I dare to dream

it seems that everytime i'm on here is to complain or feel pathetic and miserable. Kinda sucks...proves just how pathetic i am.
I'm just a fucked-up girl who's lookin' for my own peace of mind.

I hate this...
I wish i weren't so lonely
i wish i had a happier/busier life
i wish i had a decent guy tell me he's into me ... a guy that will put up with my bullshit without resenting me for it
I want a life.

iw ant to smile and really mean it
i want people to remember me when i'm not around...but i tend to be disposable..expendable. out of sight out of mind..that's me. Will always be me. Maybe it's my fault. Or...not maybe ..it is me. because it is nobody's fault that i'm stubborn, or that i lack genuine happiness, or that at times i'm fine and the next second i just feel sad and lonely and pathetic. I dont deserve love or happiness because since i was a young girl i always felt out of place, unwanted. So i got used to it. You can't hurt me if I dont let you in. So Why do i feel alone? Because I am. And I have only myself to tahnk. because its my fault. my self.
i wasnt destined for great things. and people tell me that i am. What liars. Or maybe they are just being sympathetic...who knows anymore...or who fucking cares?

Dear Body Fat,

I have always let you dictate what clothes I can feel comfortable in. I'm tired of baggy clothes. I have always let you tell me to second guess the way a person looks at me; I figure they can see a million flaws. All the bulges all the excess pounds.
You're also a threat to my health. My family is already prone to diabetes and heart disease, I should put up a fight and take a stand against them because life is too short as it is for me to go jeopardizing it in such awful manner.
I want to try on clothes and not feel discourage as I feel the struggle coming as I pull the clothes on. I want to look in the mirror and not have to check to see how my stomach looks or how ugly my arms are. I want to put on jeans that show off my ass and legs without feeling like I have a gut to hide. I don't want to feel like crap because of my appearance. I don't want you to tell me I can't wear a nice dress because it doesn't fit right. My body is so dis-proportioned that I can't find bras that work with me, I can't wear cute shirts because my arms are too fat or my boobs are to small to be shopping in the 'plus size' section. I'm DONE with feeling hopeless when I get into a dressing room.
It's over. These years have been horrible. And it has to end. I'm going to drop you! I'm going to have to make this change. Because it's in my benefit.
I have said this before, but I'm going to do my best to make this work. This has to end. I'm battling this bulge, and I hope to conquer it.

Hate You,
Blanca

I'm really going to do this. It can't be that hard...i just need will power. Smarter eating choices, exercise. More water less sugar. let's start easy: no soft drinks, more water. 45 minutes of walking daily. not hard right?

Hmm...I've been insulted in regards to my attitude, my appearance and even my ethnicity. But the worst insult has had to have been one by my best friend. He took everything I felt insecure about and I know I need to work on and he used it to hurt me by shoving them in my face. It felt horrible. The fact that made the insults so horrible is that it was coming from a close friend. Did I forgive him? Eventually...but it took a REALLY long time.

I've been going back and forth. Galant. Accord. Galant. Accord.
It's non-stop.
I see the gas mileage and pricing for the Accord and they look better than the Galant. The Accord looks nicer too.
So why am I leaning towards the Galant.
I'm trying to replace my car. That's why.
But even the new Galant, whether I ask to have the same things as my current car, will never be my current car.
My car has been my car. My sanctuary. My friend.
It's weird, my family doesn't understand why I love my car so much. It's just a machine to them. But I love my car. I do. It's like a person to me. When I needed a private place to make calls or just talk a problem out loud to myself, I drove in my car. If I felt angry or heartbroken and just wanted to speed bumping up my music, I did it in my car.
My car has never let me down. Even when the radiator overheated it managed to get me to my house before it died on me. Which is a good thing, cause I wouldn't have known what was wrong if it weren't for my father.
It runs great! Man, it can speed without complaints.
My car took me to school. To friends homes. On 'errands'. Anywhere to let me get away from a home that can suffocate you. It was my getaway.
My car. My loyal car.
So why get rid of it? It has to be done. If I want to make it worth something as a trade-in. Who wants a '97 Galant with 157K miles on it?
I wish I could keep it forever. Unfortunately, cars are not forever.
We had a good run, My car and I.
Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. Maybe I decide not to buy. But I can't go alone. I don't know much about cars or negotiating. What's a good deal? I don't know.
But the thing is. Although I'm getting a new car, I am in no way replacing my car. My Galant has been my loyal friend. Through thick and thin. Our bond. My first car, which became my sanctuary. You can't replace that. Sure my new car and I will bond. I'll love it and care for it. But...you never forget your first.

