DONKEY!!!!!

Forest Gaga-Z

Rainbow Gaga-Z

Cosmic Gaga-Z

(She is wearing Time and Space itself for God’s sake!!!!!)

Tagged: concept art, disco stick, Lady Gaga ]]> http://girasoulcollapse.wordpress.com/2009/12/26/gaga-z/feed/ 0 Girasoul GaGaZ-1 GaGaZ-10 GaGaZ-7 GaGaZ-8 GaGaZ-11 GaGaZ-12 GaGaZ-13 GaGaZ-15 GaGaZ-14 GaGaZ-3 GaGaZ-4 GaGaZ-6 GaGaZ-16 GaGaZ-17 GaGaZ-18 GaGaZ-19 http://girasoulcollapse.wordpress.com/2009/12/26/sol-z/ http://girasoulcollapse.wordpress.com/2009/12/26/sol-z/#comments Sat, 26 Dec 2009 16:58:42 +0000 girasoulcollapse http://girasoulcollapse.wordpress.com/?p=984 ]]>

10.) Freduardo’s Sombrero [model: Piggles]

9.) Uncirculated coin set

8.) Freduardo’s head and left arm!

7.) LAB GOGGLES!

6.) Shells!

5.) Religious paraphernalia. Jesus!

4.) Phone with cord….and nothing else.

3.) Personal name chinese stamp.

2.) My Dragon CO2 car.

(Won “coolest design” in um…..2000? Maybe 2001. whenever I was a freshman in HS.

It’s taken a beating over the years. It’s lost its wheels, broken its horns, and just a mess!)

1.) My old Pokemon cards!

No, not the reality television show, I mean the Biggest Loser of East Montgomery High (circa 2000-2004). Guilty. As. Charged.  Yeah, I know high school wasn’t all peaches for a lot of individuals but it was especially true in my case.  I have never written about that time in my life because for the longest all I’ve done was try to forget it. Recently though, those old memories have begun to stir in my mind thanks to, of all things, Facebook. I know if I don’t do something to acknowledge them they will only haunt me even more.  Even if it’s in the form of an insignificant little blog post, it’s time to do something instead of running away.

The first inkling of isolation didn’t even manifest in high school. The groundwork had already been laid in middle school. Social awkwardness knew no bounds when it came to me.  To say that I “started off on the wrong foot” is a gross underestimation. Our middle school (East Middle) was the connecting station for two elementary schools on the opposite sides of town, Candor Elementary (me!) and Star Elementary.  Advanced placement classes suddenly became a curse.  My classes were mostly comprised of students from the other side of the tracks, Star kids. Some of my Candor alumni were in my classes but I was never particularly close friends with those select individuals. I was torn away from my silly comrades who I used to joke around with.

More strikingly, I was 1 of only 2 Mexican children in the class. The other was a smart and sassy lass by the name of Ingrid Meza. Although at that time we were not on very good terms but that too was my fault. Why? Picture it, the scene: 5^th grade classroom, friendly chat with the boys, one fateful question. “What girl do you like?”  Even at that early age I knew what I had to do, something I got very good at later on: LIE! When it came my turn to name my schoolboy crush I quickly scanned the classroom and my eyes fell upon little Ingrid Meza. Quickly before I arose any suspicion, I named her my love interest.  Not that she wasn’t a very cute girl, but of course for reasons that were made quite clear later on in life, I never had butterflies for her.  Well as is common in any school, word quickly spread that I was “madly in love” with Ingrid. That day I planted the seeds of a lie that would follow me through out my Montgomery County school career.  I would forever be known for having a crush on Ms. Meza.

