Changes Come with Kindness

It has always been my passion to spread love and kindness in this world. I have had a tendency to be too nice, but have never found a reason to cease being kind. When my resources were more abundant, I was always willing to volunteer and help people out whenever I can. Now I'm the one needing the help. I've been in between jobs for quite awhile, driving for Uber and interviewing into the abyss of nothing, and need some stable grounding in my life. As one of my favorite quotes goes, "in order to receive much, you must give much." Karma began coming back in my direction when I needed it most.

From October 2017 until now, a new chapter of my life is being created.

At the time, I was living with two of my dearest friends. When my life started taking a sharp downhill turn, since I sometimes use Facebook as my public diary (only disclosing the basic whereabouts of course), the general population knew something was up in my life. I am a member of a number of nerd communities and one of them, being called the "Belegarth Medieval Combat Society" was the beginning of the outpour of love towards me. About 4 times a year for the last almost 5 years now, I've been able to hit every single major camping trip in Illinois. I was struggling with finances at the time and my checking account was badly overdrawn. My friend Nigel offered to give me a ride and hook me up with all the resources I'd need to have a successful camping trip and decided to go to the event 2 days prior. I returned from my camping trip fresh and ready to try finding a job some more.

At the end of November, one of the places I had located on a "job hunt tour", meaning driving around looking for places nearby my apartment that had "now hiring" signs outside and going inside and applying, randomly called me back and asked me to come in with 3 hours notice. Me being desperate for a job decided to accept said job as a server at a restaurant called Leona's. I walked into Leona's with my head held up high ready to be the best server ever and was ready to start training. Since I usually connect with males more, there was one male server named Chris. We talked whenever we were on shift together and one day in casual conversation, he told me, "if you ever need any "partying goods", let me know". One day, I hit him up, and he wanted me to grab the goodies from his girlfriend, Iris, who also worked at the restaurant. This ended up happening several times, including after I quit the restaurant.

Fast forward to January 2018, one of the days when I went over to Iris's apartment, she mentioned there being a vacancy in her apartment that would be cheaper rent than what I'm paying right now. Two days later, the people I was living with before and me had "the talk", but I was so out of it I had no idea what happened. Four days later, I decided to meet with the rest of the people living there to see if this would be a worthwhile move for me. After we met, I went to go pick up one of the current at the time roomies from work and I told him what I did when we were discussing how our day was. We then talked again and the information from "the talk" was clarified to me while being more in tune.

In an instant, I found out my living situation of two and a third years was changing. I was scared to death, especially because my mental health was failing and I didn't want any new people to see it.

Iris and Chris welcomed me into their lives with open arms and even helped me move. Special thanks to Iris to helping set up the place and making it feel like home for me... and for doing most of the cleaning. I promise I'll help more, don't worry!

Not only did my living situation change, but also in January 2018, I sought help to better my mental health. I also began picking up my hobbies that were lost to lifeing and trying to get my act together. One day while randomly scrolling through Facebook, in one of the other communities I'm in involved in, a "flow art", also known as a style of dance using an LED light prop, called "orbiting" with the prop being called an orbit, someone posted asking for some pointers on "glorbiting", which is using LED light gloves and an LED light orbit together in one act. I decided to comment on the post with my two cents and the original poster messaged me. For whatever reason, we hit it off pretty quickly, even though I was scared to warm up to new people at the time. This lovely fellow named Joey felt like the first real friend I've ever had even though I'm over here in Chicago and he lives in bufu North Carolina. A lot of the times we would talk, it would be about flow arts and orbiting. More of the times we would talk, I would message him at xyz late at night or early in the morning telling him I'm pulling an allnighter driving for Uber while completely losing my mind. Many of these same messages and talks later, I didn't expect anyone to be there for me in this super low state of mind. Each time, aside from talking me down, he would tell me to quit driving for Uber. He would also tell me how much he cared about me and how he was sick of seeing me hurt myself. Two months and hours and hours of phone calls and texts later, not only have my flow art skills increased, but I finally escaped the wrath of Uber after twenty six and a half months. Not only that, but he's saved me in money emergencies and gifted me this super snazzy prop for my recent birthday. He also gifted me with the quote, "if you don't like this world, create a new one!" And with this prop, I will express the newfound confidence and new life I have gained in the past several months. Through all of the changes and adventures, this show is dedicated to spreading love and light and thanking those who have been there for me recently and showering me with unexpected kindness when I needed it most. This is what I have to give back to you! Enjoy!

*insert light show here*

Top 3 Most Interesting Gigs I've Had Through 8-24-17

Since Joni Mitchell was a lady of many gigs, as am I, here are the top 3 most interesting gigs I’ve had over the course of this last year and a half:


1. I have been in between jobs for the better part of time since February 2016 and have been living the gig life. This first brief gig entailed me selling Hello Fresh products aka meal kit delivery services similar to Blue Apron. How would you feel if you were randomly out on the street in the city and asked if you liked to cook by some stranger in an apron... when there was bad weather outside? Imagine being the stranger in the apron standing outside in the cold trying to play the hustle game? That's what I did for just under 3 weeks. When I walked in the door for this “job of a lifetime”, it felt like I was told, “welcome to your commission-only job, where the name of the game was, "have fun and make money". After arriving at 17 N. State Street in the morning, I walked into this standing-only room into a meeting called "atmosphere", where we would go over the pitch and do some training in the morning before going out into the field. I had a mentor who would work in atmosphere meetings with me to teach me the pitch. It took me awhile to learn the pitch, but after several days, I eventually got it down. Everyone was super helpful and kind to me the entire time, which was nice. After atmosphere meetings, someone would come to the front of the room for an "impact" meeting, which was a lesson on how to sell shit. Sometimes, there would also be conference calls with the top representatives in the US, which also explained to us how to sell shit. The field was a very rough and cutthroat place. It looked all smiley and dancey and like you have pep in your step, but it was getting cold since it was around November and the field was outside on the street you and your group were assigned to. Each day in the field on average I managed to make 1 sale a day. Some days I made 0 and one day I made 3, which is called “ringing the bell”; the next day at work, you’d get announced before going out to the field in “noise”, which is honoring the people who made 3 or more sales in a day. My dear roommate friends noticed how unhappy I was when I would walk in the door and would often pass out on the couch; I had also been eating out a lot and unable to work out as much as necessary. When it was time for my appointment with my therapist, he told me to get the hell out of there; that was a sign. After spending two and a half weeks at this place, I told the commission-only job I was done. I needed to make more than $150 dollars in a week period. No, this "experience" is not going on my resume. While I am now looking for a new full-time job that won't mysteriously end 2 weeks after my start date and driving for Uber/Lyft in the meantime, this gig of mine has told me I am a lot more worthy than asking random strangers on the street if they like to cook!

2. One of the places I’ve had some decent luck finding gigs is on Craigslist. I randomly found an ad saying they needed people to wear costumes by Wiener’s Circle in less than 24 hours for decent pay. I decided to contact the poster, not expecting a reply, and received a reply to my surprise. The person told me they wanted to call me via Skype at 5:30pm that day. I also had a performance at 6pm that night I had to get to and it was a 15 minute drive. I jump on the Skype call, find out I got the gig, and rushed over to my performance. I found out the gig was to wear a hot dog costume in front of Wiener’s Circle to advertise for a minor league baseball team… from 6:30am to 10:30am in the morning. RIP! I’m not used to being up that early in the morning, but decided to do it anyways for the money’s sake. When I arrive at the Wiener’s Circle at super early in the morning, I was given my hot dog costume and left to stand around for a little bit. Since it’s super early and there was a DJ at this event, he decided to play the Cupid Shuffle and the Cha Cha Slide. So here I was, dancing around in a hot dog suit at early o’clock in the morning with a bunch of other people in hot dog costumes. As the morning progressed, a bunch of news stations came to record us holding signs for the Chicago Dogs minor league baseball team and waving. They also recorded us playing wiffle ball in these costumes. A bunch of standing around happened in between all of the madness. When I eventually checked my phone, a bunch of people, including my roommate friends, said they saw me on TV. I had always wanted to be on TV and finally got the opportunity to!

