captainmelissawhat

[captainmelissawhat]

i probably shouldn’t post this, but i’m clearly doing it anyway

I won my work’s Fantasy Football game. This is nothing short of a miracle. Despite beating everyone’s ass into the ground, I will never play this game again. But why?

I didn’t want to do this. At the start of the season I heard chattering around the office about Fantasy Football and putting together a team. No one asked me if I wanted to join, which is frankly not surprising considering that I am me. By the day of the draft they were still looking for one more player. My co-worker swiveled around in her chair, giving me a big, albeit nervous smile. “Would you want to play Fantasy Football with us? No pressure but I thought I’d ask.” (This is not an exact quote. I have problems remembering exact quotes.)

I thought very hard about this decision... 

If I said yes it would mean embarrassing myself for several weeks, a not uncommon occurrence, but one I still hoped to minimize. If I said no, they wouldn’t have enough members on their team. I wasn’t sure, but it sounded like that may be a big deal? So of course I said yes. Since I am a human, I like being included in things.

I paid $20 to join the team, a Venmo transaction I described in the memo as “definitely not gambling.” The co-worker collecting the payments did not acknowledge my hilarious comment, which was a disappointment and what felt like a very bad omen.

Despite his obvious snub, I messaged him anyway. The IM conversation went a bit like this:

Me: I have no idea what I’m doing. Him: Okay, so the first thing you want to do is figure out which players you want to draft. Me: Who are the players? Him: Come here.

Oh god, oh god. Did he say players, like multiple people? You have to understand my only other experience in this realm was at a previous job. I picked which teams would play which games. There were brackets involved. I did one thing, one time and I was done.

I walked to his cube. Act cool Melissa, you’re in this. You got this.

He patiently explained some things that I don’t remember and told me I’d have to draft my players.

Me: “What’s a draft?” Him: “What’s a draft?”

There was a small ripple of vocal disbelief from a couple of my other co-workers. I looked up and scanned the room with my deer eyes.

Me: “When do I have to do this?” Him: “Tonight.” Me: “TONIGHT?”

What the absolute fuck did I just agree to. I walked back to my desk in shame and frantically messaged a friend, “I would have gotten more pleasure out of setting a $20 bill on fire.” (Again, this is not an exact quote. It may have been him who said this. He is much funnier.)

The co-worker who helped me out earlier answered my questions all night during the draft. What a champion, honestly. He told me the order in which to pick my players and also what TE, WR, and RB meant. I’m still not 100% sure what those positions actually entail, but I do know what they stand for. Let me demonstrate for the nonbelievers: tight end (no problem remembering that one), wide receiver (still somehow sexual), running back. Despite having an hour long anxiety attack, I managed to pick my players without logging off, crawling under my sheets, and suffocating myself with a pillow.

After the draft I didn’t think about it again for a full month. I had already picked my players. Football games were happening. What else was there to do? Until this:

A co-worker: Did you pick your lineup for this week? Me: What’s a lineup? Wait...this week? You have to do it every week?

I learned that yes, if you want to win (an important stipulation my co-worker kindly provided), you have to do it every week. For 16 weeks. 16 weeks. 4 fucking months. I wanted out immediately, but it was too late. The $20 already sat smoldering in my house of poor decisions. Despite this, I sunk cost fallacied myself into continued emotional connection.

I eventually learned that some players didn’t play for a week, which meant they were “out,” which meant I would get no “points” for their…”moves”? The amount of anxiety I experienced after that lovely piece of knowledge foisted itself into my nervous system is innumerable.

So here’s the thing. I built the plane as I was falling (is that the correct phrase? probably not) thanks to advice from very kind co-workers who I imagine feel just a little bitter about their assistance in my epic rise to fame. Some other fun statistics:

I watched zero games.

I don’t remember the names of any of my players, except perhaps...Olsen? Who may have actually been a benched player now that I’m reflecting on this.

I still don’t understand where the points (?) come from. I just know that higher numbers are better. (Is it the number of yards they ran? That sounds like something that could be true. If they use yards, how does it translate for other countries with football? Do they just temporarily shelve the metric system? Interesting question I will not research.)

