Month: June 2024

Overexposed: A Self-Love Project.

Overexposed: Mid-Year Self-Aware Check-Up, Oh My!

liz

Picture this: It’s January 8th, 2024 around 11pm-ish living your last half hour in your 20’s. You reminisce about the last decade; every milestone you hit, every heartbreak you experienced, every defining moment that makes up your identity. I was very local about my 20s specifically; most of it has been documented in almost 1,000 blog posts in the course of 7 years. So now it finally hits midnight; it’s January 9th, 2024, which now makes you 30 years old. You take a deep breath in and turn off your bedroom light for the night: welcome to another year of life, and the first of your fuckin’ 30s.

Fast forward and it’s now June 27th, 2024 (hypothetically speaking if you know my blog posting habits) and you let out that same deep breath. Only this time, it’s followed by a, “goddamn, it’s already gonna be July?!”

Hi, my name is Liz, this is my mid-year self-aware check-up post as we are nearing the middle of the fucking 2024 year. That’s crazy, y’all.

I started off the year going to California to celebrate my 30th birthday. I was so excited to scratch of another place off of my bucket list to travel to. It was the first time on a flight across the country, landing in a different time-zone than my own back in NYC. That particular trip kickstarted is whole want to travel more and see different places. Of course there was no place like home, but I also knew when it was time to get out of the city and go to a different one. This summer, I’m planning on taking another trip! This time, it will be some place along the east coast; something local. As the time I am typing this, nothing is set in stone yet, but of course once everything comes together, pictures will be taken and a travel diary will be written for the blog!

In February, my sibling and I went to go see Chicago on Broadway, of course when Ariana Madix was Roxie Hart! I’m a big Vanderpump Rules fan and Ariana has been a fan favorite since the beginning of her run on the show. She was amazing, so amazing that she even got called back to do the show again in August. Needless to say, this was our first Broadway show in about 17 years; it was a nice change from the loud concerts I attended last year… although I’m literally going to a concert within weeks of me writing this.

Speaking of going out, I (successfully, kinda) went to another party! Back in April, I was invited to Obie’s “Back to the 90’s” party, and I (successfully) did not have an anxiety attack. Of course, whenever I go into these type of settings, I am constantly judging myself and thinking about ways to improve in the future… that’s where the ‘kinda’ part comes in. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve come a long way since being 22-years-old nearly crying my eyes out of its sockets after being at a birthday party with no coping mechanisms whatsoever. I simply now have goals when going into any social gathering, which is just being myself as much as possible.

I’ve learned that I don’t need to get up and dance with a random stranger just to have a good time; instead, I can sit in my seat and dance along to the music and fill up my social cup with just that. I don’t need to mingle and make myself socially available in a party if I know that my battery quickly drains. I’ve learned a lot about myself just by going out and being around more people these days, and I think with more practice and using better techniques to get through a social setting, I will be able to actually walk out of a party having had a good time. I don’t want to have to think my every move; parties are meant to be fun, not work. But again, I am proud of how far I’ve come, as past versions of myself would have not gone out of her way to do. These days, I tag along to studio sessions and witness music tracks being made. These days, I walk around the Downtown neighborhood and stop at a happy hour after a long day at work. I feel like I am embracing my social life more than I ever did in my 20s, whihc isn’t too far off from my “late bloomer” brand.

On top of everything that I’m doing in my social life, I am also working towards growing as a professional. Late last year, I decided that I wanted to go back to school to pursue getting my doctorate degree once I settled into my current position at my job. While that is more of a long term goal, one of my short term goals was to take the Notary Public Exam and pass it to get my license. I spent most of March and April solely studying for this exam, and ya girl passed! It was a nice add-on to my ongoing quest of becoming a more well-rounded professional in the field I work in. It was nice to know that my workplace has supported me through the various processes in my professional development. Having set goals like growing professionally allows me to focus my energy and my task-driven brain towards something that will benefit me in the long-run. No more of the day that I would think mindlessly without any real reasoning behind it.

Mentally, I’ve been pretty good this year (so far). Of course, I am naturally dealing with things that just come with my age: needing more independence on the things that I don’t already have, unlearning some of the behaviors and beliefs that we as children were embedded to think and believe, and in a general sense of what my 3rd decade of my life looks like. I already feel like it’s drastically different than my 20s, and I am hoping that I continue to better myself in different aspects of it: socially, professionally, liz-ally.

Some things I am looking forward to as I write this: my first concert of 2024! By the time this is posted, I would have gone, but I am going to see Tomorrow X Together (TXT) in the city this June! Of course, I am nervous to attend such a huge K-pop concert like theirs, but I am more than excited to cross another artist off of the list I am looking to see live in concert. Some concerts I’ve gone to in the past include Kelly Clarkson, Pentatonix, ITZY, Demi Lovato, NMIXX, Jonas Brothers, and Woodz; a nice little list of people, might I add. I’m also going to take the well-needed PTO and go on vacation this summer. I’m hoping all of our plans go as planned, but needless to say I am just excited to do something during the summer since I haven’t done anything super Summer vacation-like in God knows how long. All I know is that I want to be in someone’s bar with a drink in hand and sunglasses on.

And I think that’s it! I guess check back in December (Twelve Letters of Lizmas, even?) to see how the latter part of the year went! Haha!

Until then!

Black Sheep in Society: Season 2

Blasphemy of Black Sheep: A Micah Monologue.

liz

The weather was getting nicer, which meant that I was more comfortable taking my motorcycle out more to get to places. Sure, I didn’t have my motorcycle license just yet, but if I’m able to drive a bulky ass car without getting into accidents, then I would say that my driver’s license was just fine driving this dainty motorcycle. I also really wanted to take it out to show Rosie; it would be her first time seeing it, and I was excited to see her reaction to it.

Rosie and I’s friendship has been really good these past couple of weeks. The more that I allowed myself to support Rosie and just be her friend, the softer she has become. It’s like she’s allowing me to see a different side of her; one that not many people get the pleasure in seeing. Rosie has always had a hard exterior to the point she is deemed unapproachable. For some reason, that quality about her made me want to get to know her, and I’m glad that it did because Rosie is so fucking cool.