3. I also got to be on TV a second time in the same week! This time, it was a bit more of a surprise! I had applied to another freelance gig on Craigslist and ended up getting a call back. I trek to Michigan Avenue for an interview and get a call a few days later saying I got a gig. The gig was at 1:45am to do what I thought was to “help set up for an event” at the Garfield Park Conservatory. When I arrive at the conservatory, I get there and see some snacks and coffee, balloons, and plastic silverware. After having some coffee and noms, I was instructed to help roll up silverware. After rolling up silverware for awhile and talking to the other people in the room because we were all artists, the man in charge of the gig told me to come outside into the hallway and put a vest on in order for the security guards to know I was allowed into the conservatory. I’m then greeted by a man named Mike who claims he’s worked with plants for a long time. He tells me to water these pods for awhile while we’re having a general conversation. While I’m watering the pods, Mike pulls out a “forbidden plant” from his bag that was one of his coworker’s babies, but he got fired for it because he wasn’t allowed to have this Cuban accelerator plant at the conservatory. Mike then touched his orange to the plant and the plant began multiplying in size and sprouting a fruit the size of an orange in it. He throws the plant back in his bag and steps outside to call his manager. His manager doesn’t answer because there’s no signal. Meanwhile I’m still remaining super chill and not having much of a reaction to anything because I don’t get scared easily. He then takes the plant back out of his bag to notice it’s multiplied even more in size and began taking human form. It was sprouting a face, eyes, nose, and even looking and blinking at me. I thought it was some kind of magic trick or illusion. He proceeded to tell me the plant was morphing due to the “Carbonaro Effect” and I’m like “whaaaaaa???” And then he tells me the Carbonaro Effect is a TV show and I’ve been pranked. I was like, “cool, I’ve always wanted to be on TV”. We both start laughing, he walked me out of the room into another room where I signed some waivers and showed my ID, was given $100 bucks for an hour and 45 minutes of my time, told I'd air in September or fall time, and escorted to my car. Someday I will be famous and now is my time to shine!

Do You Like To Cook?

"Do you like to cook? No? Have a nice day!"

"Hello m'am. Quick question. Do you like to cook? No? Have a nice day!"

"Hello sir. Quick question. Do you like to cook? No? Have a nice day!"

How would you feel if you were randomly out on the street in the city and asked if you liked to cook by some stranger in an apron... when it was snowing? Imagine being the stranger in the apron standing outside in the cold trying to play the hustle game? That's what I did for just under 3 weeks.

Welcome to my commission-only job, where the name of the game was, "have fun and make money".

I had been looking for a job and had finally landed a second round interview again, which I decided to go to. I get to the second interview and find myself talking to a young man named Nate and answering questions about marketing and sales all while standing outside. Thankfully, this was all before it became super freezing outside. After a strenuous six hours of doing that, Nate walked me inside. I ended up having to answer a questionnaire and talk to a man named Ryan to convince him I have drive and am a motivated person. I was offered the job on the spot and told to come in tomorrow.

Tomorrow happened and I was just snake-in-the-grassed into this role of a lifetime... or so I thought. Part of me was skeptical the entire time. My friends were also throwing me red flags right away due to the nature of the interview and telling me not to go into work. Something was up, and I needed to figure out why red flags were being thrown so early on. I went into work anyways.

After arriving at 17 N. State Street in the morning, I walked into this standing-only room into a meeting called "atmosphere", where we would go over the pitch and do some training in the morning before going out into the field. Nate ended up becoming my mentor and would work in atmosphere meetings with me to teach me the pitch. It took me awhile to learn the pitch, but after several days, I eventually got it down. Everyone was super helpful and kind to me the entire time, which was nice. After atmosphere meetings, someone would come to the front of the room for an "impact" meeting, which was a lesson on how to sell shit. Sometimes, there would also be conference calls with the top representatives in the US, which also explained to us how to sell shit.

We sold "Blue Apron"-like products, which were meal kits with pre packaged and pre measured ingredients so all you had to do was chop veggies and cook everything. It would take 20-30 minutes to cook the food.  The field was where we would be standing outside soliciting strangers trying to sell shit. I knew I had a hustler mentality and something inside of me was convincing me not to bail right away.

The workday was normally supposed to be from 9:45am until 6pm and if you didn’t make 3 sales you were to stay until 7, but no later. The training was from 9:45am until 11am, which you wouldn’t get paid for. The rest of the day, it was floating in the field trying to move it or lose it. 

The field was a very rough and cutthroat place. It looked all smiley and dancey and like you have pep in your step, but it was getting cold since it was around November and the field was outside on the street you and your group were assigned to. There were even points where I had to stand outside by myself and start pitching to strangers. Yes, you had to pitch to strangers! You would continuously ask every last person if they liked to cook and they would mostly give you some form of “no” while you would tell them to have a nice day and move on. Some days it was nice and warm and I didn’t need to look like an eskimo. Other days I wasn’t so lucky. Some days I would be pain free. Others I would be reaching into my bag for Advil praying the day would end. Some days I would be nice and awake. The rest of the time I would be having brain farts, mind blanks, and my mentor would see how dead I am and make a secret stop to the nearest Dunkin Donuts in order for me to be able to function during the day. Thanks Nate!

Each day in the field on average I managed to make 1 sale a day. Some days I made 0 and one day I made 3, which is called “ringing the bell”; the next day at work, you’d get announced before going out to the field in “noise”, which is honoring the people who made 3 or more sales in a day. 

After the field, you would go inside and break down your day to see if you hit your “goals” and go over what you did well and what can be improved upon. After a crazy long day plus a 45 minute commute each way, I was dead tired once I got home.

My dear roommate friends also noticed how unhappy I was when I would walk in the door and would often pass out on the couch; I had also been eating out a lot and unable to work out as much as necessary. When it was time for my appointment with my therapist, he told me to get the hell out of there; that was a sign.

After spending two and a half weeks at this place, I told the commission-only job I was done. I needed to make more than $150 dollars in a week period. No, this "experience" is not going on my resume. While I am now looking for a new full-time job that won't mysteriously end 2 weeks after my start date and driving for Uber/Lyft in the meantime, this gig of mine has told me I am a lot more worthy than asking random strangers on the street if they like to cook!

Where is Success When You Can't See It? Life as a Twenty Something

Ranting, the verbal activity I seem to do the best at… but it sometimes annoys my friends, so I generally keep it to myself.

A common theme that comes up in my life is how to find yourself as a twenty something and function as an “independent” adult. Something you unfortunately need to do as an adult is pay bills. I left college with almost zero knowledge of money management, a skill I wish was taught in a remedial college course.

When I graduated from college, I thought I wanted to be a Web Developer, get a job, stay there forever, move up in the ladder, and go from there. Not so long after I started my job, I was certain I was a bit too free spirited for Corporate America and needed to be in a place where I’m able to create. I did everything in my power to keep the job alive, but my will caved and I decided to jump out the window, with my parachute in tact, thankfully knowing where the ground was. I knew I was going to get screwed over at my job and marked on my calendar the day I knew would be the end of the road. Leading up to that day, I did everything in my power to get a new job. With no luck, one of my dear friends I live with told me my car would pass an Uber inspection and criteria and should become a driver. As reluctant as I was to do so, I did my research, gave it a test run, and felt decent. A few days before my “doomsday”, I knew being a driver and a free bird were in my fate, and handed my manager a 2 weeks notice letter.

Fast forward 8 months of being an Uber Driver and I am officially ready to throw stones and look for something else. The first thing is I feel like is slavery still exists. I don’t mean the stuff you saw 100 years ago; it’s more under the table. People are so damn greedy; the head honchos only want money and productivity. If you’re not wringing everything out of yourself and not making enough money, you’re not doing well enough, was a major theme of my last job, and even ridesharing. For starters, I have to pay for my own gas and repairs, as well as they take 25% of my fares right off the bat as a “commission” to them for using their service. Lately, I’ve had days where I’ve made as little as $7.50 per hour, which is less than the legal Chicago minimum wage. Thankfully, that’s pretty rare, but I’d drive overnight, drive myself into not sleeping, drive myself into depression and isolation, and drive my knees and energy down the toilet. I’d be out as many as 29 hours at a time, just to make sure I “make it” to my next bill payment and have a little extra for groceries. I have to wear a knee brace while driving because with my car, you have to push harder on the gas pedal; lately, my other knee has been starting to give me trouble too. I have barely been able to see my friends lately, including the ones I live with (it’s been a bit more under control now though). Those I am close with, I would bombard them with texts of how tired I was, how shitty I felt, or some sort of stress or anxiety-related thing was bothering me. Thanks for bearing with me, guys! I’ve had to decrease my attendance at open mic nites, karate classes, my “nerd” group called, “Belegarth”, everything, just to pay my bills and get by. I even created an “emergency fund” when I knew I was forsure going to leave my job, which I recently exhausted all of it.

But here I am. I am still willing to search for a better opportunity for myself, still willing to drive and do what it takes to make money (and still paying all my bills on time), and I am even here today. For that, I am successful!