I didn’t start to care until the final games (or...playoffs?).  But I found myself getting very upset when someone on my team got injured. A real thought I experienced: I spent countless minutes of my life picking my lineups and I’m gonna lose because someone got injured. What kind of sick fuck invented this game? I hated igniting my primal desire to win at the cost of someone else’s physical wellbeing.

So I ask myself…

Was it worth winning $200? No.

Would I do it again? Absolutely not.

But you did enjoy yourself, right? Only in the way a primate can.

Since my number one goal in life is to simultaneously run away from and cope with the fact that I share a ridiculous amount of DNA with a chimpanzee that smiles when it throws rocks at you (a real thing that happened to me), I simply cannot justify stoking my inner chimp for anything other than communicating and sex. And that’s just the goddamn truth.

~~~~~~~~

Proof:

[captainmelissawhat]

i overcame my extreme laziness and voted this election

Too bad I still live in Texas where my demographic is woefully under-represented. Wow, sorry I'm not rich. I mostly did it to make me feel good about myself instead of complaining when Wendy Davis obviously doesn't win. At least I fucking voted right? Put that on my tombstone when I go to an early grave from death by cynicism. According to my father, my tumblr post lacked an actual description of the haunted house I mentioned going to. Okay here it goes: 1. Terrifying closet - as noted below. 2. Lots of fog and smoke, couldn't breathe. 3. Multiple actors deciding THIS GIRL was the one they were looking for all night. I hope I made your job more fun you little shits. 4. Clown room, what. 5. Creepy displays, including but not limited to: graveyards, MENTAL ASLYUMS??, hospitals, DINOSAURS WHAT THE HELL, meat packing plant. 6. Chainsaw noises, lots of chainsaw noises. 7. Random waiting room with a band playing music dressed as wicked cool skeletons while sweating profusely. 8. A shitty attempt at a Saw movie game. Moving on -- I probably shouldn't have named this the Daly Melissa because I am neither motivated enough nor interesting enough to write a daily blog post. I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to use my last name, because I'm really excited for all future people and jobs to google me and find this glorious, permanent damaging of my reputation. There's a lot of shitty shit going down lately (aka always) so I want to take a moment to ONCE AGAIN advertise kiva.org. Seriously guys, why are you not using this donation/loan portal? People's houses are ruined in Gaza but you can actually LOAN money and help them rebuild their lives. Like seriously, how else are we as "basic bitches" from the USA going to make a difference? Stay tuned for another horrifyingly egoistical blogpost not tomorrow.

[captainmelissawhat]

haunted houses are just a reminder that I will be the first person to die in any emergency situation

I'd never been to a haunted house, until Saturday night, in which I sat in line for 3 hours with hundreds of other people. The weird thing about lines is...no one really has anything to do. You know we're all people-creeping. Everyone near you will eventually look at you for longer than one minute total. That has to make even the most confident person sweat, right? I like these leggings a lot...but it seems like that guy doesn't. And oh I'm sorry, is this plaid shirt and my girlfriend too gay for you? Yeah, you're right. I only worked on my hair for 5 minutes tops. Keep staring bitches. Anyway, when I was little my grandparent's had this really cool house in New York that has unfortunately been demolished and built over by a Dunkin Donuts. Isn't that funny how so many things have happened on one plot of land and you'll never know. You'll never really know what was there. Do those people eating delicious donuts know my mom learned how to walk across the same earth that has become a resting place for crumbs upon crumbs? I'm getting off topic. House. So inside the closet upstairs there was another closet with a teeny tiny door leading into the "hidden chamber" as I like to see it. And it was TERRIFYING. I've never seen darkness as solid as those times in there. There was also some sort of giant stuffed bunny doll thing with no ears and my cousin and I would pretend it was alive and trying to kill us and basically what I'm saying here is -- this closet was the scariest fucking place my 2nd-5th grade self ever experienced. The first part of the haunted house was walking through a dark, long closet full of old, dusty clothes. Immediately after I entered I was like...are you...are you fucking kidding me? They're just gonna throw this in right in the beginning of the thing? No build up? Nothing? And so I walk, walk, walk, already screaming even though literally zero things have happened except a clothes museum parade and then people START LEANING OUT AND SCARING YOU. IS THAT YOU SATAN, IT'S ME, MELISSA. JUST END ME NOW. Anyway, it was slightly less scary after that butttttt let's just say I never want be chased by a guy with a chainsaw in a meat locker ever again. I got a one dollar raise and I'm going to North Carolina this weekend, bye.