I drive down Rosie’s block, slowing down once I get to her corner. I looked up to her apartment window and see the curtain from inside is blowing in the wind. I smile before cupping my hands over my mouth.

“Yo, Roe!” I shouted out toward her apartment window, hoping she could hear me. It wasn’t long after that Rosie poked her head out the window; her curly brown hair with her colored streaks blowing in the wind.

“What the fuck is that you’re next to?” she shouted back. I look at the motorcycle next to me before looking back up at her.

“Your ride for the day,” I answered, smiling. “Come on, Juliet! Your chariot awaits!” I can hear Rosie laughing before she puts her head back into her apartment. I couldn’t help but feel good in this moment. I couldn’t help but just smile.

I look up and see Rosie closing the front door behind her. She runs down the stairs to finally meet me at ground level. She immediately looks at the motorcycle.

“Micah,” Rosie begins to say. “Where the hell did you even get a motorcycle from?”

“She’s not just any motorcycle, Roe; she’s my baby, Suzanne,” I explained, running my hand down the side of the motorcycle.

“Suzanne?” Rosie repeated. “Is she supposed to be your hot, cool motorcycle, or your middle-aged aunt from the 90’s or something?”

“Oh! So you got jokes now, I see,” I said, crossing my arms along my body.

“Yep,” Rosie said as she put her bookbag on her back before walking around the motorcycle. “Thinking about changing career paths and becoming a comedian.”

“You gotta go to clown school for that,” I began to say, getting ready to get on the motorcycle. “I’m sure you’ll get in.” Rosie nudged me on my shoulder as I laughed. I slapped the seat behind me, inviting Rosie to sit down. “Come on.”

“Wait, you were being serious about riding this thing?” she asked, pointing at the motorcycle.

“No, I was just coming to show you it; we’re gonna be walking,” I said, being sarcastic. “Ofc course we’re riding this motorcycle.” Rosie slowly walks to the motorcycle, looking a little nervous. I handed her a helmet hat I packed inside of my bookbag.

“Are you sure this safe, Micah?” Rosie questioned. I rolled my eyes, strapping the helmet onto her head.

“If you keep this on, then yes,” I answered, smiling as I buckled the strap on her chin. I turned around to get in position before starting the motorcycle. I immediately felt Rosie’s arms wrap around my body. It caught me off-guard at first, but then realized she is doing that to prepare herself.

“Ready?” I asked one last time before we took off. She nodded her head yes. I smiled, turning back around and began driving. It took Rosie a couple of blocks to get the hang of it; she didn’t viciously grab me as we continued riding down the streets of Brooklyn. I can tell she started to enjoy it as she kept happily screaming every now and then when the motorcycle went fast. Her hair blew in the wind as we kept driving; her excitement made me smile.

…

We finally make it to the Oxygen Lounge after picking up some party supplies. The day of the party was quickly approaching and Rosie and I needed to get the important things out of the way. We sat in our usual spot, and I couldn’t help but laugh at Rosie; her hair was fluffy and sticking out from every different angle. She attempts to flatten it but fails miserably.

“Curly hair problems, huh?” I asked, taking a menu from the table to hand it to Rosie. She rolled her eyes as a response.

“Dude, you don’t even know,” Rosie said, letting her hair do whatever it wants. “It has a mind of its own.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I responded, flipping through the pages. “That’s why I locked my hair.”

“You have naturally curly hair?” Rosie asked, seeming shocked. I nodded my head.

“My mom has wildly curly hair; I was cursed with that gene,” I explained. “It was getting to be too much of a hassle but I didn’t want to cut it short. So, I just locked it.”

“I cannot picture you with like a military style haircut,” Rosie added, flipping through the menu now. “Like, your head–“

“Don’t even say it, Roe,” I interrupted her, knowing exactly where this is going. Rosie burst out laughing. “Like for real.”

“Say less,” Rosie said, before closing her menu book. “I know what I’m getting; you ready, egghead?” I couldn’t help but laugh; Rosie knew exactly how to joke without actually making it known she was joking.

“I think I got my order down, Cynthia,” I joked back, Rosie kicked me from underneath the table as I started to laugh. We quicky called a waiter order and gave them our order, which was our usual for the lounge.

“So about this party,” I began to say, getting straight to business. “We should meet up like an hour i advance to get everything set up and decorated. How are we doing with ticket sales?”

“They’re good; could be better,” Rosie said, scrolling on her phone. “We have about 20 people already on the list.” I cocked my eyebrow up.

“Not bad for two nobodies throwing a party,” I said, flipping the pages of my notebook. “You got the camera ready for the project?” Rosie nodded her head.

“Yep, I was able to have Hudson grab it for me when he visited from Philly. Hopefully it still works,” Rosie said out loud to herself.

“Is photography just another art outlet you took on?” I asked.

“Not necessarily,” Rosie tilted her head to the side, looking down at the table. “You want the truth, or do you want the answer I give to everybody?”

“Give me the answer you feel most comfortable in telling me,” I answered back. I was afraid to hear Rosie’s reason why. Everything that Rosie admitted about herself just was heartbreaking, to say the least.

“I actually wanted to document my life in Philly,” Rosie said. “I also wanted some insurance just in case anything happened to me.”

“Insurance?” I asked. “For what?”

“As a runaway, you always need some type of insurance just in case you went missing,” Rosie began to explain in a nonchalant way. “People didn’t care about the teens that go missing when they live in the streets. They are just deemed as human garbage and one less teen on the street meant that the street was getting cleaner.”

“That’s a fucked up way to think about it,” I commented. “I guess you didn’t need your camera when you came to New York.”

“Yeah,” she added, taking the camera out of her bag. She smiled as she looked down at it. “I specifically told Hudson to leave the old film back at home; I didn’t want to get the urge to develop those photos.”

“It’s understandable,” I reassured. “Well, I’m glad that your camera is now serving a new purpose.” I smiled at Rosie. She lifted her camera up and took a picture of me sitting across from her. She looks at the screen, flipping around so that I can see the picture. I couldn’t help but smile; laugh even.