The Option Was Clear: You Are Worthy of Not Comparing Yourself to Others

The option was clear that it is time to be a free, independent woman. Free of ties holding me down, free of a career with no destiny, and the freedom to express myself as I please.

I’ve written several stories, poems, motivational whatnots, and then some, about not doubting myself, but I’ve had a bunch of trouble implementing them due to some past misadventures and traumatic situations, but what I’ve learned through my more recent endeavors is how success isn’t some magical destination point you pick on a map. Success isn’t sitting in a high-paying job ready to bang your head against the wall thinking you’re going nowhere. Success also isn’t having a picket fence lifestyle with prince charming and a bagillion dollars, though both of those would be nice.

Lately, Facebook has liked to inform me how this person had a baby and that person got engaged. I even just found out my twin sister is moving in with her boyfriend. Meanwhile, I’m single as fuck and proud. I’m still in my young mid 20’s and I’m not ready to settle down yet. I may not have a sleep schedule either… I can drive for Uber at “buttfuck o’clock” in the morning and no one to scorn me for being gone. I can attend an open mic nite or performance without someone wondering why I’m not spending 24/7 with them while I have a job and a life. I especially don’t have someone telling me indirectly it’s not ok to go camping with my friends, go to my karate classes, or how I’m never a good enough partner. That was basically the dynamic of my last relationship with “Voldemort” for 10.5 months. Once the relationship was over, I questioned my worth, which was already in question in my head due to many “not so good” relationships with my blood family. When faced with traumatic adversity, you have to condition your brain to see light to tell yourself “you are good enough”. For me, in order to attain as positive of an outlook towards myself as I can, I make sure to surround myself by people who will still be there for me, even when I feel like absolute poopie, and look for every opportunity possible to better myself. On August 13, 2016, I participated in a local talent show in Humboldt Park, Chicago, as a flow artist (“dancer”) and won first place in the adult division. My prize of loveliness was 2 tickets to a Steppenwolf Theater show and 2 tickets to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in super good seats. After I found out I won, I was in disbelief, but told myself I’m worthy of accomplishments and winning talent shows. I am also worthy of my own creative creations of my own unique style being “good enough”. I’m still not quite in the mood to start dating again, but that’s ok, I can take 1 roommate friend as my date to the play and the other roommate friend as my date to the orchestra, both very attractive gay men! Problem solved! I’d rather be single than in a relationship that’s pulling me down. I will keep doing my best to ignore people’s Facebook bragging. I also need to tell myself I’m worthy of meeting a “real man”, as well as I am worthy of having real friends.

In the adventures of the recent college graduate and “adulting”, what else is important besides friends and relationships? My career. I’ve also told this story 18,000 times, but long story short, I got a nice shiny job right out of school as a Web Developer using my degree, I had bad manager syndrome and didn’t fit into the company, wasn’t around any peers, and was riding the fail train since day 1. I was on 2 separate teams, where the second team’s ship sank faster for me. It reached a point where it was either jump out the window with a parachute or be caught in the fire. I of course chose the parachute; on January 29, 2016, I walked into corporate desk job land for the last time. Now, I’m free from walking into work with the weight of the failure on my shoulders and happily serving as “Your Friendly Neighborhood Uber Driver” with a side of freelance gigs and however else I can scrape money. Now, I’m trying to figure out what to do next. At least for now, I’m still making money and able to pay my bills. I may have failed miserably at my job and had 0 success with what my job description told me to do, but I was able to take soft skill training classes, learn how businesses work, and get to attend an 800 dollar transformational leadership weekend seminar I didn’t have to pay for. There’s always something positive, even in the worst of situations.

SInce it’s Olympics o’clock, I sometimes watch the games with the roommate friends, as well as see results, motivational quotes, and more all over the interwebs. Especially with being an identical twin, I inadvertently catch myself comparing myself to others. I see people all over my Facebook news feed and these olympic athletes realizing their dreams. One of my biggest dreams is for content on one of my websites, blogs, or Youtube videos to go viral, thus, I would be a star. However, since stardom in any sort is incredibly difficult to attain, I need to be proud of myself for smaller milestones leading up to the ultimate goal. While driving for Uber, a lot of people ask me if I have other jobs/endeavors I’m pursuing in the meantime. I tell them about my dreams to go viral, my performance endeavors, my freelance gigs, and my uncertainty of continuing to pursue the field I studied in school. A lot of my passengers provide me with reassurance (as well as my dearest friends) of my personal goodness, which motivates me not to give up through adversity. I’ve received compliments on my quirkiness, which I sometimes fear is “too much” for others to handle as well.

I have to keep telling myself I’m worthy of accomplishments, having real friends, and having my creativity be worth something. Sometimes, I have to bash it through my head 8 million times to tell myself “I am good enough”. As long as I continue to shower myself and surround myself with positivity and not give up, the goal line will be able to be attained!

Making Your Mark in Light Trails

In the beginning of 2014, one of my friends told me how he did this thing called “gloving” at raves. As fascinated as I was by this concept he described to me, about a month later, I attended an anime convention, ACEN, and saw vendors selling these light up LED gloves and bought a pair for 20 dollars. Shortly after ACEN, I began experimenting with this “gloving” thing, dancing aimlessly in my room, looking in the mirror, and trying to move my hands around to make cool light trails. This lasted for about a year or so, until my same friend told me about a company that sold better quality gloves, emazinglights.com. About 40 dollars later, I was the proud owner of my first real pair of gloves.

One of my biggest dreams is to have one of my products (blogs, websites, or youtube channel) go viral. I had a golden idea to one day record myself dancing around with my gloves to the song “Decisions” by “Bogore”, an electronic dance music artist, while wearing my karate uniform. A couple months later, while bored at my last job in a grey box, I was randomly curious if there was a community in Chicago for this type of thing. Surely enough, it didn’t take long to find one thanks to Facebook. I watched some youtube videos to get a better idea of what this “gloving” thing was; it required intricate hand, arm, and finger movements in specific patterns. In the youtube videos I watched, I noticed people were only showing their performances from the waist up, but something about that didn’t feel right; my creative mind told me to use my whole body with the gloves as the star. The more I watched youtube videos and tutorials, the more I noticed top glovers using their entire bodies in shows. A video that stood out to me, which I watched while bored at work, was a video of a very attractive man in a dance studio with this thing called an orbit. Looking at that video, I instantly gravitated towards the orbit and bought one from Emazinglights.

Me and dancing have had an interesting relationship over the years. I only took dance lessons when I was 4 and quit basically right away, but for some reason, at ages 8 and 9 when I went to theater camp, I was assigned more dance intensive roles instead of lines and singing. A year after that, my martial arts career began. Whenever I’d go to bar and bat mitzvahs and there would be dance offs as a teenager, I’d often win. During college, my sorority participated in a philanthropy dance contest as a group, which I did every year I was in the sorority. Unfortunately, when a “certain someone” made fun of me for dancing, my confidence went down the toilet… until I decided to invent my own style of dance with the help of youtube tutorials. I also saw a video where someone used their gloves and orbit together and adopted the idea into my dance routines. Once I became comfortable enough, I began trying to see if I can take this to the stage. Luckily, a group named “Dramageddon” accepted one of my videos as an audition and I got to perform with them 3 times. I am still looking for more opportunities!

I also like to perform in local “Got Talent” shows, as it is another dream of mine to be on America’s Got Talent. I’ve done a few local talent shows as a storyteller, but continue to lose to singers (and dancers). I’ve always wanted to do something different for a talent show, as opposed to “doing what everyone else does”. If the audience wants singing and dancing, they’ll get singing and dancing. With these LED light gloves and this LED light orbit, I will make my mark in this world, as well as beat out the singers, one glimmer of light at a time!

The Epic McVentures of Fuck (Cray) Mountain

My life is a giant quest. The ultimate goal of my adventures is to become more confident in myself, believe in my positive attributes as a person, and maintain positive relationships with the people I decide to keep close to me.

I've always been a roller coaster enthusiast for as long as I could remember. Even my bat mitzvah theme was Six Flags and Amusement Parks. A year ago, I had went to Cedar Point to prove to myself I needed to end my relationship with Voldemort the jerk bag boyfriend at the time, not knowing the next time I'd end up back there again. I was able to live my childhood dream, but that's about the only gratification I was able to feel, besides letting go of toxicity. Less than a year later, my second chance to live my childhood dream plopped into my lap.

