Boyz and Hockey

 Okay, so I met someone who is nifty/awesome/dorky and completely lovable.  But I'm guarded, so I guess we'll see how it goes.  He seems honest.  That's all I'm asking for at this point.

And it's sort of great how I met this guy.  Me and Sarah were on dating4disabled.com and, as usual, a bunch of dudes IM me on the site.  We were just joking around, not really looking for anyone and giggling about silly boy's comments about how beautiful I am.  Like, please, I know this.  But one guy stuck out to me, and I continued talking to him days after.

So, that's the dish from my dating life.  Going good, I suppose.

In other news, I hope le Ducks win tonight!  STANLEY CUP BABY!!

If I ever got married, I think I would want my marriage to be like Ina Garden's. Ina is a chef on The Food Network, and her husband works in the city. He only comes home on the weekends. I think if I had to actually see my husband on a daily basis, I would end up killing him in his sleep. Or maybe not. I'm not in a rush to find out.

Ina and Jeffrey (her hub) seem awfully happy, too.

I hate the phone.

My friend Ansel told me to leave him a voicemail because he wanted to hear my voice. So I left, quite possibly, the dumbest message ever. I hate the phone.

"Hi, uh...this is Erin...so...have a nice day. Byeee."

Stupid, I know. Now I have to leave one for my man Mike. I'm sure it will be equally as lame.

Why do I hate the phone so much? I think it may have something to do with awkward silences. Or just bad reception. Something - it gives me anxiety.

period!

I actually meant to write more in that last entry. But just writing that last night practically brought me to tears. Maybe I'll write the rest later tonight.

I spent the majority of today talking to Milly, who is seriously one of the best people I know. We talk just about every day, about the MOST random stuff. Our AIM conversations consist of many LOLs and ROTFLMAOs. If an outsider were to come read our convos, they would be very confused. But we think we're pretty funny.

I'm tired right now, and I am practically nauseas all day when I have my period. That's right, I'M BLEEDING AS I TYPE. I have no shame. It's not something to be embarrassed about. C'mon people, we're all adults. I don't get when people put a DOT on the calendar to indicate that is the day their period is due. Me? I write "BLEEDING TODAY" in big thick sharpie letters, and then I draw arrows pointing to that day.

Highschool and death

Sometimes I have dreams about being back in highschool. Or dreams with my highschool friends and me hanging out at some random place. When I was that age, I really hated waking up early. My mother probably wanted to kill me because every morning I complained about the time. I complained about being nauseas (which I was every. single. morning). My dad would sing as soon as he woke up, and I would complain about that too. I was (and sometimes still am) a strait up bitch if I have to get up before 10am. While in school, I couldn't wait for the bell to ring, announcing that our day was finally done. I lived for AP English, Honors Biology, lunch, free period, and art class. I was definitely in a clique. Our entire highschool was one big clique. Jocks, Skaters, Druggies, and Nerds. I'm sure it's not hard to guess what clique I was in. The Nerds were the smallest group, composed of the 12 or so students in the National Honors Society and a few stragglers. We all sat at the same lunch table, and I loved that connection with people that you see on a daily basis. I think this is what I miss the most and why I have dreams about it. I mean, I have friends here who I see a lot, and we definitely have a special connection, but I miss that daily interaction. I miss the feeling of belonging to a group. In college, it was very awkward because I was seen as an outcast. I wasn't used to that. I tried to be in a group, but I was often pushed out. Not in an obvious way, but subtly. This is also a huge reason why I want to get a real job in a social environment. I crave cliques.

I only had one higschool dream that was pretty upsetting. Chris was in it. He was a friend of mine that I had a huge crush on. We would argue about who was the better superhero: Batman or Superman? We'd steal each other's Pez dispensers. Sometimes we'd sit in art class together and watch Invader Zim. I remember his eyes so vividly. I never saw anything so blue in my life. A strand of his messy black hair often hung in his face, and I'd secretly swoon. I heard in my third year of college that he was hit by a car walking home from work. They said his body was dragged for a while before it finally killed him. People always say "I couldn't believe it!" when something shocking happens, but I never fully understood the statement until that moment. I sat in front of my computer screen, looking at the instant message I just received. I blinked. All I could type back was "oh my god." That night, after it finally semi-sunk in, I called my mom and told her. She didn't really remember who he was, so she looked in my year book. "Oh my god" she said. Her best friend Betty Anne was over, and she told her too. Who knew Betty would also die in a matter of months? I had a dream after she died too. More vivid than the Chris one I had. My dream with Chris was so real, though. I was laying on my side in my bed, staring at my closet when the doors opened. He walked out and kneeled in front of me, reaching his hand out for mine. We intertwined fingers and he said "Thank you, I love you." He pulled his hand back and smiled at me. Then he walked back into the closet, and sort of walked up invisible stairs into the ceiling, vanishing in a green mist. I immediately woke up and touched my hand. It was cold, but the rest of me was sweating. I just layed there and cried until I fell asleep. For a few nights after that, I wished to myself that I would see him again in my dreams. Even though I know it probably wasn't really him, I just wanted to actually talk back this time. I still kick myself for never telling him how I truly felt. So now, when I like someone, I just tell them.