“I look like a kid who went out to dinner with his mom after school after getting a passing grade in Math,” I explained as I laughed. Rosie couldn’t help but laugh either.

“Dude, the imagery,” Rosie laughed as she looked back at the picture. We had to have been the loudest people in the lounge this afternoon, but we were definitely having the most fun together. I hope it stays this way.

…

I can hear my phone vibrating nonstop on my nightstand, which was beginning to piss me off. This particular week had been rough; midterms on top of midterms on top of assignments that needed to be made up. All I wanted to do was sleep in this one Friday I had no classes. I sucked my teeth and flipped over to face my nightstand, grabbing the phone without even knowing to it was.

“Yo, wtf is going on?” I answered the phone, angry but half asleep.

“Yo, Micah,” The voice says over the phone. It’s Tanner. “You gotta get up.”

“Tanner, I don’t have time to play referee with your girlfriend,” I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Listen to me, man,” Tanner said, seeming a bit serious. “You gotta see what I saw when I went to the corner store.” I sighed as I was just about to hang up the phone. “Did you get my text?” I take the phone away from my ear and minimize Tanner’s call. I opened up my messages to see that Tanner had sent me a picture. I open the picture and that’s when I fully wake up. “Like, I’m not trippin’, right?” I hear Tanner said over the phone.

There it is: a magazine with a picture of Rosie and I at the corner with the title, Tired of limelight partners? Kalia Holder’s ex-boyfriend hanging out with Prescott Jones’ girlfriend.

“Fuck,” I simply said, jumping out of my bed.

y2katalogue: The Tapes

Tape #20: The Truth About Pep.

liz

Milo walks into the rehearsal space for their after-school band practice. Milo is normally the first to arrive to practice; today, someone has beaten him there first.

Milo looks at Danny, unpacking his things to set up. Danny turns around and nods at Milo.

Danny: What’s up, dude.

Milo: Hi.

Awkward silence.

Danny: Ready for practice with the girls?

Milo: You mean our band? Yeah.

Danny turns back around to set up his equipment. Milo does the same at the other corner of the space.

Danny: Nicki was telling me how the last show had a good turnout rate, like audience wise.

Milo: Well, she does help with recruitment. She knows how to do her job…

Danny: Yeah… I guess…

Milo rolls his eyes as he sets up his guitar. Danny watches Milo’s moves. Milo notices it from the corner of his eyes.

Milo: You good?

Danny: I’m fine, just wondering why you’re taking out your violin for a band practice…

Milo looks down and finally notices his mistake. He quickly closes his case and begins to take out his guitar.

Milo: With all due respect, you really need to mind your business–

Danny: Just because you say it, doesn’t mean that you mean it.

Milo turns around and faces Danny. The facade is down.

Milo: Seriously, Danny; why did you even audition to be in the band? Why would you join a band that a girl you weren’t dating, but fucked, and then had the whole school know what happened? In what world does that make sense?

Danny: I’m not in any place to tell you what exactly happened because I wouldn’t discredit anything Pep–

Milo: *annoyed* Jennifer–

Danny: She was the one that said I can call her Pep, by the way.

Milo: She wouldn’t dare to, only her closest friends get to call her that.

Danny: Well maybe you should ask her why she allows me to call her by that nickname.

Milo: *dismissive* I’m not fighting with someone who literally does not know what they are talking about. *shouts* You used her, dude! Like, do you realize that Pep was head over heels for you and you just went and did what you did to her?

Danny: Rightfully so that’s none of your business. What happened between us doesn’t concern you.

Milo: *yells* She’s my best friend, jerk bag!

Danny: And she was my ex-girlfriend!

Milo: Now you’re talking to her best friend? Like what kind of guy are you even–

Danny: How about you ask your best friend to tell you the entire story, huh?

Milo stops talking; confused.

Milo: She did–

Danny: It’s not my place to tell you anything that she hasn’t told you, but maybe there’s an actual valid reason why we forgave each other and moved on from that.

Moments later, the front door of the rehearsal room opens and in walks the two girls. Jennifer looks up and smiles at the boys.

Jennifer: Sorry we’re late, Nicki had to stop by her house to get her guitar.

The boys don’t say anything; they get into their places. Danny gives Nicki a hug, greeting her. Milo side eyes the couple.

Milo: Let’s get this rehearsal started already…

Jennifer looks at Milo, waiting for him to move the microphone stand to her as he always does. Milo looks up at Jennifer; confused.

Milo: What?

Jennifer: The mic?

Milo: Oh–

Milo moves out of the way so Jennifer can get it. Jennifer looks at him, even more confused now.

Jennifer: Really, Milo?

Milo: *annoyed* What? Just grab the mic stand.

Jennifer passes Milo to grab the stand.

Jennifer: *whispers to Milo* The hell is your problem?

Milo: Nothing.

Jennifer: Clearly something is bothering you; what did I even do to you?

Milo: Nothing, Pep; for fuck’s sake.

Jennifer: *annoyed* So now we lie to our best friends?

Milo: Do we?

Jennifer looks at Milo and doesn’t respond back. She tries to read the expression on his face. Nicki is heard calling the band together.

Nicki: Okay, band; let’s get this rehearsal started.

Milo and Jennifer walk away from each other , getting into their positions before starting the first song of the rehearsal.

The Teenage Monologues: Season 2

Permanent Daddy Issues: A Sophie Monologue.

liz

My father was the person that introduced me to the violin.

My father played music on the side whenever he wasn’t on a busines trip of some sorts. Back in the UK, I used to stare at him play the violin through the screen door leading out to our backyard. The sound of the wind gliding through the trees and the high-pitched chords he used to play always fascinated me as a child. One day, my father noticed me sitting by the door watching him. He smiled as he opened the screen door and picked me up from the ground.

“You’ve been watching papa play this entire time?” he asked me, smile on his face. I nodded my head, pointing at the violin on the patio table. He placed me on his lap as he grabbed the violin, allowing me to touch it. I touched the strings of the violin gently, amazed on how thin they felt on my tiny fingers. “Let me teach you a note.”

…

I sat in my bedroom with my violin on my bed. The case is buckled close. I was frozen in place, just staring at the violin case. The rain was coming down pretty hard today, which was expected for weather in the Spring. I sighed loudly before getting up from the bed, walking toward the window to close it shut. It was now completely silent in my room; not even the sound of rain was present.