On June 6, me, my two roommate friends, and a friend I met while playing Dance Dance Revolution in an arcade, embarked on an adventure to ride the largest of roller coasters in the US and get out of town for a bit. Ironically enough, I met this lovely friend of mine at the arcade on an occasion when I got Voldemort so mad at me to where I left his apartment at 3:30am to drive home. Needless to say, I made the correct decision on who to keep in my life!

Prior to this adventure, my friend who I met while playing Dance Dance Revolution was afraid of roller coasters. We were supposed to go to Cedar Point, an amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio with record-breaking roller coasters, on the Monday. The park ended up closing due to weather issues and power outages; we ended up hitting the Six Flags in the Chicago suburbs instead. The park was an hour away from my apartment. We arrive at the park to do our “warm up rides” aka the not super scary rides. We hit the Demon looping coaster and the “more tame wooden coaster”, the Viper first and he went on those rides without a problem. We ended up heading over to the bigger wooden coaster, the "American Eagle", and he chickened out and didn’t go on the ride. The 4 of us end up hitting the a number of the bigger rides at the park, all of which my friend still chickened out for. I was getting worried my poor friend wouldn't go on any rides and possibly kick himself for it later. We wanted to leave the park early in order to make our lengthy drive drive to Ohio and not get there at 3am, but I opted for “1 more ride”. On this ride, known as "Batman", your feet dangle and you’re suspended under the track. I knew he disliked coasters where your feet dangle, but he shockingly went on the ride and thought it wasn’t that bad. By the time we reached Cedar Point, one by one, he was going on all of the rides. By the end of the first of two Cedar Point days, he succeeded at riding the fastest and tallest full roller coaster in the park. By the end of the second day, he succeeded at going from chickening out on a 175 foot drop wooden roller coaster to challenging a ride with a 420 foot almost straight down drop without crying, puking, or peeing himself. I was encouraging him the entire time and even prior to our adventures and was blown away he went on every single major ride at Cedar Point. He attributed his fear conquering to my upliftingness. I’ve always wanted to make a difference in people’s lives; whether it’s on a larger scale or on a smaller scale to a dear friend, I’m happy to be able to change people’s lives and watch them grow!

Finding Your Rainbow Road

Sometimes, I feel like I run away from my problems instead of treating it like the boss level of a video game. Other times, I feel like making a “Grand Theft Auto” type getaway is quite necessary.

Right now, I’m at a point in my life where I want to figure out who and what to keep as integral components. It seems like a lot of people “be getting married and having kids and settling down and having a dog and a 9 to 5 job and playing family” and within the past year, I left a serious relationship, quit my corporate desk job, and find valid, but fake excuses to bail out of family events. I am, however, very lucky to have a chosen family!

A lot of people around me, including my twin sister, are all starting to couple up. I on the other hand have decided to focus on myself. While I am about to go get my second chance at a proper trip to Cedar Point in the next few days, the last time wasn’t so unicorn and rainbow filled. When me and “Voldemort” were about to go to Cedar Point, I was elated to finally live one of my childhood dreams; I also was on the verge of dumping his ass. Long story short, he was a very manipulative, unhappy person who enjoyed picking trivial arguments with me and not returning the favor in bed. We were only in Ohio for 2 days, but at least I had made sure to save a batch of my “special extra chocolate brownies” for the trip. The trip started with a, “hey, so you’re driving the entire way there” right as we were about to leave. We stopped at a Dunkin Donuts to get coffee and noms for the road and I began munching on my special brownies behind his back. I made sure to also eat some every rest stop we took and every time he left the room or turned his back. By the time he was ready to head back to Chicago, there was still another hour or so left before park closed, which I wanted to capitalize on. The more he upset me throughout the trip, the more I continued to keep contact with my “peanut gallery” in order for me to talk myself into breaking up with him. For the record, I had never broken up with someone on my own where it hasn’t been a mutual breakup before. He was being a jerk and decided to stay in the car while I walked around the parking lot for about 20-30 minutes, played a quick round of Dance Dance Revolution, went to the bathroom, and made a mad dash back to Millennium Force (a record-holding coaster with a steep and high drop). Unfortunately, the ride broke down several times while I was in line and I ended up waiting an hour and 45 minutes. During that time, I received several angry texts from him, most of which I ignored. After his display of waiting by the exit with disdain and refusing to talk to me for the car ride, I fell asleep in the car, woke up, got back into my apartment, and broke up with him that night. About 36 hours later, I ended up back at his apartment, grabbed my stuff, and “ghosted him” (stopped replying to him).

Not only do I need to be treated well by people I let into my life closely, but I also need to be treated well by my career path. When choosing to be a web developer, I was always a bit skeptical about staying in the IT field. As soon as I walked into my nice shiny job out of college, I was aboard the SS Sinking Ship, set to un-anchor itself at an undefined timeline. I’ve always been a high achiever and have experienced my fair share of failure, but never to this extent. When I was in school and had difficulty in a given class subject, I’d go to the professor and receive adequate assistance. I thought when at work and you experienced difficulty in a particular subject, you were supposed to ask your manager. However, asking the manager questions meant the project getting reassigned to a “cheap Indian laborer” contractor. After a few of these incidents, I began reaching out to others on my team, as well as networking a bit further. As soon as everyone was too busy to help me since I was unable to figure out how to complete the assignments on my own, I displayed a facade of productivity and success while internally, I knew I wasn’t contributing much of anything except for spreadsheets and install meetings. As soon as those weren’t good enough for my manager, my motivation went down the toilet and I felt the urgency of, “I need a new job and need to get out of here”. I ended up finding a new role, but within the same company; I did need to sneak through a few corners in order to attain the position, but it worked out and off I was to a building further south into the city. Minus the displeased manager and task reassignment, my new team wasn’t much different. I was still very unmotivated and felt the “I need to get out of here” urges. I ended up vanishing to go for many “walks” and there were a few times I went grocery shopping during work hours. My success facade walls were beginning to be broken down. A few months later, it was almost time for reviews. From midyear review to final review, I hadn’t completed a single significant task, including an assignment spanning across 8 months that lulled due to my coding program crashing beyond repair. I ended up deciding to put my technology “career” behind me and basically ghosted out of my job to everyone besides my manager and HR. Now, I’m significantly happier, am driving for Uber, performing a lot more frequently, and trying to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. I have not been treated poorly by any customers yet either.

Hardships are definitely difficult to face. Even though these experiences were necessary for wisdom’s sake, sometimes, you need to play ghost and do you in order to find true happiness!

Zero to Forgiveness

A quarter century ago, I was born under the wing of my mom and dad and was setup to navigate life’s mazes on my own.

Sometimes I wonder what the “ideal parental unit relationship” is supposed to look like. I sometimes say “I wish things could have been different”, but I’d rather try to find the positive in something, even if it seems like there isn’t anything bright to say. It could be worse. We had no problems getting food on the table and had shelter.

I see all of these people having close relationships with their mom and part of me wishes I could have one, but need to accept it not being in the cards for me. In a mother-themed story, one would expect me to discuss the positive experiences I’ve had; though there isn’t anything noteworthy, I am thankful to have been afforded the opportunity to try several different activities and sports. I wrote a poem recently about “surviving an episode of the mother’s day show”, which consisted of lyrically explaining how anxious I become prior to mandated interactions with my mom.

According to statistics you see in psychology textbooks, having a negative relationship with parental units constitutes adverse effects in being able to create and maintain relationships with others. The relationship with both of my parents was overall pretty poor throughout my entire life, but it is more in “no bueno land” with my mom. It is also mentioned how poor familial relationships elicit an increased likelihood for adulthood mental illness.

A certain situation often overlooked is family bullying. In being an identical twin, being born a minute after my sister meant everything. I was looked at as the youngest, smallest, and weakest, therefore most vulnerable. With being the subject of all of the ridicule displayed among the family, it caused a plethora of problems. One verbal attack after another, I’d sit there and take them like nothing is bothering me. My anger-o-meter would escalate from green, yellow, orange, and red, until I reached “super saiyan levels”. I eventually would become so tired of getting hurt to a point where I would become rage angry and want to terrorize the town and crush buildings. This led to me not only struggling to create relationships with other women while joining a sorority in college in effort to combat my poor parental unit dynamics, but it also caused me to be unable to properly communicate my upset feelings and struggle with being assertive in the professional world. It also drove me to being so depressed and anxious to a point where a friend noticed a difference in my behavior and suggested I attend therapy (and I did). One of my friends I live with explained to me what a healthy relationship should look like; while I don’t want to envy him, negative life situations make you stronger.

