Archive for Uncategorized

On and off and on again

Well, needless to say a lot has happened since I wrote this. The health issues continue, but it’s something I would rather not delve into at the moment.
Since my last post… let’s see… I came back to David in Canada, and we got married. Things started to go downhill shortly after. Well, in truth, they were already going down before that. But the moment of truth for me was when, during our honeymoon, he had a huge tantrum and guilt tripped me into having sex during the day (I wanted to wait until night time because I was having a really tough day with my bladder pain). He literally told me that he didn’t know if he could stay with me, and then gave me the silent treatment until I was crying so much and getting so horrified that this was happening on our honeymoon, that I just.. did it with him. That was very fucked up, and I still hate him for it. That was in June. Around September (this is 2011) I moved into the spare bedroom. When we moved into another apartment, I moved in with his sister and her boyfriend, and that was pretty much it. I literally had the clothes on my back, still no PR, no job, no family or even a friend to lean on, but at that time I would rather have died than continue to live with him. Then, I met Mark – a long story We dated for a while, and he ended up breaking my heart, though not meaning to. He has became one of the only (actually, probably THE only) person I feel like I truly know and trust. We are still good friends to this day, and I still love him like crazy. But again it’s something I don’t want to go into, perhaps because those feelings are still very much raw.. right on the surface.
When Mark and I ended things… well that was a shitty year. I missed him horribly and was super lonely. At least I had gotten my PR and had a job – thank god. I feel like working literally kept me alive that year (2012). It was all I had. I would literally get up, go to work (I loved my job), come home, chill out alone for a bit, go to sleep, do it all over again. By this time I had moved out of David’s sister’s apartment (well, he had kicked me out) and I was renting a room in a house in North York. It was a long, lonely summer. I had met Matt, and we had had such an amazing first date – we were both super excited at first, I think. We got along really well and the sex was out of this world. But he turned out to be THE flakiest person I have ever come in contact with. And that’s coming from me. After the first month or so, he would always postpone plans, be super vague about when to meet up, etc. I tired of it quickly, and told him to get his shit together. We didn’t hang out for a while, and then he messaged me once months later asking if he could take me to dinner to make it up to me for being a douche. I still really liked him, so I skeptically said yes. Alas.. he stood me up. I waited for 20 minutes in the cold, and went home. He then texted me like 10 times with lame excuses saying his bus broke down or something equally lame. That was it… such a shame, for someone with whom I had such amazing chemistry, both sexual and non, but I just gave up on him. Still have him on FB,  he comments on my stuff sometimes, randomly.
Shortly after I moved downtown, and met Dennis, who is wonderful…treats me like a queen, and is always there, always present.. and super loving and affectionate, which were all the things missing when I was with Mark. My sexy Russian soldier! Things have been a lot less lonely since. He doesn’t have PR, so we have been stressing out about that a lot. It’s likely we will have to be apart for a while while that gets sorted out. I feel like I’m living the immigration hell all over again – this time it’s not me, but it’s someone I love, which is just as crappy. I just really want things to work out so we can be together.
That was… a lacking summary of the last couple of years, I realize. But it’s better than nothing. So.. over and out.

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Stopped

Yet again I find my life has been put on hold. I’ve been back home for a while now, and feeling really unwell. Turns out I have a bunch of lumps in my breasts, 7 in total, some cysts, some tumors. Tumors are hopefully benign but not sure yet.. waiting to see my doctor next week to see if I need a biopsy or not. Obviously I am longing to be back in Canada but I know that if I do return I will continue to not have health insurance for at least a year (that’s assuming I get residency), so if something were to go wrong with this, (travel insurance won’t cover it) I’d have to leave, again.. do this all over again and it’s driving me crazy. Obviously this has taken its toll on us and our relationship. I can’t tell you just how much actually, but I’d rather leave that story for another day. Right now all I want is to get back there. I’m very scared about this whole lump issue of course, and that doesn’t help me feel any better. Also the fact that they recently found cancer in my uncle (that’s the 3rd person on my dad’s side of the family, after my grandfather and my father, to have it) and that is messing with my head a lot.

I’ve always felt like the whole Canada thing was too good to be true for me, that it was too much, that it couldn’t work out, I didn’t deserve it. I know it’s a dumb way to think but I guess I can’t help it. Things have been bad lately and I wonder if my feelings are coming true?