It rained the night I heard the front door loudly being knocked on. I got out from my bed, scared for my life. We had only been in America for three months and I was afraid that something had happened, like deportation or something along those lines. I quietly walked out of my bedroom door, slowly walking toward the end of the hall to look downstairs. I don’t see much of what was happening, but there were at least a dozen officers near the front door. Of course, all I could see is my father being handcuffed. All I could hear is my mum asking a million questions to the man in the suit.

I hear a knock on my bedroom door, which makes me turn around. My mum walked in, poking her head in between the doorframe.

“Soojin,” she said softly. I don’t say anything back. She sighed before she walks into my room completely. “Do you want some ramyeon for lunch?”

“I’m not hungry,” I said, not looking at her.

“You haven’t eaten more than kimbap in the last day,” she recalled. “You have to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry!” I turned around and yelled at my mom. Her eyes widen, obviously shocked about me talking back to her.

“Ya, watch your tone when speaking to me,” my mum said stern, letting this one time slide. “I know you’re upset about your father–“

“No,” I corrected. “I’m upset at my father…”

“You shouldn’t be too hard on him,” she insisted.

“Why not? He made these choices! He has to live with them!”

“Soojin, it’s not that simple,” my mum tried to explain. “Everyone has to fight their inner battles–“

“Going to jail for five years wasn’t a choice?” I argued back. “Committing a crime wasn’t a choice that he made?”

“You do not know the entire story,” my mum responded, now getting upset with me. I didn’t care anymore about how she felt or what she wanted me to feel regarding my father. I was getting older, which meant I was able to understand things and have my own opinion on situations, especially the ones your parents tried to influence you towards. “You mean the world to him, Soojin–“

“He left me, mum!” I yelled again. “He wasn’t thinking about me when he decided to do the things he did! He wasn’t considering how this would affect me growing up, or how he wouldn’t be there for my graduations! Showcases! Birthdays! Nothing!” I was on the verge of crying now. “I should not feel bad for a person who actively made those decisions, and then made the decision to make us feel sorry for him by trying to end his life in jail!”

That’s enough!” my mum yelled back at me. “He needs us the most right now, and if he were to find out that you said all of these things or haven’t forgiven him for what he’s done, he would feel absolutely terrible.”

“I don’t care,” I spat out, aggressive as each word left my mouth. “I don’t forgive him, and this stunt he pulled off doesn’t change anything.” I turned back around to face my window; the rain hitting against the glass even harder now. I wanted to come off as this strong girl, holding people accountable for their actions when they should be. But he’s my father. He was my entire world. He was my inspiration, my muse.

My mum didn’t say anything after that. All I heard was the bedroom door slammed shut. This is the start of it all: permanent daddy issues.

…

It was weird to go back to school after being away for a week. Life continued without me being at Waverly; other classmates roam the halls with their friends and chatting among each other, going to their next classes in between the bell time. I felt frozen in time; my mind and body were still stuck in time from two weeks ago, especially after walking past the main office. My next class of the day was the class I was dreading the most; band. I had no desire to play the violin today as it did nothing but remind me of my father, back in the UK, playing out in the backyard.

I entered the class and went straight to my seat. I took out my binder with my sheet music in it, placing it on the music stand in front of me. I turned my head around to look at the back of the room, and to my surprise Milo wasn’t there. Maybe he’s sick? Maybe he’s absent today or something? I turned forward and bent forward to take my violin out of its case.

“Hey,” I hear someone talk in my direction. I looked up to see it was Aaron Serrano.

“Hi,” I said, not saying much to Aaron. There was nothing to talk about with him, but I also didn’t want to be rude to him.

“I just want to say I’m sorry for making you think your section sucks,” he said. I looked up at him, questioning why he was even talking to me in the first place.

“Is that all?” I asked, wanting this conversation to be over.

“Yeah, just wanted to say sorry,” he said, walking away from me. I turned around, needing to know what was his motive.

“Why the change of heart?” I asked, really only wanting to know that.

“No reason,” he said, shrugging his shoulder. “Just thought you needed the pick-me-up.”

“I don’t need anything from you,” I spat back, rolling my eyes. All he does his chuckle to himself, as if I was funny or cute.

“Gosh, you’re definitely loyal to Kamalani,” Aaron commented before going back to his seat. I rolled my eyes, facing forward again. I didn’t have the energy to fight anyone’s battles today, yet alone Milo’s.

Where the hell is he anyway?

The "Something" Series: Season 3

Something Slipping From The Tongue: A Duel Monologue.

liz

Sahim slowly opened the door to my hotel room and turned on the light. I slowly walked in, dropping my purse to the ground next to the door. I was exhausted from tonight’s events; all I wanted to do was just crawl under the covers and hide from the world.

“Grace,” Sahim softly called my name. I turned around to look at him before siting at the edge of my bed, yanking the heels off from my feet. “You should get some rest.”

“I can’t,” I said with a hoarse voice. “I have to call my dad…”

“That could wait until tomorrow,” Sahim insisted.

“No,” I firmly said. “It’s about 11 o’clock in the morning in America and I need to speak to my father now.”

“What you need to do is rest,” Sahim sternly responded back. “You need to have a clear mind to go into this type of conversation, and you’re clearly moving from emotion and–“

“No, Sahim; it can’t wait!” I yelled at this point. This was the first time I ever truly yelled at Sahim like this. I felt guilty; I know he just wanted to make me feel better and be there for me. But this is who I truly am: just somebody that needs to be left alone for her own well-being.

“Grace,” Sahim grounded himself, trying to help me focus. I didn’t want to; it was far too late to try to think rationally about this situation. “What good is it going to be to make a panicked call to your family across the country when you can’t even regulate your emotions in front of me?” Regulate?