I wish I was able to get my entire college paid for me like a lot of my surrounding friends. I wish I was able to go on more family vacations. I wish I didn’t have to spend my childhood getting yelled at and nitpicked for not meeting your unattainable standards not in my direction. I still try to search for what love means. Since verbal abuse was a norm in my life, getting verbally abused by boyfriends became a thing too. Every time I think I’d want to “try again”, something would happen to make me feel unsafe. By the end of college, I no longer wanted to associate myself with my past and refused to take family graduation pictures. I wish I wasn’t so sheltered as a child to a point where most of my life skills were acquired after moving out and needing to teach myself. Being hand-held my entire life led me to struggle to trust myself, as well as make me so clueless about money to a point where I ended up listening to my abusive ex boyfriend who coerced me into making extremely poor decisions. I can’t dwell on the past though. It’s time to move on! I wish my mom would be able to move on from her past too, which hindered her to be able to properly express love. It’s why I haven’t been able to say the magic 3 words in at least 10 years.

As an overall positive person, I like to act like a house flipper in terms of dealing with negative circumstances. I could rant and rave all day about my difficult childhood or choose to think about the strong woman I am becoming for overcoming the rugged flaming pathways.

I hear about all of these stories about kids failing out of college, getting arrested for whatever reason, or turning into “festie burnouts”, meaning those who attend festivals to escape reality. I may now have to suffer through the massive self-esteem issues, but I have a lot more to be thankful about than I think.

I am thankful to have been able to realize I was mentally troubled and decided to seek recovery. All of my past trauma has inspired me to want to constantly better myself every day and find my strongest self. I am thankful I didn’t have to get sent to some lame daycare and my mom worked from home while we were very young. I am thankful to be in good health and rarely get sick. I am thankful to have been able to attend a super prestigious high school that shoved the “hard work pays off” motto in your face and even had a fencing team, which I was on all 4 years. I am thankful I am thankful to be able to attend a major university and earn a college degree and the opportunity to have worked for one of the top international banks. A lot of people I know and see seem to accept mediocrity and comfort while finding themselves through romantic relationships. I am lucky to strive for independence and find my own stability to make the system work by for me by taking risks instead of joining the corporate zombies. Most of all, I am thankful to be a self-motivated person who is able to turn the poor treatment in my past into wanting to inspire others to bring out their best selves, help others, and make a difference. The list continues.

As I grow older, I am becoming aware how I can no longer remain bitter of my past; I need to let go of bitterness in order to find forgiveness. Whatever happened x number of years ago is gone and I need to take the backpack off and leave it behind. I need to keep telling myself these experiences were just meant to make me stronger and possess more mental endurance. Plus, I’m not perfect and apologize for my shitty past behavior. I can only forgive so much, but I can never forget. I’m just thankful to be alive!

Stop Doubting Yourself

A little while ago, I wrote a motivational speech explaining how people should stop doubting themselves. Unfortunately, I've been quite guilty of doing so lately.

Thoughts from my past have lately been popping up in my head, all of questioning myself and decisions I made. The most recent example is when I recently decided to make a career change and left my “nice shiny job”, jumping off the top of a Chicago skyscraper and pulling the parachute cord. It was one of the scariest decisions I had ever made. I left safety and exchanged it for the unknown and adventures. I didn’t think I’d still be able to maintain independence, but have so far been successful.

When you’re a little kid, positive actions are rewarded by affirmation and negative and against the norm behavior are answered by punishment. For me, it seemed like everything in my line of sight was answered with a punishment or snarky response. It all started by getting kicked around in the womb by my twin, thus being born second. I didn’t care about one measly minute, but to her, it meant everything. She always wanted to be better than me and all I wanted to do was be me. I was always the brown banana in the bunch; it was the one that was still tasty and often thrown away or overlooked. I once walked outside in a pink scarf with flowers on it, a black shirt, pink skinny jeans, piano high knee socks, and skate shoes, all tied together with a pink bow headband. My mom gave me the stink eye and ask me if I was about to go in public looking how I did. I walked out the door. My sister didn’t receive the same treatment in my presence, and likely not at all. Little did I realize how bad I felt like I was screwed over for my adult life in terms of believing in myself.

Many people have told me how you're supposed to take pride in yourself, but how can you if the demons in your head are like a cancer eating at your self worth due to the dragons of your past you’re wrangling with? According to Maslow's hierarchy of needs, it is quite essential to feel a sense of belonging in this world. I wanted to find a special place of being welcomed and praised.

There have been many situations where everyone seemed to believe in me except for me. For example, towards the end of my senior year in college, as a Web Development major, I was given this assignment to make a web page with specific requirements. I was in the library among some of my friends investing in my screen. The demon spoke to me and told me there’s no way I’d ever be able to accomplish this task. When I took a few programming classes prior to this, I had to repeat 2 of them. Both classes were the ones I took with my sister, who showered me with how I was the most useless and crappy programmer ever. I was never really praised and thus, believed I was an awful programmer. I went to the professor’s office several times and he told me I’d surely be able to solve the programming puzzle. After mustering up the courage to spray the demon with pepper spray in the eye instead of backing down immediately, I successfully completed the assignment.

On December 5, 2015, I successfully tested for my black belt in Shotokan Karate. I was constantly showered with compliments by my peers in class, as well as from my friends. I wasn’t sure if I was going to pass the test and would ask my friends, “what if I failed my test?” I sometimes had these toxic thoughts in my head of how I’m not worthy of being a black belt. When I was trying to land my first job right out of school back when I was overweight, I was about to basically have interview number 20 and hadn’t received any offers yet. My mom told me I probably wasn’t receiving any offers because I was overweight and didn’t look good enough. I ended up landing that job. I took my karate test in front of the instructor who had once given me a low score. I was ready to show the world what I was made of. I obviously passed, am worthy of large accomplishments, and need to tell my brain to accept it.

In regards to maintaining relationships with other people, I sometimes felt like people were going to be offset by my quirkiness and how loud I am. I’ve had way too many poor and abusive relationships with men for my own good and I was bullied by peers and family from Pre-K through the end of college. I had also experienced several roommate fail situations, due to fear of communication on my end stemming from the fact standing up for myself at home was punished consistently, among other reasons. Surely enough, I was able to learn from the reasons that made my past relationships fail and hit the jackpot this time around. I am still not so lucky yet in terms of finding a romantic partner, but I’m sure it will soon change.

To top it off, when I graduated from college and was left to suffer the wrath of my parents, I was also left knowing I needed to move on from my high school friends. Thankfully, one of my friends from college introduced me to the Belegarth Medieval Combat Society, a group of nerds who enjoy playing a contact sport battle game where you hit each other with foam weapons. I tried to find a community (of women) to accept me in college, which turned into me being considered too weird to recruit people and only good enough to hand out the finger sandwiches and show Powerpoint slides. To my disbelief, after I was introduced to this nerd community, I was welcomed and accepted with open arms. I am worthy of having real friends who love and accept me for who I am and need to keep telling myself that.

Let me begin again by asking, “how would you take pride in yourself if you’ve been beaten down so many times?” The answer is resilience. People are bullies to those who value themselves because the bullies feel the need to hurt others to make themselves feel prideful. The targets for bullying are usually people who identify as being “different”. Every time I doubt myself and prove myself against a challenge, I become empowered. The empowerment motivates me to want to continue to push myself farther than I think I am capable of. Sticks and stones may break your bones, words may break your soul, but the only way to win the fight is to take a stand and keep standing.

You Can Do It

Lately, been suffering from a lot of confidence issues lately due to a lot of recent changes in activities, friends, and my career path and have taken a lot of time to reflect about what I've done for a quarter century. This past weekend, I went camping with my “sword fighting” group called the “Belegarth Medieval Combat Society”. On these camping trips, we play our “nerd foam fighting combat game” during the day, and eat, drink, and be merry around campfires at night. I usually have a group to camp with, but most of my close friends from Davenport, Iowa were unable to attend this event. I want to feel like I’m worthy of success and fitting in. When I told a bunch of my friends I had nowhere to camp this event, they all welcomed me with open arms and even offered to setup my tent. Aside from knowing I'm an accepted part of the Belegarth community, I have 2 really good friends at home to help me realize I’m never alone. I was even able to successfully meet new people, which I was proud of.