As scary as it is to be up there, I do want it very much. I’ve turned my life upside down to do this and now it’s all there… in stasis.. nothing really belongs anywhere… I don’t belong here or there anymore, I’m drifting. I’m tired of it, I want some sense of normalcy, of (happiness?). I’m so terrified my health may be the cause of this not happening. Of us not being together anymore. Of everything.

I’m feeling lonely. I haven’t been feeling well physically so I haven’t really been going out, even though I feel like it, I feel like having some fun. My friend Jessica, the one with all the foreign friends I love hanging out with, is MIA (I’m pretty sure she’s in Mexico because her boyfriend is from there) but anyway, I hope to hear back from her soon. I’d like to get together and have a drink.. or two. It’s been so long since I’ve had FUN, you know? It’s all been worrying, stress, sickness, sadness, worrying, stress, loneliness.. and I know it’s mostly my fault for friggin WORRYING so much about everything, I’ve never been good at handling stress, I admit it. It’s just a lot, immigration, culture shock ( for some reason people think that just because you speak the language well that must automatically mean you’re basically a native and must be familiar with the culture.. well, it is not so) , our relationship (the good and the bad), my health, etc.

I’ve zoned out and forgotten why I started to write this. I guess I just needed to get this off my chest. I miss having a life, you know? with a stable home, or job, or friends. Knowing where I’m going to be in 3 months. where I’m going to live and with whom. I’m paralyzed by fear. I guess I should try to have some fun while I still can.

 

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Remember Love?

CT scan results not ready until friday. Very very very scared..and lonely. I’m lucky to have my mom and sister at a time like this but god.. I miss him. I want to cry, and I know with him I can. I try not to cry in front of my mom because she freaks out. I know she’s worried sick but trying not to show it. The other night I woke up suddenly, very upset. My mom happened to be up too and had come into the room. She began to stroke my hair while I lay in bed (it’s not weird..we’re just big hair strokers in my family. It’s just an affectionate thing) and she must have thought I was asleep, but I wasn’t. I heard her cry silently. Then I knew really just how worried she is.

I know it sounds like the stupidest thing in the world to feel this way when you’re as sick as I am now, but I just miss…love. I miss being able to hold, kiss and make love to him. Is that really odd? I guess it’s just knowing that I can’t…when you can’t have something, you want it all the more. I think of him all the time, but it hurts..to think of our happy times together.

Which brings me to this. I had never read a romance novel in my life until well, now. Always thought they would be tacky, or corny.. something crazy cat ladies read.  Someone (back in Canada) was giving away books one day and insisted that this author was really good and I should give it a try. It had a creepy looking medieval castle on the cover and it appealed to my creepy side so I took it. And now, being away from Dave,  feeling so crappy and having nothing else to read, I tried it..and I actually enjoyed reading it. It’s just comforting to read about love. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic.. I guess now it’s just stronger because I miss having that.. love, touch, tenderness.

It made me reminisce..think of good times, even with some past lovers. I know that may sound odd, to think about people I’ve been with before, but it’s just less painful. Thinking of Dave just breaks me.. I want it all back so much.

I remembered things like my English friend that I was crazy about a long time ago. How much fun we had together in London. The weirdness of the situation – two friends who had 2 weeks together and raging hormones all over the place. We’re still friends today and neither of us has forgotten any of the stuff that happened then. I remember our first kiss, while sitting on the floor in his bedroom. And our second, after playing computer games together.  I don’t remember every little detail, but I rememeber what a good kisser he was. I love when a guy knows when to kiss you softly and when to kiss you roughly. It was all so intoxicating at the time. His brilliance, his magic tricks, his Oxford degree, his English accent, his everything. I admired him. I wanted to do things to him and he never stopped me.
I vividly remember the one night we had been over at his friends’ house – he had had just a little too much wine. I remember standing at the bus stop with him on our way home, late at night, and feeling, just.. sensing that something, something more was going to happen that night. I don’t really remember how it happened..but suddenly we we’re home, in bed together. It’s dark.. we’re half naked, sweaty, kissing hungrily.. his parents in the next room. He’s doing things to me and having to cover my mouth so we’re not heard. The moment is so perfect, so right. I ask him to fuck me, but he pulls away. He says he can’t, that he knows it will hurt me emotionally. That as much as he wants to do this, he doesn’t want to take advantage. He goes to his room and leaves me alone.

