I AM A GODDESS

i'm a fucking goddess, i'm the full package, kind talented, hot as hell, wacky, fun, loving, and this goddess can and does cook. i will care for you when you are sick or down, unlike the shallow arm candy "buy me flowers" "buy me diamonds" and leave you when you are are down "ladies" men like to chase. recognize a real woman and bow down before my glory, so i can raise you up!

(i got the inspiration to write this from a similar one my friend Toby wrote)

once

once i asked you what it was about me that made people do me wrong. So that i could try to change whatever this flaw was in myself so i could be a better person. You simply said, i was fine as i was, even paid me some compliments and apologized for making me feel "so rotten."
now i see that the answer is that i am just stupid. people treat me rotten because when it comes to others i am incredibly stupid and forgiving and always hoping for the best in them to shine through. i stupidly believed that your apology was the truth and that it meant you'd be different, not WORSE! you refer to yourself as a sheep in wolfs clothing, if this is true, you didn't need to be so cruel to me, you already knew i was harmless and kind and forgiving to a fault. no, you are no sheep. you are simply the wolf. and i am just a stupid stupid girl living in the wrong time. honesty and virtue are lost on the people of today and i end up becoming the butt of the joke. an experiment in how many times a dumb girl will take a man back if he just says "i'm sorry, i miss you."
you were never sorry, but boy were you one hell of a liar! you aught to go into acting for that show!

Does It Feel Good To Hurt The One Who Loves You?

I don’t understand how one person can care so little about how much they hurt another person.

I don’t understand the need for lying and creating excuses. Does it make them feel better about who they are? And if so, HOW?

How do you feel good, lying to me, telling me you miss me, telling me you want to see me when you know inside that you don’t? Why do they feel this need to lie? It has not just been one single person who has done this to me, it has been pretty much EVERY single man I have ever loved.

First they initiate an intimate relationship, I generally don’t initiate this, because I assume I will be rejected. Then when I show an interest things seem to progress in a normal manner. They seem to want to see more of me, and I say this would be something I would enjoy as well. Eventually this is followed up with a litany of excuses as to why we have suddenly begun to see much, much less of one another or none of each other at all.

When I express that this is upsetting, I am suddenly made to be the bad guy. Why am I the bad one, when I am not the one lying? I am not the one stringing anyone along, but I am made to feel as though I am acting irrational and that I am “flipping out” or “freaking out” or that I am a “negative person.”

Why on earth would anyone NOT be hurt by being lied to? Why would anyone not be disheartened by being told “I can’t wait to see you,” “I was thinking about you,” “I’m so sorry I’ve been so busy, I’ll make it up to you” and “I miss you,” only to see that you make time for everyone else but them? Clearly you DON’T miss them, you WEREN’T thinking of them, and you have NO intention of making it up to them.

So there must be some reason for this behavior. I have asked people why they have done this to me, after time had passed. What I got was, what seemed like a sincere apology and then the beginning of the same thing all over again. There must be something about me that causes people to take great personal pleasure in misleading me, and taking advantage of my love, and forgiveness.

It truly breaks my heart to be treated in such an unkind way by someone whom I would never have any desire to hurt in any way or misuse. Someone that I have only wanted to love, be kind to, and look out for. Someone that I have only wanted to share myself with in every possible way and bring them joy and comfort and always be in their corner.

But it seems I do not fit the mold they are looking for. I do not look the part I suppose. I am not all American Barbie pretty with long hair and stylish fashionable clothes. I am “wacky” as I have been told. My hair is oddly colored and generally retro styled I am well tattooed and my face is pierced and my ears are gauged. I don’t look pretty on their arm. They say they admire my mind and that I am clever and smart and a survivor and strong, they tell me they respect me, but then they do not want to be seen with me, to have their friends think I could be the woman in their life. They don’t even take the time to really give me a chance.

Why say you respect me? Clearly it is a lie. Why say you don’t want to hurt me, when you’ve never even tried to give me a fair chance?

I feel as though I am always set up as a cruel joke an experiment in dating a freak, and then I get left for the “normal,” “typical” girl and you all have a laugh at your wild ride with the freak. Not thinking about how much pain I feel inside.

Did it ever occur to any of you that I am probably the most caring giving unselfish person you will ever meet. I love completely and for who the person is. I understand what it means to love someone who is sick and care for them and NOT feel burdened. I take pleasure in caring for someone else and not thinking about what they can do for me, or what they can buy me or where they should take me.

But you choose to use me as a joke, so you can go off with your typical shallow “buy me diamonds, buy me flowers” girl and have her pretend to stroke your ego so she can get what she wants out of you. I truly give my compliments because I mean them not to butter anyone up.

I HATE being an honest loyal good woman, I hate being and looking different because all these things do is get me treated like garbage.

Happy Hanukkah (Chanukah, or however you'd like to spell it)

Yudeh the clumsy mohel

Always has a noisy bris

And if you ever hear it

You would have to say it is.

All the other mohelim

Used to laugh and call him names

They never let poor Yudah

Join in any dreidel games.