“Because, I am tired of this shit!” I shouted even louder, not caring if anyone could hear me on our floor. “Do you know how it feels to be so far away from your family, but not just your family but from your own daughter, wanting nothing more than to be with her and hold her and let everything I’ve been worried about just erase away for a moment? This was her first birthday that I missed since she was born! I missed her first day of school, her first day on the school bus on her own going to school for a full day! Her firsts in everything this past year because I am across the country trying to fulfill this want and need and to just discover myself in a new country and leave my past in the past and yet here I am with the past and everything consistently reminding me of it!”

The room went silent. The city traffic was the only audible thing in our vicinity. I looked at Sahim as he looked at me trying to digest everything that just came out of my mouth. It was all true. It was all bottled up in me.

“Why are you running from your past?” Sahim asked softly. “How is your past here with you if this is your first time being in Korea?”

“My past follows me everywhere, Sahim,” I answered, defeat in my voice. “And I should’ve known that coming here would be the same way.” Sahim sat on the bed next to me, looking at me as I looked toward the ground.

“Grace,” Sahim gently said; his voice husky. “You can’t keep living in the past; it’s going to do nothing but eat you alive. You are here because you are meant to be here–“

“But at what cost?” I interrupted, questioning him. “My own family can’t even contact me to let me know what’s going on back in America, isolating me even more than I already was when it came to my family.”

“You also have to be able to contact them when you feel this way, though,” Sahim pointed out. I couldn’t help but look at him. It felt like he couldn’t understand what I was saying or where I was coming from. I couldn’t blame him entirely; he doesn’t know the full story. I shook my head, getting up from the bed and sighed.

“I shouldn’t have done this,” I said, looking around the hotel room.

“Done what?” Sahim asked.

“This!” I shouted. “I should’ve stayed in New York and lived on with my day as some lawyer that spent their free time in some stupid cafe with my daughter on the weekends and avoided coming to the one place I should’ve avoided–“

“Why would you avoid–” Before Sahim can even finish the sentence, I finally blurted it out. I yelled it so loud, the echo of my voice ringed in my ears.

“Because my fuckin’ ex lives here, that’s why!” I admitted, feeling angry more than relieved. “Everything was perfectly fine until it wasn’t, obviously.” Sahim scrunched his eyebrows together, seeming a bit upset about the secret I’ve hid from him.

“Have you’ve seen your ex since we’ve been…” Sahim tried to finish his sentence although he really wasn’t looking for an answer to it. “Since we’ve started dating?” I don’t answer right away. I was tired of lying to Sahim, and I was tired of hiding things from him at this point. What more can I lose at this point?

“Yes,” I answered, nonchalant. “I have.”

“So, you weren’t going to tell me you were secretly meeting up with your ex?” Sahim crossed his arms, now annoyed. “While already being in a relationship?”

“It’s kind of hard to avoid your ex when his best friend is your cousin’s boyfriend,” I spat back, feeling defensive. “Ask before you assume, Sahim.”

“It’s kind of hard to fully trust in your girlfriend when she tells her boyfriend months later that her ex lives in the one country she’s doing a production in,” Sahim snapped back. “I guess it makes sense now; you regretting coming here for work. Did you just come to win him back or something crazy like that?”

“Crazy?” I repeated, growing more angry at Sahim. “You of all people should know how much this production means to me. I left my daughter in America for this–“

“Yeah, you keep mentioning that,” Sahim responded. “But again, failed to mention that you’ve been in contact with your ex since being here!”

“For fuck’s sake, Sahim; Jamie is my goddamn ex!” I finally admitted out loud. “Jamie, you know, the guy that Shawn literally calls for everything when there’s trouble! You know, the guy that is dating my cousin, who literally calls me for everything when there’s trouble! It’s out of my power that he’s still in my life; it’s unavoidable at this point if I want to be in my cousin’s life!” Sahim clearly is now thinking before he says anything else; I can see he is trying to find the right words to say in this moment.

“Jamie?” Sahim asked.

“Yes,” I faintly said. “Jamie.”

…

“Jaemin,” I hear Haram call my name as soon as I get into the driver’s seat. The parking lot is dark, and all I wanted was to drive Haram back to her place in utter silence. I knew it wasn’t going to happen. “Jaemin–“

“Aigoo,” I whined. “Haram please; I have such a massive headache.”

“Jaemin, I have a bad feeling about that American girl,” she admitted, looking out the passenger’s window. “The way she talks to Shawn is so unlady-like. Maybe the universe is telling him he shouldn’t marry her.”

“Haram, you don’t know them,” I tried to explain. “Shawn and Skylar are not your conventional couple.”

“Yeah, I know; she’s American,” Haram emphasized. “The way she behaved in front of everyone did not make her look good. She seems like one of those women who only date Asian men to say they dated Asian men. No consideration to their culture whatsoever–“

“Ya,” I said, growing annoyed at Haram’s attitude. “You talking about another woman behind her back after witnessing her distraught does not make you look good.”

“I’m speaking from what I witnessed,” Haram argued. “It just doesn’t seem like they are even compatible, yet alone get married–” Once I got to a red light, I stopped the car abruptly, jolting Haram and I forward in our seats.

“Let me say this one more time: you do not know them well enough to make any type of assumptions like that,” I stated, looking back at the road and started to drive again. “I’ve known Shawn forever now as he was my own brother. Skylar is the first woman he’s been serious about because she is the type of woman he needs to balance him out.”

“Why are you defending her more than Shawn was back at his hotel?” Haram questioned, annoyed now. “What’s so special about Skylar that you are choosing to excuse such poor behavior? Would you have excused that behavior if I did it in front of your closest friend and his girlfriend?”

“You’re not Skylar; her etiquette is different than ours,” I deadpanned, trying to get off this conversation already. “Look, let them work things out regarding their relationship and they’ll be fine–“

“Until the next time he’s running to you for help with his relationship,” Haram rolled her eyes as she said. “You won’t ever be able get out of this vicious cycle if you don’t set a boundary with him. You are not their relationship therapist, Jaemin.”

“Shawn is my friend, Haram. Wouldn’t you go and help your friends when they are in need?” I questioned as I drove.

“My friends don’t need my constant reassurance that their relationships are actually working out,” Haram spat out, shaking her head. “My friends know I have a life outside of them.”

“Well, that makes us different,” I dismissed, wanting to drop the entire conversation already. Haram turned around in her seat; her body now facing me.