How do you get mad at a guy for that? It’s a sweet thing to do, right? I  wish he had listened..I was 20, a big girl, I knew what I wanted. I loved him, he didn’t, and I knew it. I knew that night was all I was going to get, but I was loving it. He couldn’t hurt me any more than that. We speak of it now, and every chance he gets he tells me how much he regrets that we didn’t sleep together that night. That if he could go back in time, he would have done things so very differently. I wonder how that might have been.

Then I remembered Damian.. He was such an ass, yet it was pure lust since the moment we saw each other. It was strange with him, I knew he wasn’t particularly attractive in a physical sense, but there was something about him. He had this aura of seductiveness that was, to me, impossible to resist. It was this raw, animal energy. He was like a magnet to me. We worked together – I remember him coming over to help me with a difficult call or something, how we would put his hand on my shoulder (he was such a flirt) and the moment he touched me it was like fire. Such a simple thing.. such a non-sexual touch, in the middle of the office, surrounded by hundreds of people, and it drove me crazy. I remember the day he texted me to ask if he could come over. I was terrified and ecstatic. We both knew exactly what he was coming over for. I gave him a tour of my (tiny) apartment and soon we were in my room. I was so excited. He actually turned out to be really bad in bed, but his seductiveness continued to trap me for months, despite that. How does that even make sense? I think it was just the idea of him. I had wanted him for months and I was finally having him. I remember one time he brought me a rose. I was so surprised – it was a romantic gesture and he was always so un-romantic with me.

And Frank.. oh, Frank. We weren’t just lovers, but we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend either. I guess our relationship didn’t have a label. We were just friends who enjoyed each other. I remember being very attracted to him since the first time I saw him, and thinking there’s no way in hell I have a chance with this man. He was 13 years older. 6’3″ , big, burly, sexy smile. Italian.. all man. Divorced and had 2 kids. He must have noticed my interest because he would stare at my breasts all day long and he would flirt in the most sexual way, in front of all our coworkers. He was a little crazy, but in a good way. There was always this tenderness with me. Before we ever slept together,  we would be talking, and he would stroke my face as we talked. And, you know, normally if someone does that you would be like, what the hell are you doing, but he was so…arousing. He thought of me as this fragile, sweet thing. I guess the age difference was quite a bit. It never bothered me. He was huge.. in every way, if that makes sense. The first time we were together, I told him he wasn’t going to fit inside me. I really meant it..  he was that big. He laughed and said not to worry, that he would be gentle. A gentle giant, that was Frank. I remember the first time – it hurt, but it was the kind of hurt that feels wonderful, because it’s so infused with pleasure. He was patient and waited for me to accommodate him. After that it was insanely good. But Frank didn’t just fuck me, oh no.. he adored me. He’d look into my eyes and sing tangos to me. He would write me beautiful, heart-felt poems and letters. He would whisper sweet (or dirty?) nothings in my ear in French while we were in bed together.  I remember he used to always talk about my eyes. I don’t like my eyes, I think they’re blah. But he used to always look down at me, and say “Look at these eyes! I love them so much! I can’t believe how sweet they are!”. He wanted to take me back to his hometown. I cared about him so much, but not the way he did. I had to tell him,  he understood, and left right away. It hurt when he did, I missed him, but I knew he deserved more. I haven’t heard from him in years, but I hope he’s happy. I always remember him with love.

Then there was F. My friend and I refer to him as “the guy that broke my heart”. She knows, she had one too. It’s crazy how much impact one person can have on you. Some people, such as Damien, come and go, and some stay with you forever..their eyes, their hands.. you just don’t forget.

F was absolutely gorgeous to me. Everything about him drove me crazy. The kind of attraction that, when you look at the person, they’re so beautiful to you it physically hurts. I remember the first few times we went out, nothing happened. Went to the movies, and I’m not sure what else. He was the first guy I’d dated who had a car and that was weird to me. He was an engineer..just graduated. During the first few dates, the sexual tension was so thick it was crazy. He was shy though, and I didn’t want to confuse him. He had just gotten out of a long relationship, so I held back. I waited for him to make a move, and after the 3rd date or so, I decided I had to do something or we would both go crazy. He had come over for dinner, we were sitting on the couch talking and I began playing with this bracelet thing he had on, just as an excuse to get close to him. I love guys’ hands, and he had the sexiest, biggest hands. They were just so…big. I would look at them and think of all the things he could do with them.  I asked him…You know..what are we doing here? I like you, you like me. But I don’t want us to end up doing something we’ll regret later. He looked up at me with his big green eyes.  He looked straight into my eyes and said the only thing he would regret is if this didn’t happen.