The guy I had a crush on was on the phone with me the other day and my brother called me a "Nina Fresa" which is a joke within the family.
The guy heard and said, "I knew I was right, you are a nina popis" which isn't what my brother called me. And he started talking like one of those girls...which would be the equivalent of one of those girls that would say "Like, ew"
He basically called me a rich, stuck up, spoiled daddy's little girl. Which was...insulting! He went on to pretend he was asking me on a date and how I would decline cause I didn't want to go to such a public ghetto place as a movie theater because other people have sat in those crusty old chairs, and "Hello, I don't eat peasant food like popcorn. Like, what is wrong with you? Check yourself before you try asking me out." He said he was joking but I didn't find it funny at all.
Then later that night I asked him if he really thought I was like that, and he said, "Yes. You do come off that way."
Well...sorry if I don't want to work at a fast food restaurant, if my hair needs a certain type of shampoo, if I complain when things don't go according to plan, that I bugged my parents for a car, and that I went to Paris, and that I'm proud that I graduated from a university, that I hate the humidity in Texas. Ugh...
Like just because I told him I cut my hair he was like "Well, of course you'd need a new look to match your stuck up attitude." I tried defending myself, saying the weather is unbearable out here and long dark hair really isn't a smart idea for the summer and he mocks me by saying, "Oh, summer is like, totally unbearable, I mean eww, imagine me with a sweaty neck, that's gross, only field workers should sweat like that." I just hung up on him. I wasn't going to take that. He doesn't know shit about my upbringing, and he was like "You worked for your dad and I bet you just sat in the office because it felt good ordering people around."
ARGHHHH!
It pissed me off.
Yes, I do consider myself too good to work at a fast food restaurant. Yes, I believe I was smart in getting my education. Yes, I told him I don't like dating guys who didn't go to college (not because they're dumb or anything, but imagine living with a person whose education level doesn't match yours, talk about missing out on intellectual stimulation). Yes, I don't have a job and didn't have to drop out of high school to get a job. Yes, I do feel uncomfortable when I hang out with a certain type of mexicans(particularly the ones who came to the US after being raised in Mexico), but not because I feel superior to them, but because they write me off as stuck up just because I don't dress like them or talk like them. (My spanish is great but I lack that accent that marks me as a Mexican born in mexico).
But that doesn't make me stuck up, or spoiled, or RICH!
Yes I live in a two story house and I don't work. I never made a car payment in my life...but that doesn't make me rich! My parents worked their ass off to provide us with those privileges and God can strike me down RIGHT now if I ever took that for granted!
I can cook, I can clean, I could get down and dirty if I need to, but I don't HAVE to and it shouldn't be held against me. I am respectful and everything I've gotten I've earned, should it be through hard work and dedication, or by sucking up my pride and anger and taking a verbal beating from a loved one. I've done my part to help this family, and it is not in the usual way like getting a job and handing over my paycheck (Which i did when I was working).
He had me doubting myself, like I was everything he thought I was, but he doesn't know jack shit. He doesn't know my struggles, my family's struggle, and he sure as hell doesn't know what keeps me up at night. I am mad at him, I told him so and I'm not going to let this one go, I let a lot of crap be thrown in my face and then I pretend it didn't happen/bother me. But this one...it struck a nerve. It really annoyed me, the whole weekend it nagged me. Ugh...
There is a difference between being stuck up and knowing your self worth!