Anyways where was I, oh yea so the other Mexican in the class didn’t want anything to do with me. Out of fear or boredom, I began to antagonize the star kids. As far as I knew we could never get along, they were the enemy. In math class I began to draw pictures of some star kid’s heads with varying animal bodies (pigs, frogs, etc.)  I did it because I felt like an outsider. I was just flailing wildly in the dark, trying to hit someone, anyone, with my attacks. Of course in retrospect I know what I did was wrong…funny, but wrong. It had lasting consequences and even immediate ones. I didn’t come out completely unscathed from the attacks. They fought back. They said mean things back, and since I was outnumbered and I had no one to come to my defense, they all laughed at me.  I remember I started crying in class so I ran outside. I think that’s why to this day I’m still so bad at fractions. Sixth grade made it official: I was that weird kid, the loser.

Not only that, the kids I used to play with seemed to have found novel friends with the star children in their respective classrooms. So I didn’t belong here or there. I began to steadily grow apart from all possible sides. I felt forgotten. I felt like a monster. I thought for sure that’s how everyone saw me. So I became one. I decided to be alone from that point on and would push everyone away.  It was a gradual process, nothing abrupt. For example, sometimes when I could I would sneak out before lunch was up and just go sit outside in the small courtyard opposite the lunchroom. The noise inside the cafeteria began to bother me so I enjoyed sitting outside by myself. Plus I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone, or make up lies, or say mean things.

For the most part middle school was bearable. I got through it but little did I know the worst was yet to come.  What began in middle school only increased exponentially in high school.

I was awkward. I was ugly. Fat. Friendless.  What a perfect way to start off freshman year, right?  Not having a safety net of any sort, not even family members since my sister had already quit school, I was scared beyond imagination. I couldn’t even eat lunch in the cafeteria.  The noise was no longer just a minor disturbance, it was deafening. No longer were they the soft voices of pre-teens, but of fully-fledged teenagers.  The upperclassmen were so much bigger than me. As soon as I saw the upgraded cafeteria environment I turned right around and went to sit in the courtyard.

However unlike in middle school where the courtyard was for the most part barren, the lunchroom crowd spilled out into the courtyard. There were a few concrete tables, picnic tables and even a gazebo for those into a scenic lunch.  Most of them already had owners, so I just went to sit on a short brick wall that was the perimeter for the concrete table sets. I sat facing the senior parking lot in front of the school which was also the main entrance.  My back turned to everyone and everything. I could only see the cars, the main road, and the 100ft coniferous trees that enclosed the entrance and most of the school since it was a pretty wooded area. I would imagine myself anywhere but there. I would even imagine myself running across the tree tops.

And for as long I went to that school, I never once entered that cafeteria during lunch time.  Rain or shine, I would go sit outside for the duration of lunch period. The longest forty-five minutes of my life.  Sometimes I would pretend to do homework when in reality I was probably just doodling. I did it so no one would want to come up and talk to me. Through-out the year I would try to switch it up and sit in different places. Sometimes I would sit near a group of fellow Mexicans and just watch on as they had conversations. I would never say anything but no one ever really asked me to. I was like a stone gargoyle just keeping guard on the wall.

Other times I would sit on one side of a picnic table usually occupied by a group of boisterous black girls.  That’s when I would just sit quietly pretending to do homework while listening to their entertaining speech patterns. I sat there until one incident made me never sit there again. As previously mentioned I was struggling with weight issues* at the time (present day: *ahem it’s an ongoing battle) and thanks to my prodigious girth I had what could only be called “man-boobs”.  Duane Steele was a nasty miscreant from my Algebra class who was a junior at the time.  One sunny day as I was sitting at the table per usual pretending to do homework I heard a loud ruckus approaching me from behind. When I tried to turn around to see what it was, Duane had already reached around from behind and grabbed my “man-boobs” in front of everyone in the courtyard. I can’t remember what he said exactly but rest assured it was a joke at my expense. My face began to burn as I just couldn’t believe what happened. I heard the girls at the other side of the table abrupt with laughter, and I didn’t really notice anything else because I just sat staring at my books. I could feel tears well up in my eyes. I was so embarrassed.  I just wanted to get up and run away at that point but lunch wasn’t over and I didn’t want to draw anymore attention to myself.  As soon as the bell rang to dismiss lunch I grabbed my stuff and bolted into the school building and into the first boy’s bathroom I could find. I checked my face for any traces of tear tracks or red eyes and contemplated skipping class and just sitting in the bathroom. I decided against it because the only class I found any measurable sense of relief was next period.