Then we kissed. It was the best kiss I had ever had. It was perfect, it was movie-like. He was an amazingly good kisser. Soft, tender. It was like he was in my head and knew exactly what I needed right at that moment. We moved over to the big couch and I expected him to want to just…fuck me, to want to take my clothes off and do it right there, but he didn’t. He held me. He went back to kissing me softly. He kissed my hands, my forehead. I felt like he had had all these emotions locked up inside for a long time and now he was suddenly unleashing them all on me. I was so moved by it, and it made me want him even more. Later that night we were together for the first time. It was fun and sweet. He had a sweet, laid-back disposition. I’ve only ever liked laid-back kind of men. But there was always this big tenderness about him. He was always concerned about how I was feeling. It was always so emotionally charged with him, and that was wonderful. I am awful when it comes to waiting – When I want somebody, I want them now. F taught me patience. Foreplay with him would go on for hours…2, 3, 4. Literally, hours. I’d never been with a man who would take so much time before. Usually I’m more impatient, but with him it was so painfully delicious, every second of it. He drove me insane.. I couldn’t control myself. I had a roommate back then, so we would go to motels to be alone together. He would do things to me until I’d be literally shaking, writhing with want, with need. And then he would always ask “Are you ready now?”. So funny.. Am I ready? I was ready hours ago. I was ready after the first 5 seconds of you kissing me like this. But the waiting made it all so much better in the end. He was big, too, and the pain and pleasure together were almost too much. Sometimes we’d be at home and my roommate would come home. It would be too late to go to a hotel, so we’d just say screw it and stay. I could never, no matter how hard I tried, keep quiet with him. I remember feeling terrible about it because my roommate was a guy, and he was single and I knew he was lonely, and I wanted to be quiet just so that he didn’t have to hear it, but I couldn’t. It was too much. When I would be on top, and he would come, he would pull me to him and look into my eyes and kiss me, and I loved it. He would always hold me afterwards.  He was addicted to my lips – he could never stop kissing me. He would say wonderful, sweet things.  He was just such a sweet, good boy. His parents were military, religious, and he had been brought up catholic..very strict. He had issues with sex..anything out of the very ordinary he felt guilty about. I’d ask him to do things that he felt were disrespectful to me. I couldn’t get it through to him that if I want it, then it’s not disrespectful. Still, he had me hooked.
We would talk.. it wasn’t just sex. One time we lay in bed talking and making out for 9 hours. Nine hours, and it felt like 20 minutes. He was rich, so he’d take me to dinner at fancy places. I still always wanted to pay for my half. We’d talk about everything. Our dreams, our fears..what we wished to do in the future. I remember one time we had a sort of break, went 2 weeks without seeing each other. He invited me over because his parents were out. His house was like a mansion, I couldn’t believe it. I never picked a guy over how much money he made. F just so happened to be extremely rich, and I didn’t know it until I saw the house. I thought he must think my place was so crappy.. I was embarrassed. So we had been kind of on a break up until then so it was sort of awkward. I wanted him terribly, but wasn’t sure if he did. We had dinner, watched a movie, and I said I would get going. He asked me to stay, and we went to his room. That night was so intense.. 2 weeks without him had been torture. Our bodies were starved. Things with him were usually soft, slow, his movements collected.  This time we were rough, quick, and turbulent. There was no foreplay, no waiting. It was like lightning.

Things fell apart shortly after that.. he had issues with his ex he needed to work out. I was sad for a long time. I still think of him fondly. I hope he does too.

And with G.. well, G was different. We were together, and happy for almost 4 years. We were very good for each other emotionally, but I never had that sexual chemistry with him. He wasn’t a very sexual person. We still had fun, but I always ended up mothering him. I knew it was wrong but, even though he was only a year younger, he was  like a baby to me. I loved him very much, but towards the end he felt more like a dear friend than a partner. We wanted different things.. in many ways. Leaving him was so painful, knowing how much he was hurting. Everybody thought we would be together forever. So did we.. Life’s funny like that.