Then one foggy Chanukah

Shlomo came to say,

Yudah with your knife so bright

Won’t you cut the tip tonight.

Then all the other mohelim

Laughed and shouted out with glee

Yudah the clumsy mohel,

You’ll go down in Bris-tory

(by my dad, John Amira, i asked him to write me a Hanukkah rhyme)

depressing ass poetry crap

Sometimes my eyes wander and I cannot tell if there is anything worth seeing,

After all,

I’d have too much to invest, and too much to lose.

Sometimes I meet a gentleman, a real live one,

The kind that the holds doors and walks you safely to your destination

And I think: he wouldn’t do this if he knew I was broken, damaged goods would he?

Sometimes the gentlemen change one day, and tell you they’ve been laughing at you the entire time, and that you were always just a joke.

So,

I let the jerks be jerks, because they accept my being “impaired” (I mean really no one wants to START a relationship with a woman that can’t have kids and will need a new kidney),

I feel stuck I feel miserable.

No one pines after me,

I’m not that kind of girl. I’m no one’s dream. No one will ever dread the idea of not having me in their life, by their side.

So sometimes my eyes wander, but there is nothing to see.

what it means to be an artist

What it means to be an artist.
You suffer for your craft,
People think you are a bum and a loser, you work shitty jobs,
You paint portraits of your friends because they pity you so they model for you for free,
Women hate you, and find you weird and disgusting (if you are a women men assume you are a man hating lesbian and they hate you), you always have paint on your hands no matter how many times you wash them.
You spend all your free time drawing and doodling on everything, including important documents, you might not have money for food or rent but you’ll buy new art supplies because those are necessities
While enrolled in your University NONE of your professors like your style and they cannot understand why you are so awful when you were so good in all of your technical classes like anatomy and still life drawing. In fact your professors HATE you when they see your personal style.
You spent your entire childhood drawing and painting and all of your classmates taunted you for being weird because you DIDN’T draw the same silly cartoon characters from TV. because you were trying to figure out how to draw a person at three quarters view when you were seven years old and they were just tracing.
Being an artist means having carpel tunnel because you DON’T use the computer to render everything, you do this shit by hand the old fashioned way (yeah I went there!) and after years of doing this since age 1 until whenever, your thumb just doesn’t work right anymore, and your elbow’s always on fire.
Being an artist means you fucking suffer and maybe someone might think you are good and “discover” you and you’ll hit it big but for the most part, you will always be just scraping by hoping to make a sale or get a commission, while you work one crappy dead end job after another and contemplate ripping all of your hair out, (or chopping off an ear) because you are pretty sure you are going crazy and will die alone.

a poem i wrote some time ago

Maybe you're someone I just can't touch,

I observe you, secretly, picking apart our similarities,

All the while, thinking to myself that you are not even trying to see these things.

I watch you carefully, absorbing all I can in those all too short moments,

Deciphering the very things that will be my undoing

The very things that will force me to love you uncontrollably,

While you remain completely unaware of the person I really am inside

Never knowing all the beautiful small things we have in common,

Little tiny things, that no one would ever notice but me,

Little tiny things, that are the very core of my being.

I say nothing, so many times, because I know,

I know you will not even try to hear me, The subject gets changed and I wait

patiently, complying with your will,

All the while hoping you will one day be ready for me.

I have so much to offer you,

So many little tiny intricacies that would blow you away, and you would love me forever, I would ruin you for anyone else

But…I am so inarticulate; I cannot form the words with my lips.

And even if I could, I need to keep all these things inside of me, because when you ask me what I am thinking,

I know I will be too intense

And it's not what you want right now.

It's never what anyone wants.

I wish you would ask me the right questions, then I could know you were ready for me

Maybe you're someone I just can't touch,

But oh God you are so beautiful inside!

So I will wait patiently and see what will become of this.

i'm a sucker for a good writer.

I am a sucker for good writing. If someone consistently writes a clever witty article or blog I will probably fall in love with him, because of this. It’s happened before. I become enchanted by the way they form their sentences and I am mesmerized by how clever they are! Especially if the writing is humorous and semi sarcastic with a hint of sensitivity, or if it some really super scientific and brainy shit. Man oh man am I a sucker for that shit. And the thing of it is, I should have learned by now that this is a very BAD way to pick a potential mate. These people are using charm, but charm, is only a lure, like bright flashy colors on a poisonous animal. The last time this happened, I was so enchanted that I missed ALL the signs that the guy was a jerk, because I kept thinking I was dating the person in his wonderful stories, but that person was a fictitious character, and by the time I realized it I had made a complete fool of myself, seeing the good in him that was not there at all, what a waste of six months. But… I am sure I will continue to make this mistake because I do so love to read good writing and I just cannot help it.