I also took a recent leap of faith, which has been on my mind for quite some time. I decided I no longer want to continue on the career path I chose in college, Web Development. To also confirm that decision, I’ve somehow been phased out of all my committees and leadership positions within the IT field. There was even a conference I was recently supposed to volunteer for, a place for college students pursuing technology could network and find career and certification opportunities. They for some reason stopped contacting me. I also departed from 9 to 5 land, the place that kept my wallet safe and gave me a springboard to figure out what I want to do with my life. Now, I have turned into “Your Friendly Neighborhood Uber Driver”, rideshare driver at large hoping my blog of the same name or other projects of mine get noticed. My blood family doesn’t necessarily support my decision, but my real friends call me brave. I’m aware dreams come in baby steps and not overnight. You have to work gradually to achieve your goals. Every time I question whether or not I’m capable of attaining success when I feel down, I always flashback to how I was able to earn my black belt for Shotokan karate. The test of physical and mental strength was quite the strenuous fiend.

December 5, 2015 quickly approached. I spent all day at home relaxing, practicing a little, refreshing my memory on Japanese terminology, picking up my gi, and picking up one of my roommates from work thanks to him being oh so kind enough to watch my exam. When I arrived at the testing venue, I frantically applied my essential body oils for mental balance that I rub behind my ears and topically for medicinal benefits, chugged water, and waited to be placed in line to test. I was of course the oldest one in my testing session, but that’s because being a 20 something isn’t a very popular demographic in my karate club. I ended up having to test among kids who were about 15-16 years old when I’m supposed to test with people 15-35 years old. While I was waiting for my name to be called, since there were less people than usual in my testing group, I was to either test in front of the dojo owner or test for the most senior instructor who I tested in front of when I tested poorly prior to taking a 5.5 year karate hiatus at the end of my junior year in high school. Testing for the senior instructor would be my redemption to show him how much I’ve grown in the 7+ years since the last time I saw him. When my name was called, it was no surprise to I’d have to test in front of the senior instructor.

It was time to kick some ass and take some names. I took a deep breath and waited in my ready stance for the test to start. “Downward block assume!” was called. The fire was lit. As we were doing warm up punches and kicks down the floor, of course my contact decided to almost fall out; doing front kicks forward and backward down the floor while having one functioning eye felt like a half blind man trying not to bump into walls. My contact eventually popped back in. The proctor called, “Inward block reverse punch”; “Downward block reverse punch”; “Knife hand block”; “Front kick, spear hand thrust”. I was desperate for water and gasping for air. It also felt weird when the judges were staring at my loud breathing, but I’d rather be breathing loud than not show any fighting spirit. My “kiai” spirit yells were louder than the sound of hearing a firetruck siren from your house. Once the basics portion of the test was done, it was time to do our katas. Before beginning the kata, you announce the name of what you're performing; “Bai Sai Dai”, channeled from my heart through my mouth. The executed kata was successful. Next, it was time for the colored belt katas. Thankfully, we had to do these katas for the tournaments; I completely spaced on having to do those katas for the first degree brown belt going on black belt test… oops! “Heian Godan” gets called and it went very well too of course. After katas were performed, it was time for target tests, to see if we could punch a target and escape in time and kick a target. I hit the focus mitt with as much drive as I could with plenty of accuracy. Once the target tests were over, we were asked Japanese terms and needed to execute the move corresponding to the Japanese term called out. “Kosa Dachi”; “Shuto Uke”; “Mawashi Geri”. All of those were called out correctly. We were then asked how many classes we attended, if we went to any tournaments, and if we went to the kickathon service event fundraiser to raise money for charities involving helping sick children. For the final portion of the test, it was time to do one point sparring, meaning each person goes to the front of the line and does a block/counter technique to the person throwing the attack. When it came my turn, I was luckily presented with opportunities to catch people’s round kicks, spin them around, and followup with a punch. By the time the test was over, my legs were ready to collapse faster than an olympic sprinter who just won first place.

The day after the exam, it was time to receive my results. I arrived at my class, and it was announced in front of everyone by the instructor I had growing up as a child that I had earned my black belt. I pictured myself in my dreams crying my eyes out in the middle of class, but instead, I wasn't surprised. It took me about 8+ years to earn my black belt. Victory is mine and I am now worthy of the official title of badassery! If I am capable of earning my black belt, I am capable of achieving my dreams with hard work and passion by my side.

Lost in Translation

What do I want to do with my life and who do I want in my life? A question many twenty-somethings asks themselves. I studied Web Development in college and got a job right out of school. Every time I create a program, it’s supposed to produce a specific output. System.out.println(“Lost in Translation”, x); The program responds with a syntax error. When a syntax error occurs, you have to go back in the program and find where the “red X” is in your program. After reviewing the program, you keep fixing the problem until the desired output is attained. I decided to run the program one more time, which it ran to completion error free. I later notice something fishy about the program; the answer is supposed to be 1, while mine was 0. This is what’s known as a logic error, where the program runs error free with a different than desired output.

Growing up, I thought I wanted to be a computer programmer. My parents had this “vision” of who I was going to be when I grew up. They wanted me to be rich with lots of money, successful in a career, and marry a “nice Jewish man”. One of my childhood friends exposed me to programming at age 12. Unfortunately, most of my encounters with programming and programming classes have been negative. Right before it was time to start finding my true path, he ended up becoming an angel to watch over me and guide me from above. The more I sat at my desk I watched myself ride a sinking ship for almost 3 years. I would receive programming assignments with vague instructions and be told to go have fun. I’d run my program. System.out.println(“please work”, y); Program returns syntax error. Several days elapse. Syntax error. I try to tell my manager the type of assistance I need, but one person would run me around in circles aimlessly and another would tell me to go figure the answer out myself. Several failed or incomplete assignments later, I tried again elsewhere in the company to understand what this “Java Programming” thing is all about. Unfortunately, that didn’t work out either.

My parents thought I was successful because I had a job, but I was unhappy and not producing, therefore I was not successful in my eyes. Despite knowing they wouldn’t approve, I took a necessary and planned leap of faith and left my job as a programmer to find myself as a freelance writer and web developer while still making money driving for Uber and Lyft, or doing whatever else I could get my hands on. We are in a different generation and they need to understand millennials have a different viewpoint than generation X and Y. Success to them is stability. Success to me is happiness and being able to pay my bills. In the meantime, I will go be “Your Friendly Neighborhood Uber Driver”, hoping the right people will notice me.

It seems like being different yields ridicule because no one understands the language. I would be dressed to go to a bar in pink leggings, a black dress, and rainbow-colored eyes. My parents would make comments alluding to me looking weird; I would never change my clothes. I experienced this same ridicule in the place I thought was supposed to be my college home aka my sorority. I guess I have my own fashion sense, which makes me different. After I graduated from college, one of my friends in my major introduced me to the Belegarth Medieval Combat Society when I told him I felt lost at home. I felt like I had no friends and living at home was rough. After my friend took me to a practice, I was forever hooked and have been involved in this organization ever since. I would walk down the stairs dressed in my “medieval garb” and have my foam weapons with me. They would assume I was “LARPing”, which stands for “Live Action Roleplaying”. If they really wanted to know what I was doing, they would ask. I would respond by telling them I’m playing a full contact sport where you hit each other with foam weapons, such as swords, spears, javelins, bows and arrows, etc. and if you hit the person in the torso or they are hit in two limbs (or twice consecutively in the same limb), they “die” and are either out for the round or respawn depending on the game type. Players also dress in medieval garb. Several laughs later, I’d walk out the door knowing they made fun of me once again for doing my thing. At least they don’t know about my dancing with with gloves with LED lights in the fingertips. *does a brief demo of what I do for about 30 seconds* There are also meetups for flow arts all over the Chicagoland area, as well as groups on Facebook which I’m a part of as well.

Little did they know this “nerd group” I found, as well as other communities I am a part of would end up becoming my home and place of therapeutic recreation. I found people who helped me lose weight, learn to manage my emotions and my life, and even give me advice on how to manage my money. I am a part of of something, mean something, and am still able to pay my bills. I am different, and if you can’t accept me, you will be the one who’s lost. System.out.println(x); output = 1. Run successful.

Blue Lights on Hearts

TRIGGER WARNING → Sensitive subject alert on sexual assault and rape culture -- This is my sexual assault story (also being shared at one of my shows)! Feel free to share!

