exhilaration: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

I guess this is what I get for telling [livejournal.com profile] zeegeek that that other question was put there just for him, huh?

What am I holding onto in my life that I know I should let go of?

Lots of things.

What's getting in the way of doing so?

Anger.
exhilaration: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Allow them to make their own decisions.

For example:

Let your kid pick out his or her own clothes. I don't mean let your teenager wear whatever crazy thing all the other kids are wearing, backless rompers or stripper heels or whatever, or get piercings and tattoos and all the rest. I don't think there's anything wrong with those things, but a parent is within their rights to restrict their child's choices as to what they're allowed to wear. I don't think it's harmful to a kid growing up to have to learn to fit their preferences in clothing into "what's allowed," in fact, I think that's a valuable skill. BUT. Don't choose what they're wearing every morning. Don't get up with them, turn on their lights, get them out of bed, and pick out what they're going to wear. The result of this is a young adult who stares at a dresser full of clothes and has no idea what to do. Then that young adult turns into someone who freaks out whenever someone else touches her stuff, or tries to tell her what to do.

Yep. That's what happens. I remember it well.
exhilaration: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

When I was a kid I used to joke that my dad was a spy. I mean, I knew it was a joke, but I would sometimes say it with exact seriousness, because often people would ask me what my dad did for a living and I would have to answer with something that wouldn't provoke more intrusive questions - "spy" usually fit the bill. I wonder sometimes how many people actually believed me - it may have been more than I thought, because they never reacted as if they thought I was lying, you know, saying, spy? A SPY? YEAH RIGHT LARA, WHAT DOES HE REALLY DO? And I think it could have been believable - it would explain why my dad was never around much but my mom was not a single parent, either. I don't really remember where I initially got that idea - I think it's linked to the fact that my dad speaks Russian. He can also read and write in Russian and would often write in Russian to keep other people from being able to read his stuff, since Russian uses a different alphabet. I think I remember him once telling me that he wasn't writing Russian in Russian, he was writing in Spanish but using Russian letters.

Guys, children are at least partially a product of their environments, okay? Clearly I was RAISED to be paranoid as shit. Not only is it in my blood, but I've had lessons in it for my entire childhood!

I was a little girl at the very tail end of the Cold War and I guess for a while after people generally did associate "speaks Russian" with "spy." The truth is entirely less glamorous - my dad learned Russian because he enjoyed Russian literature and wanted to be able to read classics like "Crime and Punishment" in the original language. Yes really. That is what super geniuses do. When the Cold War ended, there was a massive wave of Russian immigrants to the U.S. and many of the initial arrivals were science and technology people - I knew my dad wasn't a spy. I just told people that because I didn't know the name of his job. I am pretty sure it was actually "mad scientist." He did a lot of work with Russian scientists when I was very very little. That's why he had Russian stuff all over his lab. You know, his lab in our basement. That my sister and I (and my mom!) were not allowed in. Because he was a mad scientist.

Or because it was his darkroom, because, being a super genius, he also decided he was a photographer and had a photo lab in our basement, which of course is light sensitive so you can't just go randomly opening the door or everything is destroyed. There were robots in there also. He made them. They assisted him with developing photographs - or whatever else he did in there. He talked to them, so clearly they operated on voice control, which he clearly invented himself, because he is a super genius after all. They also talked to each other, even when he wasn't in there, so obviously they were also some form of AI. They were named Joan and Jackie - after Joan Benoit and Jackie Joyner - women's track stars. Yes really!

My favorite memory of my dad and I together is something that I re-remembered fairly recently. I was telling someone about how my parents were crazy and always disturbing my sleep as a kid, but they were two different kinds of crazy. My mom would get me out of bed, in the middle of the night, because the floor was dirty and I needed to clean it immediately. My dad... my dad would get me out of bed and take me outside with the big telescope, and show me stuff in the sky, like a meteor shower or a lunar eclipse or even traces of the very edge of the Northern Lights, or just a very very bright planet or the surface of the moon. I was never allowed to touch the telescope because every time I did I always managed to move it slightly. I thought it was amazing how he could find things in the sky, I mean, I could stare up at it and never find anything, but he could pinpoint all kinds of things and get them in the telescope to show me.