veteran's day

So Veterans Day is fast approaching and, I need to plan how I would like to celebrate MY holiday.
I earned this day, by serving in our country's Army; I went overseas and even did a year in Iraq. Despite having served, jobs still seem to think it's ok to expect me to work on this day, even though I earned the right to have this day off, more than any other day off and more than any non-veteran has earned the right. I have taken the stand to NEVER work on this day ever again (as well as memorial day when I remember my fallen friends).
Last veteran's day I think I went to a museum or something fun and relaxing like that. The one before that I went to the Bronx botanical garden to see the Kiku exhibit with my brother. That was such great fun. We spent all day until it was dark and the garden closed.
This year, I think I will be going to the natural history museum. I have asked a few friends to join me and it should be quite enjoyable. One might wonder why I don't do anything more patriotic or "historic" on this day, but I could say the same thing about those who have forgotten entirely what this day was about, and live for it's sales!! I don't have to do anything patriotic on MY day, I already served, all I have to do is enjoy my day with the people I love and who love me.
I am sure my family will once again NOT wish me a happy veterans day, because they don't see the importance of remembering that I served or remembering that I actually earned this holiday and worked for it, instead many of them will surely be shopping and enjoying the sales that ride on the glory of so many others' efforts.
I will be with the people that actually care about me and what so many others and I have done.
If you know a veteran, remember to wish them a happy veteran's day, they earned it! If you know someone related to a veteran, pass the message on to their family member who sacrificed so much so you could enjoy the luxuries of veteran's day sales.
P.S. when memorial day roles back around, DON'T wish us a happy memorial day, the memorial is for remembering the dead, it's NOT a happy day for barbecues and crap like that.

The Shitty Handshake

The handshake is a very important aspect of a first impression. When meeting someone your "handshake should express that you're happy to meet the other person, rather than giving the impression that you are apathetic or that you want to dominate their hand," as stated by confident hand shaker, Adon Amira.There are several types of shitty handshakes that fail to convey happiness in meeting a new person.

1. The limp handshake

2. The over shaker

3. The medieval handshake (over the wrists)

4. The crusher

5. The limp over shaker

6. The crush over shaker

7. Fingertips only

These result in an awkward experience for the confident hand shaker. We go in for a single firm shake only to be met by one of these above listed failures.

1. Limp+confident= feeling as though you should be sorry for being happy and eager to make their acquaintance.

2. Over+confident=confusion as to why we are shaking hands for so long.

3. Medieval+confident=what the fuck just happened there? That guy shook my wrist!

4. Crusher+confident=I’ll just crush your hand back, didn't know it was a dominance contest

5. The limp over shaker+confident=sorry to hurt your hand but why won't you let go?

6.crusher over shaker+confident=crush war!

7. Fingertips+confident= what the fuck? I had no intention of kissing your hand if that's what

you thought!

One firm shake will suffice
thank you.

why don't people ask what they mean?

My father never asks what the real question is. He asks all these extra time wasting questions; questions that are designed to lead up to a miscommunication over something simple and direct.
Tonight, for example, as I am washing hair dye out of my hair, he asks me if I am going out. This is a vague question so I answer “no” as I assume he means if I am going somewhere to meet friends and am in the process of getting ready. I assume he is just making small talk. But OH NO, that is NOT what he means, because he follows it with “oh so you already walked “pup-pup” then?” “Pup-pup” is my dog’s nickname and no I had not walked her yet. Why didn’t he just ask me that?
“Well I wanted to know if you were in for the night,” he stated. WTF!? Those things have nothing to do with me walking the dog. If you wanted to know if you should lock the front door for the night then why didn’t you ask me if I had already walked the dog? Why all the extra time wasting, vague questioning? Then my dad wonders why every conversation with him leads to a misunderstanding/ miscommunication of some sort.
Sheesh.

my best friend

So, I met my best friend in September of 1994, freshman year of high school. We were in homeroom together, and as far as I can tell that was the only purpose homeroom actually served. Now we were not always best friends or even super close through out these years of knowing one another. We really didn't have any classes together and only saw one another during lunch and shared the same circle of friends. But there was something special about him. He was always an honest and sincere friend and in high school there isn't always a whole lot of honesty or sincerity when kids are trying to be popular or cool. College application rolled around and somehow I ended up with two application books to School of Visual Arts. As it turns out he ended up not having one and the idea of him not being able to apply to such a great school, with all his talent made me feel scared. I didn't want him to not go to the same school as me, and I think that was when I realized that this was a real friendship and not someone I would outgrow as I got farther and farther away from high school.
In SVA we had NOT a single class together and actually never even hang out but we did speak on the phone regularly. And after college I joined the army and he sent me post cards and emails while I was in Iraq. And my mother said he called her on occasion to see how I was. That is what a real friend does and though we were far apart I felt like these actions made us closer. When I eventually got out of the army and moved back to NYC began spending ALL my free time with him. Friendship takes work and distance and lack of free time is NOT an excuse to build a relationship with someone, but so many people seem to have excuses to give, instead of just a little of their hearts. I wish everyone could have a friend like mine and could be a friend like him, I hope I am as good a friend to him as he is to me.

day one

gee whiz
now i have a blog.
there are so many things i want to blog about.
food
art
crap i see in the shitty city i live in
places i've been!
places i'd like to go!
and random ass ideas i have
SHAZAAM!