Dear beautiful universe,

It is almost Valentine’s Day and I have had yet another “red face incident” with a man, which triggered a body shutdown. I went over to “my friend’s house” to go pick up some sandwiches and maybe chill for a little bit. I’ve always been wary about this guy and I’ve been red flagging him for awhile, but this time was no different. I didn’t expect him to go as far as he did this time though. We were in his TV room sitting on the couch casually talking and having an intelligent conversation about the state of the world; who doesn’t like intelligent conversation? I’m usually the one to ramble in people’s conversations and I was starting to fall asleep at him rambling to me, granted it was past midnight at that point. I picked up my sandwiches and he wanted to “give me a hug”. Ok, well, I like hugs and can use one, so sure why not. He then gives me a hug and proceeds to sound like the hugs are turning him on; through his arm I almost wish he saw the faces of disgust I was making. When I start to feel uncomfortable, I exit the hug to cough, even though I didn’t “actually” have to cough. He then wants to hug me again; same result happens. This time, his hands started to slip during the hug. He was sounding like he was turned on and his hands “really slipped” a little bit too low. My body went into “shut down mode”, which means my brain disconnects from the sensation in my body. I can still move and feel my limbs, but I mentally feel very numb. Also, it almost feels like I’m having a “negative version of an adrenaline rush”. Something rushes down my spine, but it feels like I’m having a chill go down my spine and an adrenaline rush at the same time. I fake coughed my way out of the hug again, gathered my sandwiches, and checked my phone. Since lying has unfortunately been my defense mechanism to escape danger, after checking my phone, I told him I had to go pick up my friend from work. He wanted to hug me again and I was like, “well ok fine I guess” and did so to avoid awkwardness. He then proceeded to do a “butt grab” as a “funny joke”. I exited the hug, left, facepalmed myself on the area next to the elevator buttons, walked back to my car, and called my roommates… I give hugs out of exchange for love, are platonic only, and have no sexual intent. I guess people like to assume sexual intent with more than they should. They are disobeying the four agreements to not make assumptions.

I’m sorry I’m not sorry, but “butt grabs”, unless you’re my partner or one of my best friends joking around where I know you’re joking, I am NOT OK with you doing that… I’m sure plenty of others would agree with me. I am not being too sensitive. I value and protect my body and share it only with those I strongly trust. I’ve always had an aversion to butt grabs and even tickling for most of my life and it was recently affirmed when I was in a relationship with my last boyfriend. He helped me communicate with my twin sister a lot and there was something I had been wondering for awhile about how my parents treated me. When I was younger and even as an adult, my dad would always try to tickle me and chase me up the stairs trying to “spank me” as a funny joke. When I was younger I may have thought it was entertaining, but when I grew older, I started to question the behavior. I later realized I would start to try to stick my hands behind me to defend my butt whenever he would try to do that. After the very last time he did that, I asked my boyfriend at the time to help me find out if he did the same thing to my sister. Of course he didn’t; I was not surprised. Part of me sometimes wonders what I’ve done to warrant this behavior from other people, and the answer is nothing.

After I broke up with my last boyfriend at the end of July, I have wanted to stay single for awhile to develop a better relationship with myself. Plus, I’m not ready to settle down yet. I’m still in my 20s and want to go on adventures without being tied down to anyone. I’m also in the process of starting the next chapter in my career and don’t have time for a relationship. I wish people didn’t always assume my kindness to mean more than it really does. I went to a concert at the end of November prior to going to Iowa and I was with my sister and some of her friends. After the concert, they went home and I had plenty more midnight oil in me. I know going to bars alone at 2:30am in Chicago as a 5’2 woman with a fit build when not sober is probably a horrible idea. Consciously, I went to the Green Mill to try to find some people to socialize with, found no one, and went to the Uptown Lounge, found no one again, and told myself if I don’t find anyone at the Green Mill to talk to on take 2, I’m going to home. I go to the Green Mill a second time and am eventually approached by a man who looks to be around my age and was a tall, slim black man, and his foreign exchange student friend from Denmark. We talked for awhile and ended up going back to their apartment to chill. On the walk back, the foreign exchange student friend began acting belligerent and begging to hook up with me. We arrive at the apartment complex that looked like a “very run down college dorm building” in the “not so nice” area in Uptown. The foreign exchange student keeps asking me to hook up and wants to cuddle and I tell him no, politely, several times. The slim black man told me it was “a part of their culture” to do that. The foreign exchange student was sent to bed and then the other friend kept wanting to hook up with me too. All I wanted to do is make new friends because I’m tired of staying in and working my butt off all the time. The slim black man then proceeded to want to cuddle with me and I was like, “dude, I can’t” and he kept asking me “why not” and I was very up front, “I was sexually assaulted recently and am still very traumatized, I’m sorry”. He continued to keep asking and I continued to say no. I then excused myself to the bathroom and proceeded to take the slowest number 2 ever; I *really* took my time. It was almost 6am at this point. I was also trying to hold back tears and having an anxiety attack because I felt very unsafe. I finally feel ready to exit the bathroom, about 30 minutes later, and the slim black man was passed out on the couch. I thankfully didn’t have many of my belongings on me and grabbed my shoes, made sure I had all of my stuff, and ninja-ed out the door to make my escape back home. I then cried for 7 hours straight and eventually gathered enough strength to go help run an event, knowing I’d be surrounded by my “hug machine” and sends me to a very happy place!

Not only that, but I can’t even go to my favorite place in the world without having to worry about men creeping on me. I was at my “home base” camping with my friends back in August, 2015, this was the first of the incidents to start a fire among the general concept of rape culture. It was about midnight-1am on Friday night going into Saturday and I had recently arrived at my campsite and was ready to greet my friends. By the time it was midnight-1am, all of us were far from sober; I was still coherent of course, but rather intoxicated. I’m in a circle of about 4 other people, all are my friends, and one of them casually asks me to sit on his lap. I knew he had a girlfriend, I sit on my friend’s laps all the time just for fun with no meaning behind it, and there were other people around. I sat on his lap. We were all talking per usual and all of a sudden the guy’s hand starts to go down my skirt… down, and down, and down, and then my body shut down. After that happened, I prompted our group to go for a walk towards the main area where a big glob of people are. I pull one of my friends aside and told him to keep that guy from wanting to make any moves on me and from creeping on me. I continued my epic night of fun and shenanigans not really realizing what happened to me. I carry through the rest of my camping trip as usual and go home on Sunday to pass out in exhaustion. I wake up Monday morning and have an uneasy feeling in my stomach and I text my friend Danny telling him what happened. He felt all of the super nopes and told the event coordinators. Since I’m friends with the event coordinators, the main event coordinator asked me if I wanted this guy to get banned from the event in the future. I had a fear of retaliation, but a few hours later decided to let my friend go through with punishing this man. The rest of the community took notice and he was banned from everything and vanished. As a result of this incident and now that the community was woken up to the fact that rape culture is everywhere, a few kind souls decided to step up and make a “safety and security group” to prevent this type of thing from happening as much as possible, as well as to keep event goers safe and less fearful of “red face people”.

In the end, getting violated by men consistently FUCKING SUCKS, not going to lie! At least traumatic incidents seem to level up my creative endeavors! Even though these incidents happened, like anything else, I must accept it, acknowledge it, move forward, and free myself of pain through yoga, meditation, or whatever else. It takes a lot of strength to get back up repeatedly… Let's take a stand and find a way to make sure no one I know has to go through this or can stand stronger afterwards!

For all you single ladies (or men), go dance around in your living room like Beyonce without a ring on your finger and go celebrate yourself. We are human. We are strong. We are resilient. We can overcome pain and keep going. It is Valentine’s Day weekend. It is a time to spread love regardless of whether or not you have a romantic partner. Instead of being all “Anti Valentine’s Day” and bitter for being single, go treat yourself instead and give a hug to all of your friends. Commit to loving yourself and sit in a hot tub for 30 minutes telling yourself you’re beautiful, Say hi to the freezing homeless man on the street or even smile. A Valentine is a heart, which is the universal symbol for love. How will you spread joy during this Hallmark Holiday?

The Warrior's Song

I have always been told how interesting and different I am, but this time it’s because I am a female warrior, foam fighter, and martial artist. I enjoy stepping on the battlefield and putting up a valiant fight; sometimes on the field, I am literally among several other guys, including ogres, and no other women. I may lack in physical size, but my speed, heart, and endurance make up for it. When you look into my eyes and see raging fire, and see my smile, the unicorns and rainbows, and giggles melt away, it’s time to say goodbye; anyone who crosses my path is toast. It’s game on!

It is now time for battle. My uniform is ready to go. My power levels soar through the roof and my agility will help me maneuver like a gracefully-ice skating ninja. Yes, they are well over 9000. I have my battle cry ready, my mental images of me defeating my opponent intact, and all of my built up stamina behind me; my energies and spirits are higher than a level 100 Pokémon who never gives up.

In karate, you hear the referee say “hajime!”, which is Japanese for “begin”.

In foam fighting, you hear the referee say “weapons up… lay on!”