[captainmelissawhat]

So...I'm not in Mexico

I haven't written for awhile. Mostly because I am lazy, but also partly it shames me to admit I had to leave early. I don't know, it was just so lonely I guess? Where I was living was absolutely beautiful. I stayed in my own little one room apartment/studio thing. And sleeping with the windows open for the first summer of life was the best thing to ever happen to my internal weather heart. Anyway, Becca and I moved to Grapevine in September and I am so in love with getting content and okay with who I am and what my life is. I'm even more confused about what I should do with my career but the one thing Mexico really helped me understand is that I just need to keep moving and stop letting the inevitable wear me down. I've read about 10 books since being back, which I can say is my longest streak of literature experience since high school. Oh I got back in August. Oh so also I'm going to write in this blog with my pointless thoughts so it's not a travel blog so much as THE DALY MELISSA WHICH IS MY NEW BLOG NAME, OKAY COOL.

[captainmelissawhat]

perfect examples of why Tuesday is the day the Devil was birthed

So I want to start off this post by saying - Mom, I am 100% okay, nothing happened really, but this is totally something I have to talk about. An Earthquake happened this morning. I was mostly utterly confused because the idea that the Earth can betray my sense of balance was too foreign for my asleep brain to process. I remember sitting there thinking, wow damn this is pretty bad, I wonder if this building is at all stable, it sure doesn't feel like it. The guy who lives above me is running around like crazy. Am I supposed to do something right now? This is the emergency where I hide under something or lean against walls right. NO, NO IT IS NOT. That is the exact opposite of what you should do. Anyway, once it was over I fell asleep again and I'm kind of concerned by how I would have rather slept more than ran outside to avoid certain death. Or in my stupid case, slink off the bed and then crawl under it. (Just looked, bed doesn't have an under bed thing) So then I start driving to work, not me I can't drive here, laws and stuff and it takes 20 minutes to get there. Once we calm down about the whole earth violently shaking I start to realize -- oh my god, I am getting sick. No way, noooo way. Okay we arrive, wow I forgot to eat breakfast, good going. My boss fed us sweet bread, which Mexicans have fucking perfected the art of bread, but it doesn't fill you up and then oh goodness my brain hurts a lot, this computer is not going to help that. Oh my god wait, stop complaining. I wish I could turn my brain off but I think that's another form of dying, sooooo probably not. Anyway I debate all day whether I should ask to take a nap and I conclude probably not because I hate looking lazy. Wow caring what people think has once again caused me pain. Amazing! We didn't leave until 7:30 and I didn't get home until 9:30 because of Oaxaca traffic. I will never complain about highway traffic in Texas ever again. The conclusion of this story is that I am now sick in bed wanting to cry tears of PAIN because it feels like someone is pulling pieces of my spine off one by one as though it was a delicious cheese stick. I should probably talk about the huge holiday that happened these past two weeks, considering it's like the biggest holiday in Oaxaca but I don't know, my life is pretty important. I will do that next time. Every day I learn more and more of what I am capable of, of how strong I really can be. But it also informs me of how embarrassingly ignorant I am. Studying people and talking to people are so incredibly different, you would be surprised how humans are complex and ever changing in person...oh wait. No, that's common sense.

[captainmelissawhat]

transportation in Mexico vs. Melissa

So I went on a long distance bus trip and first of all, America why don’t you do this more, this is awesome.

On the first leg, I sat next to a French man who decided, you know what, this girl is very tiny, perhaps I can spread out across half of her chair and not make her feel uncomfortable! And then about three hours in, as I spent the majority of the time sleeping like a mummy hugging the wall like it was my personal boat to the underworld, he had the audacity to say “Don’t be afraid to stretch out or accidentally touch me”. I can’t promise that’s his word for word statement, due to the Dramamine and terrible exhaustion, but the meaning is correct. Okay dude, I know I’m culturally ignorant on a lot of shit, but that’s weird right? Not to mention while we were waiting at the station to leave, I decided to take my medication for my mental illness and then he SNATCHED my prozac out of my hand. “What is this! Oh prozac, tsk tsk tsk, this is bad for you”. Someone call the board of doctors, this man knows something about prozac you guys don’t.

