that he can’t be whatever he chooses to be in life. I have always supported him and loved him, no matter. Have I made mistakes? Of course. I certainly have regrets as a parent. The best, most perfect parents in the world feel that they somehow wronged their children, but I know that without a shadow of doubt, he has always been the most important thing in my life, and I know that he knows this.

I have never felt that feeling from my mother. Ever.

One reading this can see why I whine. I’m tired and my heart hurts. I just want to be back in Italy. Things weren’t perfect, but I was a hell of lot happier.

And so, I ask, what would you do if you were in my shoes?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An ode to happiness.

Lately, I have been very depressed. I’m burned out on school, can’t find a job. My kid and my cousin won’t talk to me, etc…etc… (Yes, I am starting to sound like a scratchy, old, sad country western song.)

A series of events has set me back and every time I think I am happy enough to start writing again, something new happens, something that pulls that rug out from under me, stomps on my heart and throws what’s left under the bus. Oddly enough, this has given me a chance to re-evaluate what happiness means.

What does happiness mean? Is it landing the perfect job or significant other? Is it driving the best car, or being wealthy enough to own two, is it having a big house? Or maybe it’s making other people miserable so you don’t have to see your own faults. I mean, Hey! If you’re a big asshole in their eyes, that MUST mean they’re that much less of an asshole when they look in the mirror. Right? Maybe it’s pointing out everyone else’s faults, and then you can really feel better about yourself! Happiness can be turning your back on someone who loves you, unconditionally just so you don’t have to forgive them, that might make you feel happy… Or, how about driving a wedge between two people, with your superior knowledge and rabid jealousy, just so you can have them all to yourself… will this make you happy? And for some, having a bunch of children that get all A’s in school, excel in sports and play five different instruments is happiness. Hell, I don’t know. What I do know is that this is not what happiness is to me.

I am far from perfect, but I try to be a good person. When I was little, I spent an abnormal amount of time with my truly bizarre Puerto Rican grandmother and overweight, polio riddled aunt. When I was with them, I was the happiest. I always had food to eat when I came home from school (rice and beans of course!) and a place to lay my head when I was tired ( My aunt’s hefty boobs made the best pillow!) I had a bike to ride and a field full of kids to play with. When my grandmother was mad at me, she would lovingly call me every name in the book, except mine. (I’m not kidding either. I was Blessing, Dolore, Becky, Danny, Denni and Coño Carajo! and then eventually that would whittle down to ai mierda and finally Michella) Which was essentially every name of all of my other cousins minus one or two, I was never afraid of her unless she got the spoon or took her shoe off, which she rarely did with me.

My grandmother was happiness. And, I loved her. She taught me important things like how to sew and make Puerto Rican food. She told me stories and read me bible verses, trying her hardest to make sure that no matter where I went or what I did, I would be able to find happiness, or at least make some. And then there were the other, more useful things like, “Blood is thicker than water,” and you should NEVER choose friends over family, but if you do, make sure they are someone you can tell your darkest secrets to. Never have more than you can carry on your back, you never know when you may find yourself on the move. Having too many things weighs a soul down.”Follow the Golden Rule,” and if you can, all of the Ten Commandments. “God loves you even when you don’t love yourself.” “Because you are a woman you will have to work harder than any man.” (And after she would say this, she would look at me, grab me with her pointy dagger fingers and say, “Annnnd you, Michella, will have to work the hardest!” and then slam me into her pointy boobs and give me a hug while praying.) My favorites, of course, were, “Say Please and Thank You and ALWAYS wear clean underwear.” Grandma Maya was a wise woman.

As I grew older and wiser myself, I realized that what made me happy, quite possibly, pissed others off. Why? Who knows? I’m certainly not judging anyone for their Happiness Quotient, why should what makes me happy be judged?? I don’t steal. I’m not a junky. I’ve never been in rehab or AA. I’m not hurting anyone by speaking my mind and standing up for what I believe is right, and yes, sometimes it is the world according to Michelle. Why shouldn’t it be? No one else is paying for my sins or my rent. I used to find happiness in complex things. Making others happy. Trying to fit in, even when I knew I didn’t. Trying not to be argumentative, even when I knew there was wrong information being delivered. Owning a nice home, car and all the crap that comes with it. Making sure my child had all of the crap he wanted. Marrying, divorcing, dating the right men, all because they had money, no money, an education, no education and on and on. I don’t fit in any of those molds. None of those things make me happy any longer. Now, I long for simplicity.

The things that made me happy as a child, should make me just as happy now. I don’t care if I don’t fit in with your ideals, and honestly, I don’t care if you fit in with mine, this is not what made me care about you in the first place. My needs are simple. Be there. Trust me. Know that I am doing what is best for me at this moment. And know that I will be there for you at your time of need.

While I finish my education, support me with love and a good laugh once in a while, this is some tough shit man! Call me up and YOU apologize for expecting me to be like YOU or HER or HIM or THEM. I am not. If I have hurt your feelings or insulted your moral ethics in some way, I certainly didn’t mean to, and well,  maybe when passing judgments, we all need to take a look in the mirror and see where we may have lost our way. I am who I am, and this makes me happy. Quit worrying about what I am doing wrong and look at all the things in my  life I have done right. And most of all, quit judging me.

Happiness is not finite. It is what we make it. The things that make me happy today are the little things. Helping people. Smiling. School, even when it’s kicking my ass. My tiny quiet apartment. Rice and beans. Holding hands. Having a glass of wine with a friend. Being quiet. Hiking. Singing to old 80’s songs. Making mistakes. (And I am going to keep making mistakes, it’s how I learn, even at this age, what works for me.) Allow me to be happy the way I know how. Let me be me, and you be you, or so the song goes. All I want is a simple life. To be loved and be able to love back. Is this too much to ask for?

Oh, and a pair of clean underwear…

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