Incoherent Thoughts

It's been a while since I posted here. My internet has been all wacky, but I believe it is finally fixed.

Today I spent a while thinking about what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. What would I really enjoy? My dad wants me to make websites for a living because it's "good, easy money". First of all, it's not great money and it's definitely not easy. I don't enjoy making websites for other people. Sometimes I don't even enjoy making websites for myself. He also said I should write a book, but I find writing to be a real struggle lately. It's almost as if I forgot how to properly form my ideas/thoughts into coherent sentences or paragraphs.

I'm also thinking of changing the name of the distro to Zineplosion. I'm going to open a Zineplosion.net, and I want to make it a really big zine resource site. I thought it would be good to also sell zines on the site. But I want the distro to have the same name as the website. Ugh. I have a lot of decisions to make.

router goes bye bye

So it looks like our wireless router is shot. What this means is that I can use my desktop computer but not my laptop to go online. I probably wont be posting much here for a few days since I prefer typing on the laptop. Until then, adios.

On my friend April's LiveJournal, she posted "10 weird things/habits/little-known facts" about herself. It's supposed to be a chain thing, where she then tags other people to do the same in their own blogs. She tagged everyone on her friend's list, so I figured it would be something fun to do. I also tag all of you.

1. I have this gag reaction to the insides of peppers. Whenever my mom has to cut a pepper up, I leave the room. If I see it on a cooking show, I change the channel. Something about all those seeds in there - my skin crawls and my stomach turns at the thought. Green peppers are the worst.

2. I don't look at the clock that often, but when I do, the time is always 9:11pm or 11:11pm. I don't know how I manage to do that, but it's sort of freaky.

3. While I don't consider myself bisexual, I would totally have sex with the following women: Nicole Kidman, Kate Winslet, Salma Hayek, and...yes, I think that's it. But definitely Nicole Kidman. She is amazing.

4. I recorded a radio commercial for a MDA fundraiser when I was about 11 or 12. It was so weird - we were in a huge mall (Freehold, maybe?) and this guy was trapped in a cage. They had to raise a certain amount of money to let him out. So in the mall, with like, hundreds (or so it seemed) people around me, I had to say "Thanks for listening to 101.8 lite fm and supporting the MDA!" When they finally aired it, everyone clapped and I felt weird and embarrassed.

5. I really like snakes. For the longest time, I wanted one as a pet. Actually, I still do. Except you have to feed it mice and such.

6. Nancy Pelosi is my new rolemodel. She is sassy and fierce. She sat behind Bush in the State of the Union address with a "fuck you" look the entire time. Hot damn and hell yes.

7. My one nurse is a Jahova's Witness and I asked her to get me a free Bible. She did, and now I plan to read it just so I can get the Bible questions right on Jeopardy. Those questions always bothered me because...I don't know them.

8. One year for Christmas I asked for books, an encyclopedia, and an electronic dictionary. I think that makes me a dork. Especially the electronic dictionary part. But it is SO COOL - you can make word lists to memorize vocabulary!

9. I'm strangely addicted to changing my AIM avatar every day. Right now I have an image of Mary Pickford. Tomorrow? Who knows.

10. I'm a Rosie O'Donnell fan. Sure, she's not perfect - but I love how she's totally not apologetic about voicing her opinions. She's just like "Yo, fuck you, this is what I think."

Rebecca's Radio

My friend Rebecca does a radio show every Monday night from 8pm-10pm EST. You can listen to it online here: http://thecore.fm/

Anyway, I listened to it for the first time today and I thought it was pretty rad. When I was about 12 or 13, I used to call z100 with my friends and request silly Backstreet Boys or Mariah Carey songs and dedicate them to random people in my life. That radio station was even on my speed dial just in case, you know, I had the sudden urge to dedicate "My All" to Emily.

So, Rebecca posted that you could IM her and request songs. I went into nostalgia mode and sent her an IM, requesting "Where Does the Good Go?" by Tegan and Sara. To Jose, from Erin. Who is Jose? You will never know.