He actually TSKED, with his mouth, that sound was actually uttered. Ugh. On the second leg, I sat next to a man who never at any point looked me directly in the eye. I slept wonderfully. Speaking of sleeping - I have decided on these percentages. When taking a long distance trip, 90% of the time is spent trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The last 10% of the time is spent sleeping uncomfortably. Without fail, these are genuine statistics.

Anyway, once I got off the bus I was directed towards a line of taxi drivers. Not the cars themselves mind you, because this is obviously a test of which taxi driver is the sexiest. Who would I like to sit behind for 20 minutes? Ah yes, this guy. I walk to the taxi and get in, with the help of a man of course because I am just a small, weak woman, and my huge ass backpack got caught on the door lining. You know that lining that keeps the door shut and keeps the wind out? Yeah. I ripped that entire baby off the door. My response - “OH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY, I’M SO SORRY, I BET THIS HAPPENS ALL THE TIME RIGHT. HAHAH ALL THE TIME RIGHT” and the driver looked at me and shook his head.

Anyway, I’m about to go to the grocery store and walk around like a lost puppy, so I guess you could say my day is going to be prettttttyyy busy.

Also do mummies dream of the underworld? I didn’t really study Egypt.

[captainmelissawhat]

i actually did something today

So I'm in Chiapas right now and if you're anything like me you have no idea where that is - it's a state in Mexico that borders Oaxaca. I'm here with my work and we're going around to local communities doing our talleres aka workshops about saving money and financial planning. I properly fitted into my role by being the white girl with an expensive camera taking photos! Mostly I just observed everyone and I swear to god I don't know how I STILL think everyone secretly speaks english and they're all just fucking with me but it's always there in the back of my mind. The drive here was approximately nine hours, which is a really long time to be in a car and not have anything to add to the conversation. So I just slept. The whole time. Everyone made fun of me, because who can even sleep that long in a car right? ME, are you kidding me? I can. But anyway it was very hot today, I think it's because Chiapas is more south than Oaxaca but I'm not a compass so I don't know. So basically it's the first time I've been outside really interacting with different communities and of course it has to be this day, the day of overworked sweaty pores. I tried so hard to pay attention in the workshop but once I can't understand the first 15 minutes of something I zone out. AND THEN I SAW A KITTEN. I wish I could explain how truly, truly difficult it was to not hop out of my chair, skid across the ground and cuddle the shit out of that kitten. It was only me and it for a few minutes, like a romance movie - the Spanish background noise faded away, the screaming chickens being chased by screaming children were muted. It was me and that kitten and I don't care if it didn't even look at me, I knew we were meant for each other. But I couldn't go play with it because I'm a goddamn adult. Ugh. So I miss Becca a lot, like more than I ever thought possible and it's really tiring because I just want to cuddle for forty hours but she's coming to visit in September (Or August, babe, or August maybe?) So that's right. Fuck you Mexican kitten, I don't need you.

[captainmelissawhat]

Just updating with a small message brought to you by Fluencia.com's stock photos. I'm studying Spanish online because my Spanish teacher didn't show up today, which is upsetting because I kind of really need to learn more but anyway this photo popped up and I just wanted to cry at how brilliant it is. The posing, the expression. She's looking straight at you with a sort of coy, maybe sexy, mostly devious expression like - "That's right bitch, I'm cleaning the household appliances. You want this? Look at this. Oh you don't, you don't like it. LET ME JUST GRAB THAT GIANT KNIFE BEHIND ME and murder you, because I've been lying all along. I'm not cleaning the household appliances. I'm cleaning a plate." It's been a long day in the sun.

[captainmelissawhat]

my stomach right now - "And you shall feel the truth of all your sins"

It’s almost been a month now. I think? I’ve been constantly sick the past few days/week in different, new, exciting ways. I lost my voice for a week which, you may not know this, puts a little bit of a damper on learning how to speak Spanish. I’ve had awful intestine problems which I won’t go into detail about but let’s just say, as I told my cousin, I feel like a newborn baby violently thrown into a fresh, new environment. Honestly, it’s made things really really difficult. I’m trying to keep up my positivity but I constantly feel like my mind and my body are shutting down.