“I am just voicing my opinion on a situation that you dragged me into tonight,” she pointed out. “You don’t need to be so defensive over your friend’s girlfriend.”

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about; that’s my main issue,” I raised my voice, needing her to understand where I was coming from. “You don’t know Skylar to be making those assumptions, as I told you, like, 10 minutes ago–“

“How did they even meet?” Haram asked. Her question caught me off-guard.

“Huh?” I said, not really knowing what else to say.

“Did you introduce Skylar to Shawn or something? You’re defending her as if she was once your girlfriend or something–” I immediately stopped the car on the side of the road, turning on the light in the car to finally face Haram.

“What is your problem tonight?” I argued. “You’ve done nothing but talked badly about the people I chose to introduce you to. It means I care about you enough to introduce to people that mean a lot to me.”

“Answer my question, Jaemin,” Haram demanded. “How does a native Korean man just know some random, American girl without some sort of a connection?”

“Does it make any difference?” I said even louder. All I wanted was for Haram to let this go and to stop asking all of these questions. No, I do not want to continue having this conversation about somethin I am constantly battling internally with.

“She was your girlfriend, wasn’t she?” Haram scoffed and turned her body away from me, facing the window. “That’s unbelievable, how you would just allow your ex-girlfriend to fall in love with another man, but I guess–

“Ya!” I shouted, now fuming. “Skylar isn’t my ex-girlfriend, Grace is!” I looked at Haram, who is now looking back at me.

“Grace? Who–” Haram asked before realizing who I was talking about. “The redheaded woman that was with us at the hotel room?”

“Yeah,” I said, “Skylar’s cousin.”

…

I finally get back to my house after dropping Haram off at her apartment. She didn’t say anything to me once I told her about Grace. She simply looked out the window and didn’t even bother looking at me for the rest of the car ride. I dropped her off in front of her apartment building, and told her I would call her. She slammed the door, walking straight to her apartment, never looking back at me.

I parked my car on the street and got out from the driver’s side; I wanted nothing more than to just go straight into my house and collapse into my bed. I didn’t. I froze in place as soon as I got to my front steps.

“Grace?” I said, looking at her sit on the steps. She looks at me and gets up, brushing off the dirt from her clothes.

“Hi.” She said.

Black Sheep in Society: Season 2

Blast From Black Sheep’s Past: A Rosie Monologue.

liz

I met up with Micha one day after our Art History to kill about 5 birds with the same, big stone. For starters, I needed to run to the craft store to begin working o this project for our class. I was more than capable of purchasing the art supplies with my own money, but Micah refused for me to pay it.

“Roe, you deadass pay rent every month,” Micah began to say as he grabbed the canvases from my hands. “Plus, this is a project we’re both working on, the least I can contribute to this portion of the project is paying for all of this shit.”

“Well geez, if you put it like that,” I responded, rolling my eyes at Micah. I began roaming the aisles of the art supply store; I truly felt like I was in heaven. I kept stopping to look at every little thing down each aisle. It wasn’t like it was my first time being in an art supply store; I go to the one in the city a lot with Prescott, but he tends to always rush me whenever we go. I was glad to see that Micah wasn’t like that; instead, he would just stand there and wait for me to walk to the next thing in the aisle that grabbed my attention.

“So I was thinking we could meet up some time this weekend to discuss business,”Micah said as we walked down the different aisles.

“Business? Dude, it’s a sophomore-level art class,” I teased Micah. He rolled his eyes as I laughed.

“That, but also this party we’re trying to throw,” Micah added. “When were you thinking about throwing the party?”

“We could do a Spring Break party,” I suggested. “I grew up watching all of the trashy Spring Break themed parties; it’ll be cool to replicate something like that.”

“I don’t take you as the type to watch those trashy movies,” Micah responded.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, friend,” I once again teased, turning the corner to walk down a new aisle.

I kept staring at these one set of paint brushes that were too pretty to not look at. They were iridescent, hitting the light in the store in such a way look like it was made out of the prettiest material. The set alone was 50 bucks, which meant I had to put them back. Before I was able to fully put them back on the peg, Micah stops me.

“Get them,” Micah insisted.

“Dude, these shits are 50 cash,” I mentioned. “I don’t have that type of money.”

“I’ll get them for you,” Micah said, grabbing them from the peg. “Consider this an early–or if your birthday as already passed–late birthday present from me.”

“Micah,” I tried to say, but Micah was not having it.

“They are already in our cart and you’re fucking getting them to paint,” Micah concluded. I looked at him as he walked by me with the cart in his hand. I followed him, like a kid in a candy store, who was just told that they were able to get the one piece of candy they’ve been dying to have.

…

I stared at the paint brushes on my bed when I got back home. I didn’t even want to take them out of its pretty packaging, for fuck’s sake. I questioned Micah’s motive for purchasing these brushes for me in the first place. Why would he do something without wanting anything in return? Does he expect me to give him something? Why the fuck would he do something like this for someone like me?

I heard a knock on my front door, which was weird since I wasn’t expecting anyone to come over today. I walked to my door and opened it. I don’t remember what happened or what I did after I opened the door, but I was not expecting to see, out of all people, Hudson to show up at my door.

“Hudson?” I said, just needing to confirm that it’s actually him. He looks pissed.

“We need to talk,” Hudson simply said. Does this is how it feels to be scolded by your parents? If so, this shit fucking sucks. He walks into my apartment and looks around; the detective in him analyzes the fuck out of everything in it.

“I spoke to your college after not getting a housing bill these last two semesters,” Hudson began to say as he circled around the apartment. “And to my surprise, they informed me that no one; absolutely no one, under the name Rosie Delgado dorms at the college.” Fuck.

“Hudson,” I began to say. He clearly wasn’t having it.

“So you weren’t going to tell me that you live in some run-down apartment in the middle of the projects?” Hudson spat out. “You’ve been just taking the money for your housing and decided to put it somewhere else or something?”

“I-” I began to say again, but Hudson wasn’t finished; obviously.

“What in your right mind thought that this wasn’t going to get back to me?” Hudson asked, clearly wanting an answer now.

