Raaachem.com | Boss Bizness

I started this Project 365 thing last year when I first learned about the app on the iphone.   Then I got lazy and the camera on my old phone decided it hated me and stopped working so I have a month and a half of blank space in the calendar.   With the new phone in hand, I decided that maybe I should ressurrect the tumblr acct specifically for this. 

My year in pictures..  Starting today. 

Raaachem.tumblr.com

I’d like to think of myself as a strong woman.   Yoga givin’ me muscles that I dunno what to do with and I could probably beat you in an arm wrestling match.  I don’t take anything to the heart.  And I’ve probably been through more shit than you could even imagine.  

Been there, done that, and gotten over it with thicker (albeit still soft) skin.  I can handle it.  It don’t phaze me.  Watch me overcome.  It’s nothin’.

I joke about my cold black heart but in all reality, its more a of a vice than a virtue.  The problem with feeling nothing is exactly that.  I. feel. nothing.

As as much as I can appreciate my ability to shrug off a petty remark about my weight, I can’t get used to not being completely blown away by a Jamaican sunset.   I should feel more but… I just don’t.

Maybe its just my jaded sense of reality.  Maybe its just that I’ve gotten really used to building walls and standing my ground.  Maybe I’ve just seen too much and been through too much shit because sometimes, I just simply feel… broken.   It fucking kills me because when I can’t be as happy as I know I can be, I just feel ungrateful — which is never, ever the case.   WTF is wrong with me?  I. don’t. know.

All I know is that I don’t need to be strong.  I don’t give a fuck if I’m strong.  I just need to be happy.     

Because although I’m never genuinely depressed about things, I’m never genuinely ecstatic either. I’m not sure how I feel about that.  In fact, I’m not sure how I feel at all.   I just know I’ll be alright…  cuz it’s nothin’.

“Deep down, when I face it, All I Want is You.”

(via Mars’ tumblr)

Just a few reminders:
- You’re going to let yourself down every once in awhile.  For the sake of your sanity, forgive yourself.
- Too much ego will kill your talent.
- Life isn’t always black and white.  It’s overcast, foggy, and all kinds of grey.  Get used to it.
- Knowing the right thing to do and actually doing it are two completely different things.
- Leaving you is loving me.
- Pretty girls can be SO PETTY, but I believe the prettiest girls are the happy ones.
- Just because I believe it to be true, doesn’t mean it is. 
- Love is just love.
- Listen hard.  The world around you tells you everything you need to know.  All you need to do is just shut the fuck up. 
- Life is just for living. 
- Sometimes you gotta jump if you wanna get lifted. 
- Just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to, doesn’t mean they don’t love you the best they can. 
- A real friend will always make the effort.  Always.

And lastly:
- “Don’t worry ’bout a ‘ting.  Cuz every little ‘ting is gonna be alright.” – Bob

Manny Pacquiao is my hero.  He small ‘lil Asian dude with a lot of heart and a LOT of fight in him.    Looking at him you wouldn’t think he’s anything, but slap some gloves on that fob and be prepared to SAY SOMETHIN…from the floor. 

Something about watching fights (boxing and MMA) gives me a raging boner. And watching movies like the Karate Kid makes me wish I never stopped taking Muay Thai.   However, the thought of ruining THIS pretty face reminds me of why I stopped in the first place.  That, and, my bf at the time made me. lol.     Although I like watching fights, the thought of actually being in one isn’t appealing. 

If you haven’t already guessed, I’m a 27 year old woman who’s never been into a fist fight.  Ever. 

I cringe at the thought of ever being punched in the face and growing up in the ‘burbs and attending private school my whole life (an all girls school at that) hasn’t really given me the opportunity to knock somebody’s lights out.   Brains over brawn and I’ll hand you your ass in a battle of wit and words ANY DAY.  

The only girl I ever thought about fighting forreal was my ex boyfriend’s sister.   Even though she totally woulda beat my ass with her third degree Tae Kwon Do ass, I woulda went toe to toe with her in a heartbeat.  You don’t fuck with my heart and she fucked with it in the worst kinda way.   But, I digress.

Fighting is for the birds, for the young, and for the walking testosterone.  It is also for mothers.   I have never wanted to punch a stranger in the face so much until this stupid bitch on the street made Adonis cry.   It took every ounce of strength in my body to not pounce on her like a hyena with mad cow disease.    The natural instinct to protect my offspring came over me and I went from “nice mom” to “scowling psycho bitch” in 0.00005 seconds.  It’s like the Manny Pacquiao Kababayan blood in me came out and I was jonesin’ for some blood.    

Lesson of the day:  Say somethin’ bout my baby boy and I’d gladly jump myself into the Fight Club in a heartbeat.  You don’t fuck with my heart.  Say somethin!   I fucking dare you.

SF!  COME OUT  AND BUY SOME DIGGS!    AND MAKE SURE TO SAY HI TO ME AND ABI WHILE UR AT IT!!!!! 

The view from my iPhone on this beautiful Sunday.

I like good looking people. I like ugly people too, I just don’t really talk to them.

It’s only 7:10 am and already, I know it’s gonna be one of THOSE days.  I feel like I’ve been run over by a bus.  More accurately, I feel like someone just died – that someone, being my ego. 

My ego disappeared last night along with my swag and my vanity.  Where did they go, you ask?  FUCK IF I KNOW.  Ego and I have been rendezvous-ing for months but last night , Ego and Swag stayed home and made tacos instead.   To make matters worse, I looked in the mirror this morning and see Vanity give me a big “FUCK YOU” as she placed a pimple the size of Mount Pinatubo on my forehead. 

I don’t know when the three of them will decide they like me again but for now,  its the end of the road for us.  *Cue Boyz II Men*  And here I sit, swagless and pimply on this Wednesday mourning.  

It’s cool.   I needed a swag check anyway. 

Moral of the story:  stay humble and expect nothing.  Rather be pleasantly surprised than devastatingly disappointed.