But I’ve also been learning a lot, which is never a bad thing, no matter how depressing that knowledge is. The other night we were drinking near the square and it was 3 in the morning. A lot of people make their money by selling goods on the street - flowers, candy, cigarettes, toys. Families often have their kids help as well. Anyway it was super late at night and I was watching this family, two little kids and a mother breastfeeding her baby and all I could think was…shit I really hope they had a good night, I hope they made enough tonight. And of course I started crying, because alcohol and sadness are best friends. And because I dropped 50 dollars buying alcohol and food which is the most I’ve ever spent on a night out (yes) and I thought I was going to be MORE consciously aware of my privileges but instead I just keep living my ridiculous lifestyle and okay I’m done with that thought.

Everyone says the first month is the hardest so I’m kinda sitting here tapping my foot thinking, “Anytime now, Melissa brain, let’s get over it. LET’S DO THIS.” Which also mostly involves sitting in bed watching SHITTY Mexican Netflix, dear god who designed these show options?

My spanish classes are great but unfortunately they are expensive - I’ve learned A LOT so it would be awesome to go longer but I guess I just have to learn the natural, world way aka talking to people about real things. Also I think my teacher is a little frustrated with me because it takes me a good two minutes to gather my thoughts and it’s a private lesson so it’s literally just her staring at me, waiting for my intelligent, eloquent response. “Ayer, estuve leyendo un libro”. Take that and write a poem with it, because I am the most smartest awesome spanish speaker.

[captainmelissawhat]

i got sick twice this week

So I finally scrounged up enough courage to drop my clothes off at the lavanderia. This isn't necessarily a difficult thing except any new experience is unsettling and stressful so honestly the fact that I did it before I ran out of underwear is success enough. Anyway, I picked it up today and oh my god, this fabric softener. It smells like an entire field of flowers sat down and had a deep conversation with my clothes for 600 hours. Let's all remember that I'm allergic to fragrance. Literally, things that smell good unnaturally. It kills my skin. I'm sitting on my bed next to my clean clothes and MY EYES ARE BURNING. They are on fire. I cannot even imagine what is going to happen when I put these clothes on my actual skin. So it's nice that someone else cleans my clothes for me but I paid 44 pesos for poison. Interesting things: While walking down the sidewalk, if you can even call these paths sidewalks, I saw a man with his back towards me. He was perfectly situated on the corner, which means I had to force my body into his in order to shove him out of the way. I hate doing this, I hate bothering other people so I acted all apologetic and then when the bumping took place he turned towards me and IT WAS A CLOWN. I've had three strangers tell me that Vicks vapor rub is really good for mosquito bites. It confuses me every time until I realize I have scratched the shit out of my bites to the point where I have scabs now. I forget they aren't invisible to other people. Guess not! I was sick for most of this week including the hangover on Saturday which was nice because drunk me realized I'm not super shitty at Spanish but I'm also about as interesting as a four year old if one were talking in these group conversations.

[captainmelissawhat]

a lifetime of embarrassing moments - how do I not laugh at myself until I collapse

The funny thing about all of this is that I pretty much went into it thinking "Yeah this is going to be incredibly scary and it's going to be really hard, but I'll adapt." I can't say I imagined it would also be ridiculously EMBARRASSING. All of you bitches who complain about foreign people need to step foot in another country (not of your language) and try to do basically anything normal. Example 1 - Mexican Walmarts So you know how everyone knows not to go to Walmart on the weekend, after work hours, or maybe ever? I would have to say this holds true in any other country. Didn't stop me from going grocery shopping on a Sunday right in the middle of the day! For some reason, my perception of time when I got here was "YAYYY I'm in Mexico, every day is special and new and unique". And then the guy standing next to me in line looked like he had a really shitty day and I realized, shit, this is just a normal SUNDAY OH MY GOD this line is so long, where does the line even start or end? It's just a clump of people, guys. Just random pools of human bodies forming seemingly out of nowhere. I tried frantically to find the express lane, seeing as I only had a loofah, shampoo, and qtips. Turns out no one gives a shit about express lanes here either! I could talk more about my experience but I think I can really sum it up by saying it took me 20 minutes to find shampoo and just when I thought I've hit jackpot, I realize I'm in the baby section. Also you know the second most important rule of being a female? Second only to the fact that all women should be