“Because it didn’t get to you during my freshman year,” I answered, barely audible. Hudson sighed loudly, of course not happy with me whatsoever. “How did you even find my place?”

“Really, Rosie?” Hudson answered back. Duh; he’s a fucking cop, and anyone can wave their badge around for information these days.

“You had no right looking into my school record,” I spat back, trying to get the heat off of me for a moment. “Haven’t you heard of HIPPA or some shit like that?”

“That’s doctors not being able to discuss your medical records, Rosie,” Hudson corrected. I’m in a liberal arts college, not medical school obviously. “Did you spend all of that money on this?”

“Part of it,” I answered. “The rest went towards living expenses.”

“What living expenses?” Hudson shouted, now visibly angry. “You call this piece of shit living expenses?”

“It was all I can afford, Hudson,” I snapped back, getting defensive. “It was either this or some boondocks apartment building in the Bronx; at least I can still go to and from school in time living here–“

“The same with dorming at the damn college! Rosie, I wanted you to go to college and focus on your studies; wasn’t that our agreement?” He wasn’t wrong. Back in Philly, Hudson attended my GED ceremony; he was the only adult in my life that gave a shit about where I was going in life. My parents had no fucking clue, and all of my friends either dropped out of high school or simply overdosed on drugs before they were even able to finish. I promised Hudson I was going to go to college in New York; get away from all of the bad shit that Philly brought in my life. I wanted to start fresh; I wanted to go to another state and be a different type of girl while doing something no one around me has ever done: give a fuck about living for their goddamn future.

“It’s not like I’ve been doing illegal shit or something,” I said, knowing damn well that wasn’t the truth. “Technically, I’m still in agreement.”

“You’re actually going to your classes?” Hudson asked. It annoyed me that he didn’t believe me, but then again there’s been so much I’ve lied about already to him. Maybe he already knows; maybe he is waiting for me to finally feel the guilt and just word vomit everything.

“I am,” I said, annoyed. “I just came back from getting shit for my art history project.” I pointed at all of the supplies on my bed, including the expensive paint brushes. Hudson takes a seat, sighing before he said anything to me.

“I’m not trying to micromanage your life,” he began to say. “I just want you to do as best as you can and do something better with your life. You’re capable of being great.”

“I am doing my best,” I said, sitting down on the chair across from him. “I go to school, I work at the campus bookstore, and I’m learning how to live on my own in the gist of all of this.” Hudson faintly smiled before getting up from the chair. He looked around the apartment one last time.

“Can we at least try to make this apartment look more… livable?” Hudson mentioned. I sucked my teeth, not appreciating his comment.

“Sure, if you want to help me pay for ‘livable’ things for my apartment,” I teased, laughing at Hudson when he rolled his eyes.

“Please keep out of trouble, Rosie,” Hudson said as he started to walk towards my front door. “And please; don’t keep any more secrets from me.” I nodded and walked him out the front door.

“I will,” I said, looking at Hudson as he walked down the flight of stairs. I closed the door when he left and immediately let out the loudest sigh. I walked toward my bed and picked up the brush set from my bed; admiring it.

y2katalogue: The Tapes

Tape #19: Gwen, Milo’s Friend Ghost.

liz

Milo walks into his band class as the late bell rings; everyone is preparing their instruments before the teacher starts class. He takes his violin out of his case and looks at Gwen a couple of seats down. He cocks his eyebrow up, wondering why Gwen hasn’t said anything to him. He turns around to face his music stand as Nicki sits in the seat in front of him.

Nicki: *turns around* Have you’ve seen Danny today?

Milo: Why would I know where he is?

Nicki: *rolls eyes* I don’t know, maybe because his our band member.

Milo: I don’t care about that guy unless it’s after school in Pep’s garage for band practice…

Nicki: *annoyed* When are you going to let the grudge go?

Milo finally looks up at Nicki.

Milo: Grudge? You mean holding him accountable for the fucked up shit he did to Pep? He’s lucky that he’s even in the band.

Nicki: I’m not saying he was right for doing what he did, but he has apologized to Pep for it a long time ago and she forgave him.

Milo: Nicki, you’re smarter than this. You should know that doesn’t change anything. So to answer your question: no, I don’t know where he’s been.

Nicki rolls her eyes and turns her head in Gwen’s direction.

Nicki: *to Milo* Did you say hi to Gwen?

Milo looks up quickly, then back to his sheet music.

Milo: No.

Nicki: *shouts* Hey, Gwen!

Gwen looks up towards the two teens. Nicki waves her hand as Milo looks down at his music; shy. Nicki motions her hand to invite Gwen to come over to her.

Milo: What are you doing?

Nicki: *confused*Saying hi to Gwen?

Gwen begins to walk over to Nicki and Milo; Milo slowly begins slipping down his seat.

Nicki: Hey, Gwen!

Gwen: *shy* Hi.

Milo nods his head but doesn’t say anything back to her. Gwen turns her head to face Nicki.

Gwen: Were you able to finish the piece for class today?

Nicki: I didn’t, but Milo was able to finish it before our practice yesterday.

Nicki nudges Milo with her elbow. He shoots her a deathly stare.

Nicki: Milo’s the best person to ask since you both are in the same section.

Gwen and Milo don’t say anything to each other; the late bell saves them the awkward conversation.

…

Milo runs toward the West Wing to the rehearsal rooms during his lunch period. He looks through every window of each rehearsal room until he sees Gwen in one of them. Milo tries to open the door, but it is locked. He wiggles the doorknob until Gwen pokes her head up, looking toward the window. She gets up from her seat and closes the curtain of the window. Milo starts to knock on the door to get Gwen’s attention. After a couple of minutes, the front door of the rehearsal room opens.

Gwen: What do you want, Milo?

Gwen walks away to go back to her seat; Milo stands near the doorway.

Milo: You still need help with the piece from band class?

Gwen: *scoffs* Now you care if I know the piece or not?

Milo: What does that mean?

Gwen: You acted like I was some ghost in band today when Nicki called me over.

Milo: You guys were having a conversation…

Gwen: *rolls eyes* I guess you were also being courteous on the night of your show, huh?

Milo is tongue-tied. Gwen shakes her head.