I don't remember the significance of all the stuff in the sky really. I am pretty good at finding planets and constellations now, but I also had planetarium class in school, so I didn't learn EVERYTHING I knew from my dad. I was probably too young to retain much of the information he was bombarding me with at the time, but by the time I was old enough for school I was AWESOME at absorbing interesting stuff. One thing I definitely remember, though, was the comet. You know, Haley's Comet. I don't remember what the comet looked like AT ALL. I might not have even been able to really see it. Sometimes my dad would get frustrated trying to show me things and I was just way too little to even know what I was supposed to be looking at in the first place. Haley's Comet, though, I remember because my dad explained to me how exciting this was, how it could only be seen once every 76 years, and how special it was for me because I'd be alive when it came back, too, and I'd get to see it twice in my lifetime. I asked him how old he'd be when it came back, and he told me he wouldn't be alive by then, that nobody lives to be that old, and that I was lucky to have been born when I was because not every generation could see the comet twice in their lifetimes.

I just recently remembered this (Haley's Comet was entirely unspectacular - I CLEARLY remember the Hale-Bop comet several years later, visible for months and with the naked eye and THAT was pretty freakin awesome) and it kind of just occurred to me that someday I'll have NO parents. That someday, if I live to be 78 and if I care at all to go looking for comets... I will be very, very alone. I won't even have my own kids or grandkids to share this with.

I think today I should call my dad and tell him that even though I was very little, I remember him showing me the comet. He's not very sentimental like that, but, I don't know. I think he would appreciate knowing that I DO remember the stuff he did with me when I was so so young and that, you know, it was great that he did all that.
exhilaration: (me)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Yes. I run away from things all the time. I've been known to run across oceans, to different time zones, where they don't even speak my language.

Best thing I ever did.
exhilaration: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

I found this collection available on project gutenberg, and I started reading it, wondering if I would find it incredibly boring/stupid/immature or what.

What actually ended up happening was more like a portal into my past.

I got this book as a Christmas gift from my grandmother on my dad's side. My sister and I were never terribly close to my dad's family - we never seemed to be wholly included in their big huge family, and I always thought it was because we lived in another state and it was too far to travel (it's really only a few hours, it would have been entirely possible to see them more than twice a year) and my mom always told us it was because THEY wouldn't travel to see US because we didn't matter enough to them. Now that I'm grown up it's pretty clear to me that any sense of disconnect I felt from them was not my imagination, and it wasn't for either of those reasons, either - it was just because they didn't really know what to do with us. Being that my dad was married to someone else and all.

My dad's mom would frequently send my sister and I totally inappropriate Christmas gifts, like clothing made for kids five years younger than we were, or books way below our age level, or really cheap versions of things we already had, but this present was the other way on the scale - I think she gave it to me right before I turned eight, in second grade, (my birthday is right after Christmas so I usually got one present right around New Year's, which I think is why I kind of mix up the significance of New Year's and my actually birthday in my head to this day - it certainly does simplify things to think of it all as one occasion tho) and believe it or not, even though I am a super genius and love reading to the point of being obsessed, I don't think I really knew how to read in second grade. In school we barely did any actual reading beyond lists of words in a little book, and in the library we were directed towards very simple picture books with like one sentence per page.

In one year's time, when I was in third grade and turning nine, I had definitely figured out what reading actually was, because by then I was reading like everything in site, all the books in the library and all my dad's sci-fi and mystery and horror bestsellers (he had box after box after box of them, and some of them were very very adult - you wouldn't think a sci-fi novel would be inappropriate for a kid, just maybe a little too difficult to read, but I learned a LOT about adult relationships from those books!) and all my mom's old Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books (which I quickly grew tired of when I realized I could solve the mystery halfway through the book) but when I got this book as a gift in second grade, there was no way I could have or would have read it, so my mom put it away and said I could have it when I was older.

My grandmother also was never able to spell my name correctly, ever, on anything, it was always either "Lora" or "Laura" which always fed my suspicion that "Lara" is not a real name and was simply a mistake or misspelling on the part of my parents. I never really held it against her or anything because I think I was always pretty aware that neither of my dad's parents really knew how to read or write in English. Write their names and read a few signs, yeah, but really understand the quirky spellings of English, read a book, write a letter, that kind of thing... no, I am pretty sure they never could. So misspelling my name was not that big of a deal to me. Still... I would THINK she would have known that a book like that was not an appropriate gift for a second-grader...