feminists and if they aren't it's actually because they are and you're dumb. Second rule - don't wear new shoes somewhere without breaking them in. I made this a female issue because I haven't met many men who buy extremely uncomfortable shoes in the hopes of one day enjoying them. However I fully recognize my inherent sexism in this statement and I will now no longer express that thought. ANYWAY I didn't listen and my 30 minute walk home ended up being one hour because my ankles were bleeding all over my tiny socks and I only managed to avoid extreme pain by walking in a rage-induced limping gait, periodically interrupted by growling animal noises. But taxis are 40 pesos and I never pronounce the street names right anyway. The economical option is often the most painful one.

[captainmelissawhat]

i´m not very good at spanish but i am reaching expert level at looking like a scared doe

Today I got lost in the city for one hour. I refused to ask for help, I refused to look like a lost tourist. And so…I walked around town in my shitty shoes pretendingggg OH YEAH THIS IS MY CITY BITCHES. Finally I stopped at a hotel and got a map. End of story.

I arrived on Wednesday and got lunch with some people I will be working with. First of all, Mexico City, you really need to work on your airport. The customs people told me my gate was M. As I proceed to casually (in terror) walk around I only see gates 70 to 75. These are not letters. These are numbers. And so my trip truly began.

First of all, it was smart going to Africa before Mexico because my expectations were very very low as far as societal organization and also buildings in general. Trash receptacles appear to be lacking, but who needs a clean place right? Just throw it on the ground. Little fairies come out at night and pick it up and put it in a special box that has an infinite amount of space and so all trash problems have been solved. Ingenious Mexico. Ingenious.

I had a bit of a break down last night, mostly due to the fact that I can’t communicate with anyone in stores or on the street. And it’s not even like I want to, you know? I don’t like chatting with people about nothing, but at least I know some things about nothing or at least know how to talk about nothing in the proper human way. I haven’t even been smiling and nodding and pretending I know what they are saying. I JUST STARE. I don’t blink, I don’t move. Stare. I’m getting better, it’s only day three after all.

In other exciting news I forgot my wallet in my hostel the other day and got in a taxi after work just being my happy self until I realized two blocks after that I don’t have my wallet and I don’t know the word for wallet. It’s true that you adapt to new situations because there’s absolutely no way to avoid it. It ended well but now I know I can get myself out of a jam. A basic jam, none of this gourmet organic shit. Just some processed strawberry jam.

In conclusion, I am the least cool person at this hostel and I really need to stop saying y'all.

[captainmelissawhat]

some things or something?

Hey soo I have a week left before I leave. Takeoff mode INITIATED.

I bought some pesos this week. Guys, Mexico has way cooler money than we do. I suggest we focus our government funding back on making our money look like THE best money. Although I saw the new 100 bill and I gotta say - not bad America. Tiny holographic hundreds. 100 in giant orange letters. Ben Franklin lookin all smug. We’re getting there.

Anyway I have money now so that’s comforting.

I’m going to the Casa Angel Youth Hostel when I get there. Number three on my list of new things I’m going to experience. Numero tres - hostels. How does this work? Do we just sit in our beds and sleep? Do we talk to the other people or no? Do I have to talk to them? I should. There’s like common areas too so. This feels like a grown up dorm.

I leave on the 28th! Awwwyeah.

[captainmelissawhat]

I quit my job on Friday, mostly because I need time to plan and organize my life because I'm going to be living in another country for 5 months and that seems to be a big deal I guess. Yesterday I got my Hep A and Typhoid vaccines. I would very much appreciate it if you sawed my arm off because I do not like POISON COURSING THROUGH MY VEINS. But the Tasmanian devil bandaid was almost certainly worth it. Oh so also I just called SEFIA, the organization I'll be working for. This is about how the phone call went. Me: HIIII! This is Melissa Daly from 2waydevelopment. Man: Hello, no this is SEFIA Me: No no, this is Melissa. Man: Who is this? Me: Melissa. I am Melissa. Man: Who are you looking for? Me: Paul Man: Oh that's me! Me: Oh good, this is Melissa! Paul (presumably): Hello! It's gonna be a big culture shock, I can already tell. Here's the truth - I'm a white female from the United States of America. That sentiment is tied up with many other facts and each one has shaped the blob of me. I've studied ethnocentrism, racism, cultural misunderstandings, genocide, and the cultures of optimism extensively. I've read about white guilt and the issues surrounding