Wow..that was cathartic. I know it must seem so creepy for me to blurt all this out right now. Obviously I can’t think of the happy times with Dave.. it kills me. I  want it all back.

I’m in such a dark place right now, and thinking of past happy things brings me some ..comfort? I guess. Makes me feel like a woman again. Right now I feel like just a broken body.

I need sleep…desperately.

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End

So, I think I have cancer. I know this probably sounds deranged for somebody to just… think that. But I feel it.

I was in Canada about a month and a half ago, with Dave, feeling just fine… and one day I started to feel stabbing pains all over my body and I stopped eating. I felt nauseous, couldn’t stand the thought of eating. I freaked out… obviously because I didn’t have residency yet I couldn’t go to the doctor for free. So we went to walk in clinics and even the hospital…. $1000 (which we didn’t have) and some really rude doctors  later and I had gotten nowhere. they did blood tests, urine tests and ultrasounds and it all looked normal.I still had the pain.. and still wasn’t eating. I had dropped 12 lbs.

I’ve looked online at all other possible diagnoses…anything else that this pain could be..anything, but nothing else really fits. Considering my dad and grandfather died of cancer, it’s not like it’s shocking, you know. But everyone, my family, Dave etc keep denying it.. keep acting all weird when I say what I think I have. It’s like taboo… the c word. Don’t say it.

So I had to make one of the hardest decisions in my life and leave Dave, and Canada. I knew this meant I couldn’t get residency, and that I wouldn’t see Dave for a long time again if at all… but I had to. I went to mybrothers house in SPain thinking I could get care there. (I’m a spanish, as well as an argentinian citizen). But it didnt really work out, and there was a lot of paperwork to do and long waits before I could actually see a doctor or have any tests done.

So, 2 days ago I flew back to Argentina.. the last place on earth I want to be right now. It’s always been disgusting and pathetic here but now, having lived in perfect-canada for almost a year, it seems so much worse. the dirt, the insecurity, the way the air smells like shit constantly.. literally.. you cant smell fresh air. you smell smog constantly.
I don’t have insurance here either.. I signed up for it but you have to wait a long time to get any advanced tests done.. or for example if you have cancer, it doesnt cover chemo for 2 years after you sign up. Great. so I know it won’t help. Staying at my aunts right now. I will probably have to go to a public hospital… as disgusting and depressing as they are. Will find out soon..

As for me, everything is the same… stabbing pains, adbominal pain (I’m pretty sure its in my intestines), dizzy constantly..I look like shit, and now I think I’m losing weight… not good. Now I have this pain in down my leg as well. Dave is miserable, and I’m devastated. We just wanted to be together, and happy.. I don’t know why this had to happen. I’m terrified, heartbroken, crying constantly…. David deosnt know how to live alone, without me.. he doesn’t and I hate it. I want to protect him from all this but can’t… it’s happening.

We take life, and our health for granted so much. When I decided to go to Canada to be with Dave I knew it was crazy and spontaneous adn it was so not like me but I thought for once I should do something crazy. Take a risk… I was young and it was going to be alright.

Well look how that worked out..

Why? 😦

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Feels like home to me / Un post bilingue

Wow it’s hot! It was 29, felt like 33 C today. I thought Canada was supposed to be cold and all 😉 And it’s not even summer yet!

We had an okay long weekend even though we didn’t do much.  We’re waaaay over on our entertainment budget this month with all the camping gear and wonderland and all.  So we rode our bikes, went to the library and checked out a couple books – he gamed, I read, and such. We watched the Argentina – Canada game online! And I had 5 boarders to take care of at the clinic so did that too..saturday, sunday and monday.

Worked on immigration stuff all morning today. SO much to do. The forms are endless and some are so unclear and confusing – I hate it. I normally freak out and get very nervous doing immigration stuff, but today I told myself I would keep my cool and I think I did well.  I have to remind myself I can’t  possibly get it all done in one day. One step at a time. I just really don’t want to have to be stressing about this when my brother is here. I want to have it all done by then. So I have 3 months.

Had a good night tonight. I miss not having Lost on Tuesdays already 😦 We had dinner early, and D was really sleepy because he’d had almost no sleep the night before with the heat and all. Went to bed, gave him a massage and he passed out.  It was cute.

I think I’ll write in Spanish a bit today.