The next year I discovered the Anne of Green Gables books. I had seen the miniseries on PBS and realized that it was a book, and decided I was going to read the book. Having seen the movie and already knowing the story I think helped to motivate me to actually read the entire book, because if certain parts were not interesting I knew it was going to get more interesting later. I impressed a lot of people reading those books, not because they are particularly difficult but because they are so LONG! It wasn't until I was in fifth grade though that I realized I had another book by that author, and it was a nice big book that I hadn't read yet. I suspected it might be a little boring (because Anne was kind of boring to me - there were so many other big long books that I just devoured and Anne was kind of tedious to read) but I figured I'd give it a try.

I remember so very clearly getting ready to read this book. I made myself a cup of vanilla-flavored instant cappuccino and took it to my bedroom with me (this was not allowed - also, I was a caffeine fiend even as a child, and this is probably why I never got very tall) and I put on my slippers and my favorite sweater and took my pillows and propped them up against the side of my bed and curled up in the corner between my bed and my nightstand and turned on the lamp on my nightstand and got my nice fuzzy blanket and set it between the bed and the nightstand so I could touch it while I read but if anyone came in my room they would not immediately see that I was obsessively petting my blanket (because my family always thought that was weird and would always try to get me to stop, and yes I am aware that it IS weird but its not exactly a harmful habit now is it?) and I opened the book and started reading.

It was such a long book, and had such a rambling pace - no suspense whatsoever, so I could start and stop whenever I wanted to, but it was interesting enough that I always wanted to set some time aside to pick it up again. Other books I would read all in one sitting, having to hide in different parts of the house so I could keep reading all the way through to the end, but this book I could just pick up and put down whenever, so I remember going through this ritual several times, getting things all set up to have the most perfect indulgent reading experience. I remember everything - I remember how the lamp on my nightstand had a yellow shade and how my bedroom carpet was a burnt orange color and my nightstand was also stained and orange sort of wood color, so everything around me was vaguely golden-ish colored. I remember how the metal of my bed frame would cut into my back, even through my pillow, but I'd be so absorbed by my book that I never wanted to move. I remember how my instant cappuccino drink would be all powdery at the bottom, and I remember how sometimes instead of playing with my blanket I'd play with this stretchy adhesive stuff that was sort of like a cross between silly putty and an eraser.

I just remember being totally content, and thinking, this is exactly what I want. Everything is exactly the way I want it. Nothing could be any more perfect than what I have right this minute.

I read a little bit of the book on project gutenberg and it isn't boring, it was very absorbing, but it really made me remember curling up and indulging myself when I was a kid. Right down to the very detail.
exhilaration: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Well, I've got a fantastic script for a short film about my life floating around in my head, and when I have more time I WILL write it all down and post it - you know, just a short, two scenes or something, the kind of thing you'd see on the IFC between other shows. But I'm stuck on who would play me. Your thoughts?

There isn't really anyone people have ever told me I resemble - I do remember watching The Craft with my friends in middle school and we were each one of those girls - I was the mixed-race girl with the crazy hair, without discussion or personality comparison, because I'm ethnic-looking I suppose. I was also always, without question, Scary Spice, not cause I'm scary (but the friend who got to be Sporty Spice was sporty...) but again because she was the only non-white Spice Girl and I guess I don't look white either. Once me and Bevan were watching TV at work and there was a short news clip about "the most beautiful woman in the world" and he was like, "oh, she looks like you" and I was like, NICE TRY, are you for real? I look like the MOST beautiful woman in the world? And he was like, yeah you have that same look, dark eyes and dark eyebrows and some kind of secretive expression, it's hot. ...That is actually the only time anyone has ever said I legitimately looked like someone famous.

Thing is... who would play me in a movie? I have a pretty fake-able disability, I'm sure an actress could convincingly use a wheelchair for a ten-minute film. But I've never been quite sure what to think about AB actors playing disabled characters - surely there are disabled actors out there who are plenty talented and don't even have to waste their energy learning to fake being paralyzed for a film. Especially if it's not even the focus of the film.