OKAY...here we go. this will be posted everywhere! COLTS! COLTS! GO COLTS! Peyton Manning better school Mark Sanchez!!!

I know i haven't updated a real entry in a while but I'll get around to it.

AHHHH! Colts! Colts!

Earlier this year, I went to the doctor. It was...March I believe. I stepped on the scale and the number climbed all the way to 242 pounds. I don't know if that was bigger than what I was before I left to France. Truth is, I haven't weighed myself in years. I didn't want to see how big that number was.
242 is a horrible number. I'm 5'4" and 242 is far from the ideal weight.
So I changed my eating habits. i cut out red meat, limited my in take of chicken. Fried foods were gone, no soda...
I went out on 1.5mile walks. The hills on this damn neighborhood get the heart going. By July I weighed 221lbs.
I'm now down to 215 but I have been watching my food portions,and unfortunately I haven't been going out for my walks because my chest pain really made me feel lazy as heck! But I'm going to jump back on that horse!
My goal is to bring it to 199 by the new year. I can do it. I know I can.
But it's not just about weight, I have to get healthier. I'm on a multi-vitamin now (doctor's orders) and trying to cut my diary intake...limbo between going vegan, but I love meat too much. I'm upping the veggies intake.
I'm so wanting to get this taken care of.
When I had my chest pain, I thought it was related to my heart. And it was a wake up call. I don't want to get sick because of stupid eating habits. That fear ... I'll use it to make myself healthy! I could already feel the change in my menstrual cycle...the cramps aren't as killer.

But this is something that I can't wait to do. I have to do this for myself, my health. Besides, it felt good to see that number on the scale. I was at 180 in high school. I want to be smaller than that. My goal: 130lbs.

There I put it out there. And I am always motivated by setting goals and aiming to achieve them. So, it's all about will power.

I can do this.

My sister's friend is coming to visit her. He also visited her last summer....
just makes me feel a bit jealous and mad because none of my friends haven't made an effort or in the least mentioned that they would visit.
...
I know they might have their reasons and not everything turns out like you want it to, but I'm being selfish right now. I'm entitled to selfish moments, aren't I? of course I am.

I'm SUPER homesick for my brothers! :(

I really really HATE not being around for Maria's pregnancy! :(

I'm just wondering who fears death. And why.

I think I fear it because I don't think I'm a nice person. I don't think I deserve heaven. So if I die, I'm going to hell. I'm scared of hell. So that must be why I'm scared of death.

But it makes me sad to think that we have no say once you're gone. Whatever is supposed to happen to you will happen and you have no way of making it change.

I just know one thing, I want to turn my life around. I want to be a better person. I want to find/mend my relationship with God. I want to find that faith that I have lost and make it stronger than before.

But I wonder if I want all that for the wrong reasons. Because I'm afraid of hell so I want to kiss God's ass so he'll let me into heaven.

That's some brutal honesty...

But it doesn't mean I won't try it. I need to find my way back to God. I want to be a better catholic, a better person. I want to not fear death, not because I fear hell but because I want to feel that I made my life here the best it could be by playing the rules.

I don't know how to actively fix your faith...I just hope I do so.

I've perhaps doubted my believing in God for a while...and I may not be an avid church go-er and I don't quote from the Bible...I have TONS of questions about certain things the bible says but I haven't considered converting to another religion. It would be weird....I think, i mean 23 almost 24 years of being a Catholic, I'd feel like betraying a major/important part of my life.
With that being said, I do very much like to learn about other religions and cultures/traditions. :) a complete sucker for awareness/enlightenment.
....and is that a contradiction...i mean many of the enlightened/scholars do no believe in religion...*shrug*