Easter Eggless

It is Easter Sunday and I can't sleep.
I could lie to you and tell you that I'm just too excited for a wonderful family filled day later and thats why I can't sleep, but that would be a big fat lie.

I've never been a good liar.

I can't sleep because I fell asleep earlier and now my body is awake.  I want to sleep and I know I will be exhausted tomorrow but I just can't.

Being this awake sucks.  Being sober sucks.  Well, it sucks right now.  People keep telling me it won't suck as much later on and that you'll experience a miracle.  I'm not completely sold yet but I'm totally open to a miracle right now.

That would be the best fucking thing ever.  A MIRACLE!!!

At least then I would know why or how and maybe even what for because the one thing thing that goes through my head when I can't sleep is how empty i feel.

I am eggless in almost every sense of the word.

I keep thinking about my childhood and easter egg hunts.  It was simple back then and I miss that.

My mom loved getting us easter baskets.  I used to wake up to a basket every year.  It was wonderful and I long for those innocent moments of childhood.

The days of baskets of candy and crocheted frills on my socks.  A special dress just for the day and then finally the hunt for all the glory.

No one tells you that when you grow up you'll have to look twice as hard for the "eggs", and they also don't tell you that the eggs are sometimes empty.

You may find the egg, but it may be empty, and thats the hardest part.

So, right now in this moment at my age I feel eggless.

My socks have no frills

My basket is empty and I am cold.

I miss my innocence and at times my eyes have seen more than they can handle.
You can't un-see things and you can't un-feel them either.

Growing up sucks and I feel like I should have done it sooner than this but I wasn't ready.
Some days I'm still not.

This may seem sad to you, but its not to me.  Its reality and a part of the journey.  Its personal to me, not private, but personal.

I'm beginning to think that adulthood is the ultimate adventure.

To that I smile.

Because of that I know that I won't be eggless forever.  The basket will fill up for me again someday.
Maybe not with colorful eggs and candy but with other joys and hopefully love.

I'm hopeful most of all for that.

Any kind of love, because after all eggs are eggs and love is love.

Maggie I miss you more than I can say and I cry more than anyone knows because you're gone.  Thank you for all those easter baskets.

Where am I going with this?
I don't know, but I now know that I need to go fill up my basket.

I don't need to be Easter Eggless anymore.

Oatmeal Raisin Cookie Crash

I'm back in Michigan and after what I went through in California this last time I'm not really that upset about it.  I still can't go into detail of what happened.  It hurts too much and in the end everyone thought I was an asshole when really they just didn't know the truth.

I'll tell you all someday, but today isn't that day.  The question that everyone wanted answered was "What happened out there?'  I don't have an answer yet and I can't even talk about it anymore.

I can tell you about last week and that I'm glad its behind me and I lived to tell you about it.

Last Monday was the 1 year anniversary of my mom's death.  I still don't feel right and I'm not really sure how to be a functioning adult without her.  When she was alive she would reassure me that I was  on some kind of path and that I was doing the right thing.  She believed in me.  Now I know that anyone reading this can say they believe in me and I'm sure that you do.  But, until I could learn how to believe in myself my mom believing me was the next best thing.

Monday went by and I got through the day okay.  It seemed so busy that I didn't really get a chance to feel anything. I don't really like to feel very much in front of other people.  I'd rather write about it.

Tuesday was a blur and it doesn't really matter anyways.  The day that mattered the most was the next day, Wednesday.

I had promised myself that I would take some time off when I got home and not work.  NO WORK.  I wasn't really sure what my plan was going to be but I knew I needed a break from cooking.  All the reasons behind that will come later.

I was going crazy just after a month of being on the road back home and then hanging out on my sisters couch.  Although it was an amazing couch and we had spent hours together I knew I had to do something with myself at least part time.  So I did.
I got a job in the Lansing area at a small international market working in the deli.  Everyone one of them seemed puzzled when they asked me why I would want to work there for just over minimum wage.  My answer was always the same.  I wanted to do something different.

Going from working in a high stress demanding kitchen filled happily self proclaimed tattooed miscreants to a bunch of hairnet wearing daytime ladies was like going from 150 miles an hour on the highway to 45 in 65mph zone.

The whole experience was intense, but I was open to it.  I fancy myself a writer and a dreamer.  I'll try anything for inspiration.

I'm always looking for a new muse no matter how bad he or she may be.

Like I said this bunch of people was different.  They didn't know how to take me and I the same about them.  I didn't mind it though.  It was easy, I didn't have to think about much besides whether the customer asked for gelbwurst or jagdwurst.  Did they want half a pound of sliced gouda or a quarter of a pound?  It was easy.