I got too excited and sent a message to my friend Brian, telling him to tune in and hear my song. It was like I was a preteen again.

I will definitely be tuning in next week. You should too.

Disability Rant #1

I always find myself wanting to write in this blog, but my life isn't really as interesting as people want to believe it is. Disabled doesn't always equal interesting. The interesting things that have happened in my life have actually not been centered around my disability. I know this may blow some people's minds, but I would actually consider my life to be typical and borderline boring. Sure, I enjoy my life and I'm grateful for the people I know and experiences I've had. But the notion that I could fill a 200-something page book with my thoughts on disability is just plain...ridiculous. Than again, I do publish a zine, and if I make enough issues...that may equal 200 pages. Whatever, the point is, I can't just sit in front of a computer screen and write a book about it. It annoys me to no end when certain people, who shall remain nameless, say "Erin, just write a book." Like it's something so simple. Why don't I also rebuild the Colosseum in my spare time?

I'm going to be a hypocrite now and write about some interesting experiences I've had that directly relate to my disability. Why am I bothering to do this? Because they are funny as hell. These stories will make you groan, shake your head, and wish for a meteorite to fall on the earth to end the existance of all life forms, but they will also make you laugh. At least, they crack me up.

All these episodes occured when my dearest friend Marjo was visiting from Finland this past summer.

On the second or third day she was here, we decided to go walk downtown. There's this cute store on the corner called The Front Porch. We go inside and proceed to look at all of the tchotchkes. I could see the store manager woman following me with her eyes, with that "so sweet" smile on her face. My fellow crips know exactly what I'm talking about. It's a pathetic look, but it occurs so often that, to preserve your own sanity, it must be ignored. So we're about to leave and go to the next store when the woman stops us and starts asking questions like how we were related, how is Finland's weather (which I'm sure Marjo was so sick of answering), where do I go to school, blah blah. I was just WAITING for the disability questions/comments to pop up as they usually do, and without fail, they surfaced. "Have you been disabled your entire life?" Yes. "How do you go to school?" Like everyone else. "Is it a special school?" No. "I know someone who is disabled. My nephew/cousin/son/husband/some random person has [insert disability that I can not hardly relate to]." My response is something like "Okay." Why the fuck do I care? But then she goes on to tell me this person is depressed and never leaves the house and I should really talk to him because I could inspire him with my fantastic outlook of life. At this point, I could tell Marjo was kind of getting annoyed. More annoyed than me, I'm sure, because I am so used to this and she is not. All this disability stuff is new to her. She knows it happens to me, but never experienced it first-hand. After basically brushing this woman off, we leave the shop. Marjo then proceeds to complain about how annoying that was. I agree.

The whole "I know someone who is disabled" is a common occurance for disabled people and their parents, friends, and carers. I can't tell you how many times someone has come up to me or whoever I'm with, and went into an entire speech about the disabled people in their life. Do they really think I care to hear about it? Why do they feel the need to tell me? What are they expecting me to do or say? My usual response is a craft I have perfected over the years; make sure the person understands you don't give two shits, but leave out the rudeness. Because if you're rude and say "I don't care", the person you are conversing with will think you are angry at the world. And then they will feel bad for you. And pity is the most awful thing.

Okay, so I guess that wasn't funny at all - perhaps you had to be there. But this next one is funny. It is, really.

There was a town-wide yard sale on one sunny afternoon. Marjo, my nurse Carol, and I went around town, buying things we will never use and don't really need. We get to this one house which is around the block from my own house. These women see us and, one again, I get the LOOK. They are not elderly, I guess in their mid to late 50s. I love how people don't realize that I'm Cuban, so those who speak Spanish talk about me and think I don't understand. Like the women at this house. "Ay, que linda!" "Pobrecita!" etc. etc. Basically, how cute, poor little thing, all those phrases I hate. You can only call me cute if you're my mother or some really hot guy. So, one woman gives me a bunch of stuff for free (being disabled and going to yardsales = SCORE!) and then says "I'm going to give these to your mother to carry." Who does she give the stuff to? MARJO. That's right, she thought my friend, who is the same age as me, was my mother. Now, I do look younger than I really am. But let's be drastic and say she thought I was 10. Marjo would have had me when she was 13. Marjo pretty much looks her age. I definitely do NOT look 10. I've been told 16. But....c'mon, people. We still joke about it. I called her MOM for a while.

I have other stories to share, but I think I'll save them for another time.

I am so bad.

This is the millionth blog I have created. But I swear, this time I will keep it updated and actually post some interesting stuff. I'm always jealous of all these smart and funny blogs I read, so I figured I'd give it another go.