Ultimamente estoy sintiendo algo raro. El otro dia fuimos a la biblioteca publica, y buscando otra cosa encontre un libro de espiritus animales y demas. Me intereso mucho – es algo que hemos hablado con D, el tiene los suyos. Me pareci interesante.. no, interesante no es la palabra. Es algo que me llamo la atencion, me sedujo. Desde que vi el librito no pude dejar de pensar en eso.

Estuve leyendo un poco online. Es raro, definitivamente no es mi estilo sentir..esto.  Hoy temprano leia una pagina sobre este tema y se me llenaban los ojos de lagrimas! Rarisimo, no se por que. Pero siento que detras de esto de los guias animales hay algo muy grande, importante, algo que tengo que seguir, investigar, no se. Siento que hay algo dentro mio que quiere salir y no puede, y que esta puede ser una manera de encontrar un camino.  Uf, que filosofica me puse.. que me anda pasando? jeje.

Hablamos hoy de eso un poco, me dijo que cree que todas esas huellas de oso que encontre en la nieve en el invierno significan que el Oso pueda estar intentando decirme algo. El oso representa la fuerza interior, la introspeccion, y la intuicion. Es gracioso que haya experimentado eso en el invierno, que creo que fue la parte mas dificil (por lo menos hasta ahora) de mi camino, en la que necesitaba fuerza interior mas que nunca.  El frio, el no conocer a nadie, la incertidumbre. Y el hecho de que nadie mas las haya visto, y nadie me haya dado bola al mostrarselas. Pero al mostrarselas a Dave, no tuvo duda que fueran huellas de oso. Y juro por dios, lo googlee. Eran de oso.

Le dije a D, I don’t know what to make of it to be honest, pero es interesante pensarlo. Por otro lado no me suena que Oso pueda ser mi animal. Es demasiado fuerte, sabio, pies en la tierra. Bueno, en realidad si lo pienso, si tiene sentido. El espiritu guia animal no debe ser un animal al que nos parezcamos – todo lo contrario, debe estar ahi para ayudarnos y guiarnos, en cuyo caso tiene sentido que sea lo opuesto a nosotros, alguien que esta ahi para recordarnos nuestro camino, para no dejar que nos desviemos.. no lo se.

Pero creo que debo prestar mas atencion a eso. Siento que necesito poder relajarme, entregarme, let go, como quieras decirlo. Necesito que todo el ruido en mi cabeza se detenga. Tengo demasiado ruido, demasiada ansiedad, demasiado nervio.. a veces soy demasiado racional. Siento que estoy trabada. Quiero relajarme un poco, pero no puedo y siento que todo esto esta relacionado con eso tambien.

Suena como un post de una persona loca, no?

Bueh, me descargue!

Ah, cierto, felices 200 anios, Argentina.

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Brotherliness

My brother may be coming to visit us for a week in early September! I’m so excited! Come September I will have not seen him in 2 and a half years! I’m sad he can’t bring Miranda along but I understand it would just be too expensive. Plus we don’t really have the room. But we would work something out!

It was her 6th birthday today.. I got her a pressie from Mastermind and sent it in the mail.  Seems like just yesterday she was 8 months old and I was in Spain changing her diapers!

Re: toys. I hate sexist toys! I was looking online at what to get her, and toys r us had the longest list of “your first iron” or “your first kitchen” or whatever sets. I realize that little girls sometimes like this stuff, but it’s just such a BLAH message. “Yay, look at this iron! Learn to use it while you’re 5, because pretty soon you’re going to be stuck at home cooking and ironing for your husband!” Urghh. That’s why I like Mastermind much better – they have better, educational toys and such.

So I REALLY hope bro can come. And that they let him through customs and all that stuff. He looks more like a terrorist than  I do! Haha.. oh the joys of being Spanish. 😛 Would be nice to see some family. And for him to meet Dave, too!

"Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too

Boys, you can break
You'll find out how much they can take
Boys will be strong and boys soldier on
But boys would be gone without warmth from
A woman's good, good heart

On behalf of every man
Looking out for every girl
You are the god and the weight of her world

Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too"

Love that song. Thinking of family made me think of it. :)

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On being away from home

What’s it like, being away from home? People keep asking me that. Do you miss it? Do you miss your family? And your friends? And speaking your language? And knowing where everything is, and all that?