I feel like because I have a disability myself, I should have a stronger opinion about this - that it is WRONG to cast AB actors in disabled parts, or that it doesn't matter, acting is acting. But what I'm more caught up on is that my movie (that does not and will never exist - stretch your imagination for me here) would prob get more attention for being creative and unusual and interesting because one of the characters is disabled - it would take an ordinary, maybe self-important couple scenes, and make them that much more of note. The description, even though it wouldn't pertain to the plot, would include the wheelchair. If the actress was disabled in real life, any description of HER would include her wheelchair.

In other words... it's a STATEMENT, whether I want it to be or not.

Anyway, go ahead. You tell me who should play me, and I'll write that script out. That counts as something creative, right?
exhilaration: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

"What is not delicious with either chocolate OR cheese on it?"

The only answer I ever came up with was Chinese take-out :)

Also, I was recently asked what I want to be when I grow up. It was not asked tongue-in-cheek by someone my own age, or a fellow student, or anything reasonable like that. No, this was by someone about 15+ years older than I am who I had just introduced myself to. "So, Lara, what do you want to do when you grow up?" I was really taken aback by that one, I mean... I am 28 years old. I am already grown up. I may not have a career or a professional job or anything like that, but I am still a grown up, aren't I? And I don't think I look like a teenager or a young 20-ish college student.

How about when people ask me if I speak English? That's always such a strange question. I always wonder what I did to make people assume I don't. My boyfriend says its because when people talk to me I'm so in lala land that I just give this blank uncomprehending stare and they interpret that as me not understanding them. I've acknowledged that that is at least a possibility :)

There is also a category of questions that begin with "why don't you just" that can get pretty outrageous. "Why don't you just [blank]" to me implies that whatever [blank] is is the obvious and simple solution to a problem. For example, why don't you just buy a house? Or, on a different note... "why don't you just go to the emergency room" or "why don't you just take a tylenol?" Also, how about "why don't you just get a job as a cashier?" "secretary?" "teacher's aide?" "avon lady?" "etc?" Or wait wait... "why don't you sell your paintings at a flea market for fifty bucks?" Or, this one is fantastic, "why don't you just live on disability?"

But the chocolate and cheese one was definitely the strangest.
exhilaration: (me)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

"Indecision is fatal. It is better to make a wrong decision than to develop a habit of indecision. If you're wallowing in indecision, you certainty can't act - and action is the basis of success.” - Marie Beynon Ray
exhilaration: (me)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Ummmm yes I would consider it. In the end I would probably decide against it, but then again, I don't know what I'm going to look like when I get old or what kind of resources will be available to me. If looking in the mirror makes me unhappy, and it's something that can be changed, I wouldn't be opposed to changing it, but I think I do like my features so I think I'd be more likely to want something like laser resurfacing for my skin than actual changes to the underlying structures. I guess mainly my worries about getting older are that the plastic surgeries I've already HAD are not going to hold up forever, so eventually I may start to look very lopsided and strange, and at that point it might be more important to me to start rearranging things. There's a weird bump on my nose - I wish there wasn't but I don't want surgery on my nose. My jaw line is off center - I wish it wasn't, but I definitely don't want surgery on my jaw. My one eye is farther back in my head than the other eye, and I don't want surgery there either. But if it was something that really, truly, and deeply bothered me, then YEAH, I would consider getting it fixed/altered/whatever.
exhilaration: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Pain.

I take something to help me sleep, but when it starts to wear off the pain wakes me up again.
exhilaration: (Rose close-up)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Love.
exhilaration: (me)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Alaska, in the summer near the solstice when the sun barely sets.

Also, someday I'd like to see Japan, but that's a little bit cost prohibitive I think, being that if I ever find myself flying to Asia again it will likely be to China, and Japan would have to be like... a side trip or something.

Also, I've never been to the Caribbean and I'd like to see that part of the world someday.

Somewhere I have no particular desire to go? Mexico. I know there are beautiful vacation spots there, and I know you know that I'm half Mexican, but... I dunno. I guess my dad made such a big deal of getting AWAY from Mexico, even to the point that he can change his accent and sound 100% American if he wants too - it's one place I've never been particularly drawn to see.
exhilaration: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Strangers touching me!
exhilaration: (me)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Green curry with eggplant and mushrooms.