it. I've watched movies about charity and the pity and elitism that rides the ripples sent forth by misguided collective action. I am not ignorant. Yet nothing has stopped me from feeling bad about my privilege. Nothing has soothed the burn of undeserved comfort and warmth. This is why I need to do this. Beneath every layer still, this is all about me. But that's temporary, hopefully, because if I have the ability to succeed then the women in Oaxaca, who would like a little bit of a loan to start a small business in their communities, sure as hell deserve that success. And that has nothing to do with me - it's time for me to step down from above; to stand together and not apart. Maybe that makes me sound even more pathetic and privileged. Maybe I am just a small human. Well fuck that, I'll run barefoot through these streets and you cannot stop me.

[captainmelissawhat]

what is a mexico

The words I use are pretty much the same as those I used my senior year of high school because to a certain degree I truly believe "fixing" my depression completely shattered my ability to think creatively and push myself. Hence throwing myself into Mexico. I was thinking about parachuting off the plane to really solidify the symbolism of this internship. I am officially landing in Oaxaca on the 28th of May. Things I still have to do: -go to the doctor (?? wait still?) yes -make my car insurance not cost billions of dollars -find a hostel for the first week -brainstorm ways to cook actual food -don't try to practice cooking while still home, waste of time -question my international phone availability That list was for my benefit, not yours. Guys it's so hard not to just talk about my life on this blog. Mexico. Mexico. This is the point. BUT WHAT ABOUT ME, what about me! More people at my job have talked to me now that they know I'm leaving. Wow. What's your name again. I think I missed it when you never talked to me before. I feel like I'm dying, but in a happy way. Or maybe that's just what going abroad is to people. I also find it humorous how sweet and ignorant people are when it comes to understanding what a mexico is and how countries work and stuff. Science. END OF BLOG BYE.

[captainmelissawhat]

i cry like a woman but i still eat lunchables

The weirdest thing is being trapped in this tiny body. I don't feel small, I don't feel short, I don't feel innocent. And yet my immediate image to people, men in particular, is that I am a small little bunny rabbit that is somehow also perceived as sexy?? WHICH IS REALLY WEIRD. WHAT ARE THIS.

The day I leave for Oaxaca is getting closer and the panic has really smoothly settled into my organs in that even when I'm calmly sitting on my bed, I'm also calmly imagining all the ways I won't be able to cook real food and also not sweat to death. My cousin is buying my airplane tickets for me (thanks DJ, why are you the most awesome human?) which means I will officially be traveling and I should probably go get a medical check up soon, probably tomorrow? The problem is my new job is incredibly more demanding and stressful. Though I make more money, I have no extra time to ensure I am properly prepared for this experience. At this point I feel like I am an insurance robot preparing to become a traveling anthropologist who is smart and shit. Tiny caterpillar into a goddamn bald eagle if that's even possible.

It's not, but when were my metaphors even remotely accurate?

I've been getting to know myself a lot the past few months. Finally accepting that I am gay, overwhelmingly in love with my girlfriend in a way I've never experienced before, and taking on both a new language and a new mindset. But honestly, I've sat idle in my life for too long, critiquing the society I live in while I use too much shower water and reap the benefits of being a middle class white girl. Oh you want this soda, here it is for free. Oh no, the elevator is closing but we'll let you in at the last minute cause damn look at those boobs. 

I want to talk more about how I came to accept that I was stupidly, obviously gay torturing myself to love men, but I'm about to get cheese fries with my best friend Sarah, so guess you're gonna have to keep not caring at all about my silly life!

El conejo tiene hambre. YEAH I SPEAK SPANISH. 

[captainmelissawhat]

I know that's not mona lisa

I just wanna start off by saying I know that photo with my face on is not the mona lisa. But I’m going to continue setting it up this way because I do not give a shit.

P.s. I care a little. I’m smart.

I’m practicing Spanish as much as I can and I’m real ace at all my online lessons. But then I watch YouTube videos or hear Becca speak in spanish and it’s like slamming my head into the ground and then trying to find the little tiny pieces of my skull in a wheat field. Those tiny bone fragments are my knowledge of vocabulary and verbs.

Also I’m trying to find clothes that are good for sweating, formal enough for work, and not at all slutty. So basically nothing I own.

Clearly I am almost ready to leave for Mexico in like 3 months.