Gwen: You made me feel like I was some ghost friend to you or something…

Milo: *defensive* Dude, you didn’t mention that you came to the show because you were a friend of mine–

Gwen: ‘Dude’?

Milo doesn’t say anything back; it frustrates Gwen.

Gwen: Whatever, Milo. If you don’t mind, I am trying to learn the piece that apparently I should ask you about for help but considering that you are a jerk, I am going to get this piece right on my own–

Gwen sits back down in her seat and starts to play the piece; she begins to play the piece on a sharp note, which makes Milo cringe in place. Milo walks over to Gwen to make her stop.

Milo: Gwen, please–

Milo tries to take the violin from Gwen, but she refuses.

Gwen: Let go!

Milo: You’re not playing the note right!

They fight over the violin until Milo notices something back fall to the ground. He immediately jumps in fear, not knowing what it was. He looks up at Gwen with wide eyes. Gwen sits in her seat with short and thin looking blonde hair. Milo looks at the ground to see the black hair that was once on Gwen’s head was a wig. Gwen is horrified.

Milo: Gwen?

Gwen quickly grabs the black wig from the floor and puts it on her head. She grabs her things from the rehearsal room and runs out.

Milo: *runs out rehearsal room* Gwen!

Gwen is seen running down the long hallway; she doesn’t look back at Milo.

Overexposed: A Self-Love Project.

Overexposed: The ‘Millennial Teen’ Stereotype.

liz

I am a woman dressed in fun, bright colors. The color of the flowers on my pants match the clips I have in my hair. My glasses are rainbow on the days where my wardrobe is feeling more monotone and black in order to add some color in my outfit. My side of the bedroom is filled with different patterns and waves of various complimentary colors; a huge stuffed animal sits on top of my desk and a gold, feathery boa sits on top of the signed K-pop albums of my all-time favorite boy group.

If you could only judge me from what my safe space felt like, you’d think I was a college student a best, or perhaps a high-school teenager whose just about to graduate.

Or, you would even joke around and say, “man, this feels like a grown ass woman who was a kid/teen in the 2000’s and never grew up from it…

… Hi, my name is Liz, and I am that person who was a kid/teen in the 2000’s whose style screams “millennial teen”.

I have this distinctive memory of watching my older sibling’s home video of their first birthday party at a McDonalds in South Brooklyn; the year is 1991. I, for sure, was not even a thought (as I was born four years after my sibling) but it was interesting to see what how most people in their late 20s/early 30s dressed and acted like. Many of these people wore what was in style of that time, but everything made them seem so much older than they were. No one was wearing crazy patterns and vivid colors, and their hair was styled in ways that added a couple of years onto these young adults. I mean, it seemed like back in the day everyone looked like they were their appropriate age; even older than what you thought.

Nowadays, it’s different. You have the millennials not really conforming to the adult norms that we grew up watching our parents be. Many of us are not mothers by the time we hit our 30s. Many of us are not married and if we are, we most likely got married at City Hall did not have a luxury wedding ceremony to celebrate love the way we saw adults do it. Many of us are still living at home with our parents for more complicated reasons than just “rent being too damn high.” It seems like a lot of the things our parents and our parents’ parents did are not what we are doing.

Millennials, in a nutshell, are growing up in an unconventional way. Although we are maturing and are now faced with more adult-like conflicts and situations, we are still into the things that we were in when we were younger. Maybe it’s the fact that a lot of us grew up wanting the things we liked but couldn’t get, so we now get them with our own money we made from our adult jobs.

For me, my 20s consisted of me collecting K-pop albums and photocards and calling it a collection. Once I started to make my own money, I wanted to do things with it that I couldn’t do in my younger years. I began dressing the way I wanted to dress and decorate my safe space the way I wanted to, and I’m always gravitating more towards the colorful, or “youthful” things. As I’ve gotten older, I feel like I’ve embraced more of this side and it’s not because I’m trying to “hold on” to my youth. I’ve grown to embrace the things I simply like whether or not they fit into the societal norms of what a 30-year-old should like. A part of discovering and defining what identity looked like on me was realizing that there is never a right way to do things, and there is never a set of interests and hobbies that you need to have taken away from you when you reach a certain age in life. To go full circle, I had to unlearn all these expectations that life has set you up for: you don’t need to leave color behind in your younger years, you don’t need to settle down and find love once you’re out of college and in your mid-20s (yes, I am talking about you 18-year-old Liz who thought we were going to be married by the time we turned 26), and most important of them all, you don’t have to feel guilty of not wanting to have children and become a mother even if biologically time is telling you that you should do so.

While others may judge our generation for being “immature” and not “growing up” fail to realize that our generation was raised in such a transformative time. We were not strictly born in the area of technology, but we also were not raised prior to technology becoming such a universal resource and everyday essential. Sure, we may have tons of diagnosed mental illnesses in our generation and lack the social skills that our parents and grandparents tend to have, but we are so self-aware and are able to self-identify what it is that we need to nourish our soul and our bodies that we simply do not care if society judges us for not being “adult enough” compared to generations before us. I’m talking to you too, my Gen Z readers; you may judge older generations for being a certain way until you one day grow up and realize that what we are telling you is pretty much the same shit that older generations told us…

“Don’t grow up too fast. Cherish your youth as each day you are one day older than the last.”

I am proud of us as a generation for the way we are growing into our adult lives. I am proud that we can cherish what our youth was and still embrace those parts into our adulthood. I am proud that we literally said “why grow up to be miserable and monotone when we can grow up and still be the same person?” I am proud that as a generation, we are bending the rules in what it means to be an adult, not because we are lazy or afraid to grow up, but because we want to be happy in a world where things get dark if you look at it for too long. We grew up watching the adults lose their spark as they got older; we simply do what our fate to be a repetition of that.

So, yes; call me weird and eccentric and colorful and comment about how when you were my age, adults did not behave in such way. Yes, look at me and laugh with your teenage friends and poke fun of the fact that I may not be wearing what is appropriate for an “adult in their middle age”. Yes, ask me why do I still like the things that you thought I should’ve now grown out of as an 30-year-old adult.

I am simply being myself is what I’ll say.