It was my freshman English class. The teacher, Mrs. Pratt, was by far and away my favorite teacher in that wretched place.  From the beginning she saw something in me that only very few people had seen before. She liked what I had to say and often doted tremendously on my writing. I was genuinely happy for a while.  Unfortunately I was only able to have one semester with her freshman year.  But I made a triumphant return senior year as she also taught AP English.

I made it that far because I was able to parry the loneliness of high school with a part-time job. Sophomore year on a suggestion by another English teacher I applied at a pharmacy one town over. Whatever made Kayren, my boss, hire me was truly a godsend. I always looked forward to going to work after school. At work not only did I make friends with my co-workers but I was also needed.  It felt like a new start because I didn’t have any baggage there. Most of my co-workers were either from another high school or not in my grade. For some reason my boss absolutely loved me and gleefully dubbed herself my “white mama”.

Somehow I made it all the way to senior year. For the most part I was still alone at lunch but by then it wasn’t that bad. I had my favorite teacher all year so I was ecstatic. Also many things had changed by then. I wasn’t completely a loner. I don’t know what it was about that last year but most everyone was friendlier with me. I guess since the end was approaching there was no point in not getting along. I played along; I didn’t really care either way. But it was kind of nice. And that was the year I first heard about Wake Forest, the place that would be home for the next 4 years. I wasn’t even thinking about college to be honest. I never even had plans to go. It just sorta fell into my lap and then everything just began snowballing from there. The trees pointed the way to the Forest.  And the rest is history.

People don’t get what they deserve, they get what they get. I felt so isolated for a long time because I was afraid of being seen for who I was.  But that’s another [totally gay] story. As I look back at these seemingly painful memories I realize that I don’t have to blame myself anymore for the things that happened.  It’s pointless. Doing so just re-opens old wounds allowing for re-infection. I need to let them heal. I’m only hurting myself if I don’t. I didn’t deserve to be alone, but that was the card I was dealt. I can’t change what happened but I can leave it be. Besides it was just as I had always wished, it was only temporary loneliness. Eventually the universe sent some amazing friends down my way.

Things may be a little hazy for me at the moment, but for some reason I’m not worried. No job, no money, no new friends in an unfamiliar town. Yup, that is a doozy. But I don’t care, because I know things aren’t always going to be that way. All those things will come with time. I just need to be ready. I may still be a loser, but I’ll be a prepared loser this time.

the light through the trees

real life farmville

Best Friends Animal Hospital

AMAZING RACE!!!!!

FIN

Tagged: abandoned factory, amazing race, busted car, cows, fall, farm, hay bales, mountains, Random, rome georgia ]]> http://girasoulcollapse.wordpress.com/2009/11/11/abandoned-factory/feed/ 1 Girasoul Photo-0026 Photo-0029 Photo-0031 Photo-0035 Photo-0036 Photo-0038 Photo-0040 Photo-0044 Photo-0045 Photo-0046 Photo-0054 Photo-0058 http://girasoulcollapse.wordpress.com/2009/11/06/cien-mil-ojos/ http://girasoulcollapse.wordpress.com/2009/11/06/cien-mil-ojos/#comments Fri, 06 Nov 2009 18:08:33 +0000 girasoulcollapse http://girasoulcollapse.wordpress.com/?p=937 ]]>

“Cien mil ojos” literally means 100,000 eyes. This phrase has been circulating my head all week for some reason. SO I decided to trap the phrase in the second dimension. It turned out pretty cool and I am even using it as my wallpaper on my computer. Enjoy. Tschuss!