Very easy to make. Cube the eggplant, clean the mushrooms (I like the fancy ones, sometimes they come in a mix at the supermarket, like straw, oyster, baby bella, shiitake. porcini, etc) chop the rest of your veggies (like whatever you like, there's even stir fry veggies frozen in a bag in the freezer section) and once everything is cooked about halfway, add a can of coconut milk and a spoonful of green curry paste, a bunch of lime juice, and a handful of fresh basil. The recipe then calls for a dash of fish sauce, but worsechire sauce or soy sauce or something would work fine. Sliced tofu is good in this too. So is, um, anything. But I like eggplant and mushrooms.

Then cover it and let it simmer for like 15 or so.

Oh yeah. Make rice with this. You eat them together.
exhilaration: (me)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Umm, about eleven years now. His name is Matt, and I've known him since I was a kid because he was my friend Elizabeth's next door neighbor. He crashed her birthday party two years in a row and my mom saw him hanging out once in front of the Turkey Hill and said to me, "Don't you go hanging around with those teenagers who stand in front of the store all day!". He's a couple years older than I am, so I never saw much of him in school and only knew him as Elizabeth's neighbor for several years. The year Elizabeth died, we were in sixth grade and he was in eighth grade, and he signed my yearbook with his email address. For the rest of middle school he was in the high school, and when I started my freshman year he was a junior and we had no contact whatsoever.

When I got hurt, after I came home but before I went back to school pretty much all I did was go on AIM all night. I had his screen name because I had his email address, and we talked all the freaking time. He had this horrible girlfriend at the time, and I really enjoyed hearing about problems other than my own. So being that we talked every night, we did get to be good friends.

My mom would always tell me that he wasn't really my friend, that the people I talked to online were not real people and didn't really care about me. Even when we started hanging out in real life, she would insist she knew better than me, that he wasn't really my friend. Matt was never into artsy stuff like I was, so it wasn't lime we were inseparable, but he worked in a video store and that summer he would often invite me over to watch movies and drink at his house. His house was the first house I'd been in with my crutches, waayyy before I was any good with them, and it was the first time I'd ever drank alcohol. Later it was the first time is ever been drunk.

And then... Matt went to college. And lo and behold, guess what LJ? We are still friends. I visited him at his college several times, and I decided to go to college in Philadelphia because he was there. We have countless outrageous stories from those days, let me tell you. Then he moved to NY, and while we don't talk on IM every night anymore, and even go months without any contact, we are still friends. We make an effort to visit each other when we can - we meet in NYC sometimes, and I brought Bevan to his house once to meet him. He's been to my house in NJ, and actually he just recently visited me here at my new house.

He's the kind of person who likes everyone. Even though we're from a very stuck up area, he isn't like that at all. He isn't too good for anyone, and he doesn't judge. Of everyone I've been close to over the course of my life, he is the only one who, when I was doing stupid things and messing up my life, didn't judge. I never questioned whether he still wanted to be around me or still wanted to be my friend. Of course we were still friends.

And that's all for tonight :)
exhilaration: (me)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

people.
exhilaration: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Srsly Livejournal? SRSLY?

I've had such a hard time finding things to write about, I find myself scrolling through the writer's block questions looking for something to inspire me, and instead we end up with ones like "are you superstitious" that I just answer with one word: NO.

I have never, ever, EVAR in my life asked someone to change. If theres' something about them I can't put up with, well, if I reallyreally truly can't put up with it, I STAY AWAY from them. I don't tell them to change.

What would I change about my significant other? Nothing, not because he's perfect but because if I did, he wouldn't be himself anymore and I'd be living with a stranger!

There are so many things I love about my boyfriend.

Of course, he's sitting here watching hurricane footage of Asbury Park NJ telling me that he wants to surf in that... but whatever, he's safe and sound right here in PA.

I was going to say a bunch of other stuff, but, actually, I don't have any other stuff to say right now.
exhilaration: (me)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

No.
exhilaration: (me)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Never trust anyone with your heart, let alone your soul.

Still trying to unlearn that one...
exhilaration: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Regenerate. Duh.

Profile

exhilaration: (Default)
Lara I.

October 2012

S M T W T F S
 1234 5 6
78910111213
141516171819 20
212223242526 27
28293031   

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 25th, 2017 08:40 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios