How I am

So it's been a few months since I've posted a blog and I decided to take on three touchy subjects in this one.

Why I'm Pro-Choice

Growing up, I was pro-choice simply because I believed that while I personally would not get an abortion unless it would save my life (because there's only one me out there), I didn't think I could make that choice for all the other women out there. And honestly, I don't think anyone can say 'I'll never get an abortion' until they're put in a situation where abortion is honestly an option. It's just not fair to judge those who get one; you don't live their lives. You don't see the hardships they go through that make them take that option into consideration.

My first relationship ever was four years of being sexually abused. And I can honestly say that if I'd gotten pregnant with that boy's child, I would have been unable to love it. This coming from a girl who loves children and desperately wants a family in the future. I physically would not have been able to take the child into my arms at all. I don't even know if I would have been able to mentally or emotionally survive the pregnancy if it ever happened.

There are many of us whose bodies are freaks of nature, due to various things. And pregnancy does impose certain dangers upon many women. I'm sorry, but if the pregnancy would not only kill the child, but kill me, abortion seems like the merciful road to take. And in my opinion, whatever higher being is out there must see both sides of the rail road tracks. This should cause a certain amount of forgiveness to ring through its very core.

Why I'm Pro-Gay

Okay this one is pretty easy for me to explain. I am probably the least judgmental person on this earth's surface. I don't care of you're a raging lesbian, a subtle gay, or whatever you choose to be. As long as you're you, and you can be comfortable being you. Being gay is just as much a choice as being straight. It's as simple as that. So honestly, don't preach love if you can't give it to everyone, unconditionally.

Some of my best friends are gay, transexual, lesbian, bi, or pan. Whatever they choose to be. And they are some of the best people I know. It doesn't make them any less human, any less Christian, any less them. It's just a part of that wonderful person I have the privilege of knowing. I wouldn't have them any other way.

Life is too short to condemn someone merely because of how they love.

Why I Support the 99%

Okay. Besides the fact that I am a part of the 99%. This movement is about battling the greed that has taken over our economy and ultimately our nation.

I work hard, harder than those who make up the 1% and I still can barely make ends meet sometimes. The economy got royally messed up and I for some odd reason am paying for it. I see my money dwindle away to pay bills, and it frustrates me. Do you know how I would love to have enough to not only support myself but to give back and help those who need it as well?

I'm not asking for everything. Like most of us who are part of the 99%, I only want enough to pay off my debt, to cover my bills, and to actually live a life with those I love. It's ridiculous that this is asking too much in the eyes of those who seem to lack the ability to sympathize. I don't want a vacation home in the Bahamas or a super special plane that caters to my needs. I want a real job, with a real paycheck. I want a home, I want a life. This is not unreasonable. I'm 23, and I already have given up hope on achieving this before I'm 50.

The Difference

It's obvious that there's a lot of differences between the North and the South. One of my friends basically says that they're two separate countries in the same border. I decided to blog about some of my favorite ones.

The Food

Oh man, the food. I grew up eating corn bread, drinking sweet tea, and having lots of different spices on my meals. Plus I was spoiled, I had a mother who cooked the majority of my meals. The South is famous for its comfort food, and for good reason. In Maine? It's all about boiled dinners, Italians (yes, there's a sandwich called an Italian), steak and potatoes. Very simple, down to the basics. It took me a while to adjust to this - and to find where I could find my own spices/flavorings. So far the only place I can find sweet tea is McDonald's - needless to say, this isn't nearly as good as the real thing!

The Accents

Every once in a while, my super strong Southern accent will pop out. Whoever I'm talking to will do a double take, and go - "...what did you just say?" In the South, the accents are slow compared to Maine's. Here in Portland, they don't pronounce their 'r's. For example: "I'm going to the car so I can pick up some lobster." = "I'm going to the cah so I can pick up some lahbstah."

No joke.

I remember when my mother first heard the accent, she turned to me and asked, "What country is he from?"

My reply? "New England."