Well, sure, I miss some of those things. I don’t miss the place much at all. I do miss the people, of course. I do miss being able to speak Spanish a little. I was never a big fan of my native language, just as I was never a big fan of my home country, but I do miss hanging out with other Spanish people, or Latinos.. anything. There’s something about being away from home that makes you feel (proud?) of your roots. It’s kind of like the World Cup. Argentinians hate each other and their country all year long, but come the world cup, we’re up against other nations, (and, of course, it’s football – hard to find something Argies are more passionate about) and suddenly, we’re all family, we’re all together, and we all love each other and our country. Why can’t it be like that, always?

There aren’t that many Spanish people in Canada, especially not in our area. A lot of Arabs, Chinese.. but latinos? Nope! Not that I’m complaining – I enjoy diversity, always have. Since I arrived in Canada   I have met some really nice people from all over the world: Russia, Italy, Iran, China, America, India.. and of course Canada! I have always had a fascination with people from other countries or cultures. I’m a foreign national fetishist, I guess.. hah! Foreigners have always just seemed more interesting to me. Which is kind of silly if you think about it – really, we’re all the same, right?

Anyway so yeah, I miss Spanish. I miss my friends’ goofy natures. I miss having a job. I do volunteering work now which I love, but.. I miss financial independence. (I’m not going to lie and say I was swimming in cash back home. But the little money I had was my own and I could do with it what I pleased) The whole not having my own money thing has proved to be one of the biggest challenges for me here. I like to treat and spoil the people I love, and that, in a lot of cases, takes money. Again, I’m not complaining..  my man has been so amazing in wanting to support us until this whole thing is over and I can finally earn some money. We have a roof over our heads and food on our plates and I am more than grateful for that.

Something else that I REALLY miss is.. feeling at home. Knowing where something is and how to get there if I need to. That is another big challenge I have here because I dislike feeling trapped. And that is how I feel a lot of the time. I don’t know how to get to a lot (I’d say, most) places. I can’t drive – I do take the bus, but I’m not familiar with all the bus lines yet, where they go, where they stop, where do you buy the tickets, do you need to flag it down or not.. yep, all these silly little things that you just DON’T know. And they add up, quickly! Suddenly you find yourself completely overwhelmed by everything and all you want to do is get on the first plane out of here and go home, where everybody knows your name. (Cheers?)

I’ve learned that what they refer to as culture shock is very real. I felt it in Minnesota in my teens, and I felt (feel) it now here. Again, especially with the little things. Like, my first  4 or so months here, going grocery shopping was insane. Grocery stores here are 10 times the size they are in Argentina. They have 50 times the items. The variety, the millions of things I’d never seen or heard of before is unbelievable. And it would happen every time, I would go in to buy a few things to make dinner with, and and suddenly I’d begin to feel completely and utterly lost because oh my god, I don’t know what half these weird food items are, or what they’re used for, and how you cook them, and I should know these things but I don’t and oh my god how and when am I going to learn all of this, and… you get the picture.

Maybe I just overwhelm easily .. yeah, that sounds like me.  😛

I do have days like that where I think – what am I doing here? This isn’t home. I would like it to be, but is it ever going to? Am I ever going to feel confident here?

And the one last thing I’m going to bitch about tonight (I guess you could call it bitching at this point) is that I feel guilty. I feel guilty being here because I feel like I’ve left my mom behind. I don’t know if that makes sense to anyone else out there, but I just do. I miss both my mom and my sister terribly, but I know my sister is young and strong and can take care of herself. My mom on the other hand is 66, and I keep thinking if something happens and I’m not there how is that going to make her feel? How will I feel? One of her children already moved overseas years ago, and now me. And if she had been horrible about me coming up here, maybe that would make it easier.. easier to get angry, to care less. But she was so amazing about it. So supportive.  So I’m torn between wanting to be somewhere else, with someone I love,  running away from corruption and murder and rape, trying for a better life for myself, and wanting to take care of my family.. because to me, family comes first.

I wonder when it is that we stop feeling like our parents’ children and begin feeling like we need to take care of them instead. For some reason it makes me sad that I feel that way – I wish my mom could stay strong and beautiful forever. But it’s the circle of life, isn’t it?

I know this sounds really whiny, but having said all of that, I love being here. Canada is a diverse, safe, open-minded and astonishingly beautiful country and I am  lucky to be here. I guess I’m just feeling homesick tonight.

Over and out 🙂

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