Once I hear that, I take a deep breath and it’s off to fighting land, as I carry myself with my heart, pride, skill, stamina, and resilience. I obviously don’t win every battle I have, but in the end, it’s about giving it your all, having fun and bettering yourself with each fight. Especially with my medieval foam sword fighting, the object of the game is to have fun. As the Horde monster characters say, “if we have fun, Horde win!”

My battle cries and karate kiei's come from within my heart. I've been doing Shotkan karate for about 8 years and currently wear a belt 1 shade away from black; I am one test away from achieving the ultimate goal, and will hopefully get there around X-Mas time. Fortunately, this bowl of cool sauce translates into foam fighting and back very well!

Being a warrior doesn’t just mean being good at fighting. The foam fighting craziness is more than just whacking each other with foam swords. It’s about finding yourself, finding your style, and finding your family. Being the only girl (or pretty close) doesn’t matter because everyone treats you as a person. It’s like saying a man and a woman are people in the same way red and blue are colors. No one will go easy on you, but out of respect for women being physically smaller than men, they won’t totally wail on you. I am a warrior not just to stand up for myself or claim how strong I am, but I am a womanly warrior to represent other females afraid to enter male-dominated activities and battles.

In the midst of battle, I will sing my warrior’s song; after battle, I will sing kumbaya next to a campfire with my friends and family and enjoy the loveliness . Who cares if being a warrior isn’t exactly the highest activity on the social scale. In battle and nerd-dom, we come from all walks of life, such as computer programmer, teacher, lawyer, businessperson, office worker, and much more. We are all people looking to unite in commonality and camaraderie. If you are interested in seeing more of this foam fighting coolness I speak of, our next meeting is at 3pm until sundown on Foster Avenue Beach on Sunday. Search for “Belegarth Medieval Combat Society” and “Morva” on Facebook. I can’t wait to see your lovely faces get down to fight and have some fun! Cheers to fighting, fun, and being a female warrior!

The Belle Warrior

In the spirit of posting more content, I went to my first ever storytelling open mic (on 5-1-15) and what better story to tell than the happenings at a Belegarth camping event. This is basically an explanation of what a typical event day looks like in short story format from my (Maron's) point of view. Enjoy!

Since I live in Chicago, I have also posted the current locations and Facebook pages of the area practices (meetups). If it's your first time, we have loaner gear for you. Just show up in workout clothes and prepare to sweat :)

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Note: This story is based on a fantasy, but all of this is 100% true!

Maron has never been the typical face of society. As a pseudonym for the lady standing behind the mic, she stands for style and smiles, minus the sass. With her life being a large adventure consisting of being a poet, web developer, martial artist, sword fighter, chef, nerd, healthspirer, blogger, youtuber, warrior, musician, musical producer, singer, lyricist, short story artist, volunteer, comedian, photographer, dance game master, aspiring gameshow winner, novelist, teacher, mentor, public speaker, and now a story teller, for this segment, we shall delve into the land of nerdom, which connects with being a warrior, martial artist, and sword fighter. Maron is a full-fledged fighter despite over 80% of the combatant population being male. Oh well!

Welcome to the “Belegarth Medieval Combat Society”: A land where people wear medieval garb and whack each other with various foam weapons.

Well, what on earth is that? How is this even something remotely fun? It seems kind of… weird

Fun? The entire group revolves around foam, fun, fighting, friendship, family, and food! People from everywhere land (98% nationally) gather in one central location to enjoy the awesomeness!

This past weekend (April 23rd-26th), Maron had recently returned from “Spring Wars”, one of many “events” where several hundred people gather on a campground and camp, fight, socialize, and be merry for several days while enjoying being off the grid for a bit and not having to worry about adulting.

Maron arrived at YMCA Camp Abe Lincoln at approximately 10:30pm in Davenport, Iowa, aka smack dab in bu-fu nowhere, and went to “troll” aka check-in. She then entered the distant land of Selonia, aka her cabin, and set up shop, changed into her medieval garb, and went wandering for the night.

By the end of the very cold night, I ended up in “Hellhammer” camp in a circle talking about living in Chicago and taking the train.

The next morning, we all wake up at morning o’clock, which is generally between 8 and 10am because we don’t really check our phones or wear watches, take our foam weapons to “weapons check” to ensure safety and that the weapons meet the length/weight requirements and such, and you take them with you once they’ve been checked. Once your weapons are checked, make sure to eat some breakfast. It can span from a granola bar, cereal, eggs, lots and lots of bacon, coffee, tea, and you can even hit up Lady Feri, the food vendor, who sells the tastiest unhealthy indulgences ever, such as a bratwurst wrapped in a cheese quesadilla… Mmmmmm, fattening! Afterwards, you change into your “fighting garb” and prepare for the epic battles, which last for several hours. You can fight with a sword/shield, two swords, dagger, spear, two-handed sword, javelins, and even throw a “poke ball rock” (made of yarn) on someone’s head and win the fight against that person. After one of the days of fighting, there was a 5 man tourney, where Maron decided to join last minute with one of her fellow Selonians, two fellow Chicago folk, and a random newbie from Canada… Yes, people come to these things all the way from freeking Canada!

Next, it’s time to clean yourself up, change in to your feast garb, go to the “feast hall” (or tent), and eat even better than you can at home… unless you’re a chef like Maron is. This time, beef/vegetarian Chili and beef stew were served the first feast night and garlic/onion pork roast, pulled chicken cooked in a wood fire, ratatouille, and salad were served the second feast night. Mmmmmm, the tastiness!

Once feast has been served and cleaned up, it’s time to have some drinks and be merry… people even home-made their own beer, meade, apple pie drink, and much more. Maron’s palette of drink is always left smiling.

Since there is way more to these events than can be described in 7 minutes, for a small piece of nightlife pie, let’s just say that on Saturday night, Maron and the Selonians decided to adventure to “Pirate Camp”, the land off in the distant dark scary mudpit downhill maze past the scary, poisonous trees. Thankfully, the camp was able to be spotted easily because that’s where the main fire was. Drunken pirate songs were sung, cowbells were hit, jolly jolly grog was passed around, and fire spinners were spinning their fire sticks. After awhile, Maron had enough grog and wanted to go wander around some more until she encountered the Jesters Court, another group of fighters. One of the Selonians, named Flea, decided to wander with Maron and ended up in the Jester’s headquarters, located right next to some campfire and the crab shack, where Geyser was setup. Flea was a very sleepy Flea and decided to pass out in one of the Jester’s tents. Lots of conversations about history and the Children’s Crusade later, we needed to “flick Flea back to Sylas camp… or wherever”… hurmph… Shenanigans were definitely had in the Jester’s camp, but at least Maron and the Jesters ensured he got back to his bed safely!

As much as this story can expand forever and ever, if you’re interested in entering this fun-loving community and the best thing that has ever happened to Maron, there is actually a practice on Sunday from 3:30pm to sundown (weather permitting) on Foster Avenue Beach, 5200 N Lake Shore Drive off the Bryn Mawr Red Line. For more information, search for the facebook group “Morva” or “Esgaroth”. Hope to see you lovely people come out and fight and be merry sometime!

For other places to check out the Belegarth community, here are some other Chicago (and suburban) practices, all of which are currently active:

The realm (practice area) of Nightfort practices Sundays at 4:00pm to 7:30pm (or sundown) at Citizen’s Park, 511 Lake Zurich Rd, Barrington, IL 60010 (weather permitting) from approximately May-October. Winter and bad weather practices are at the Village Church of Barrington, 1600 E. Lake Cook Rd, Barrington, IL 60010

Facebook Page: Nightfort: Belegarth Medieval Combat Society

The realm (practice area) of Dunharrow practices on Tuesdays from 5pm to sundown at Wing Park, 1000 Wing St., Elgin, IL 60123

Facebook Page: Dunharrow, BMCS

The realm (practice area) of Obsidian Hollow practices on Saturdays from 2-5pm at Big Sky (Ken Carpenter) Park, 600 Harvest Gate, Lake in the Hills, IL, 60156

Facebook Page: Obsidian Hollow

The realm (practice area) of Galahad practices on Thursdays from 7-10pm at the Southeast corner of Michigan and Balbo in the Chicago Loop (near 829 S Wabash, Chicago, IL 60605)

Facebook Page: Morva; Galahad Medieval Combat Society

The realm (practice area) of Muxlovia practices on Saturdays from 5-8pm at the Bible Baptist Church of Romeoville, 301 W. Normantown Rd., Romeoville, IL 60446

Facebook Page: Muxlovia