The Music

Growing up in the South, I quickly grew a strong fondness for the blues and jazz. One of the first c.d.s my dad got for me was Louis Armstrong. Besides, not only is the birth place of both these genres, but the beginning of rock'n'roll. So it's a musical mecca. In Maine, it's all about alternative rock, metal, or indie rock. Which is fine - but I barely see any of the strong blues and jazz influences that reigned supreme in my home. It was quite a shocker. I mean - where were the bands that included BB King and Muddy Waters as their inspirations? This wasn't as much of an adjustment as an addition to the kind of music that I grew to enjoy - but it was definitely a huge change.

Family Dynamics

This was a huge one for me. My family pretty much almost always knows what's going on with its members, because the grape vine is just that strong. Some view as gossiping but I've always enjoyed it. I like getting a random text/email/call from a cousin saying: "Hey I heard this and this. What's up? You need anything?" Needless to say, we are all very tight knit.

Not to say that Northern families don't love and appreciate each other - or to say that they aren't as close. But from what I noticed, they don't talk about each other to the others as much. There's family gatherings, and hanging outtings from time to time. But there isn't that certain element of - for lack of a better term - Southern Comfort. There's a certain distance between cousins - where they're treated just like that, cousins, instead of basically 'sisters from another mister' or 'brothers from another mother'.

Like I said, I'm not trying to discredit Maine/Northern families, but there is a distinct difference.

Language

This is an obvious one. I usually call people, 'child' as a term of endearment or when I'm scolding that certain person; the majority of the time, however, it's the prior. A lot of people take offense to this because they think I'm insulting them when I'm actually doing the opposite. In Maine, everything seems to be so straight forward. No sugar talking, nothing. "This happened at this place, this time, end of story". This also goes hand in hand with the Southern tradition of story telling, which is probably why we use as many adjectives as possible when talking. We're also very fond of taking our times with talking, instead of - excuse the description - talking as if we're on meth. This is definitely one of the things that I had to adjust greatly with.

All in all, though - I'm glad that I've had the chance to live on both sides of the fence.

The Move

I get asked why I moved across the country to Portland, Maine.

The first time I came, it was for a boy.

The second time, it was for a hopeful future.

Since then? I think the reason is because I fell in love with Portland. I live in a part of the city that has a small town feel - but in a short bus ride, I'm in the downtown area.

I have a cute room in a nice house with wonderful room mates.

Sometimes, though - I get this aching feeling. That I'm missing too much where my friends are. And that my little brother will resent me for not being there more in his younger years.

But this starts to wash away when I look around and realize that I feel like I'm home. I genuinely feel as if this is my corner of the world. My little room, in a quaint neighborhood, in the Northern reaches of the country.

So while my reasons for moving here are no longer applicable, the reason why I've stayed is this: I'm home.

A Strange Comfort

Well. When you're a single 23 year old living in a part of the country that is so different from the culture that you're clinging to, you take comfort in strange things.
One of these things I've taken comfort in is a cab driver named Devon.

I know this makes most people tilt their heads and go, "Porque, chika?"

But hear me out.

Devon has been my cab driver for a couple of months now, and at first, I cast him as just another lanky white boy.
I am a loyal customer of ASAP Taxi, and they've always treated me well - so when they continued to send him to me, I finally took notice.

When I have a long day, he listens to me rage - or just lets me be quiet until I want to say something.
During those rare moments that I am quiet, he tells me strange stories of other customers, or about times he's spent over seas.
Because of him, I'm going to try and save my money to go on an exchange program MECA has to China.

And during my good days, he smiles and lets me go into my utter fangirl phase. He laughs, he remembers, and he gives advice. For this I'm utterly grateful, because he's gone above and beyond the role of a taxi driver. He's become such an appreciated part of my routine, especially on Wednesday nights - which is why I felt compelled to write about him in this blog post.

This winter he'll be leaving for another trip over seas. And while I know I should be happy for him, I'm also incredibly sad. I'm sad that I wont have any more Wednesday nights, or someone who doesn't find complete pain in my fascination with lame jokes.

Strange comforts come and go, but this is one I'll always remember.