There was one girl though that I didn't know what to make of.  It was obviously she didn't like me.  She did everything she could to try to make me feel stupid.  She seemed to disgustingly get off by making me wash dishes for hours even when they were all hers and none of them were mine.
She was the Assistant Deli Manager and I type that in all caps because she made sure I knew who she was.  She told me everyday at least twice a day and also made sure that I knew that she was a chef too and that we were probably trained differently.  She was the chef of a pizza restaurant.  Who was I to tell her anything that she did was wrong even though it was.
I ignored her most of the time and kept busy because I wanted to come in, do my job and go home.
This Wednesday was particularly interesting.  I had talked to her the day before and asked her why she didn't like me.  I got tired of everyone telling me that thats just how she was.  Thats how she talks to everyone.

Not me.  I've never been one to put up with anyone treating me like shit unless I loved them and I didn't love this Bitch.  I was amazed that anyone did.  She was awful and just the sight of her face made me sad.

Yes, I'm being bitchy and mean, but I did try to get past it when I asked her why she and I didn't get along.  I liked being there and I wanted problems with no one.  I'd rather tackle it, hash it out and get it over with.

Lets all move on.

I had been really trying to make efforts to get back on track and make some sense of my life.  The past couple of years had been bad and I was ready for some light.  I had even done a cleanse to jump start my return to weight loss.  I get sick of hearing about it too, but its a battle that I'll never be able to stop fighting.  I believe a lot of other people feel the same way and fall off and get back on like I do.

I had gone to lunch and not really had much that day besides my morning shake, green tea and a greek yogurt for lunch.  I was still hungry.

I ignore the basket of samples on the counter that the bakery ladies leave for people to sample all day long, but today I wanted something.  Just one bite and I would have been satisfied.  I had been exercising and eating well.  I felt good.
I peeked in the basket and a bakery lady named Trina said "Whatcha lookin for?"  She smiled at me.  I said "I just want something sweet.  I need a little bite."
She replied, "Here I have some Oatmeal Raisin Cookies that are out of date by like two days.  They're still good."
I said thank you and I smiled.  I knew that one lousy cookie wasn't going to ruin my life or day.  There was something different going on with me and I liked it.

As I walked back to the table to work with the Assistant Manager, she looked up at me jealously and said "Where did you get that?"  I smiled, "Trina just gave it to me."
 
She looked up walked towards Trina and said out loud, "Hey! I'm fat too, I want one too!"

I was humiliated and all of the sudden I felt like I was 11 years old again wanting my mothers shoulder to cry on until I felt better.  It was horrible.  Everyone looked at me shocked.  Were they as appalled as I was for her being such an idiot or worried that I was going to destroy this useless cunts miserable face with my bare hands?

I did neither.  I looked up and I said, "HEY! HEY! I'm not eating this cookie because I'm fat, I'm eating it because its delicious. "  And with that I smiled and it all seemed to be smoothed over.  She was embarrassed, her puffy face was all red and as she walked back, cookie in hand she apologized.  She told me she didn't mean to say it like that.  She had meant something else.

It was too late though, her idiotic comment rattled me.  It rattled me so bad that I went to my 11 year old self to deal with the humiliation I felt at that moment.  I shamed myself in my head for that cookie, and I was beating myself up far worse than she ever could have.  I immediately wanted comfort and for me that always comes in the form of food.  The remedy seemed simple, a bologna sandwich and Doritos.  That was all I wanted and then it would pass.

That afternoon I left work with a fake smile on my face so that no one would know what was really going on.  I had no idea how much I had given that Cunt assistant manager.  It was like I had given her permission to drive for the rest of the day.

I had a phone appointment with my therapist that usually takes place in my car in a random parking lot and I cried.  I cried to her because my mother wasn't there and I cried to her because my 11 year old self needed to be upset.  I was disappointed in myself and in how bad I had let that stupid cunt get to me.

I finished my appointment and I looked up and saw Wal-Mart.  I thought to myself, I can go in really quick and get some bologna and Doritos and then head home.  But I knew that wasn't going to help.  I knew my head was in a bad place and it had been for some time.  This cookie incident was just the last straw.  Something had to happen to shake me up.  Something had to change.

So, I said no.  No bologna, no chips and no stops before home.  I'm going home.
I turned my car around and went to exit the parking lot.  As I waited to turn left I sat silently.  No radio, no phone in hand and nothing really in my head.  I was empty.  I looked to my right and it was clear.  I looked to my left and that was clear, but it wasn't.  A black chevy trailblazer was flying around the corner so fast that I didn't have a chance.  The only thing I could do was try to make it so that she didn't hit me right in the driver's side door.  I thought, she'll hit the back of me and not the front, but I didn't make it.  She hit Me, and I mean Me. She T-boned my car and all I heard was a pop and glass fall all around like confetti.  When I opened my eyes I was dazed and saw blood pooling on my arms where the glass broke.  I could move my legs, my arms, but my feet were wedged in the between the smashed in door and the pedals.

I was alive.

The police arrived quickly and were followed by the fire department and an ambulance.  The only way out of my car was through the passenger side and the firemen weren't gonna let me out by myself.  They were hell-bent on getting me to the hospital to check out my neck and back.  So they did, they locked me in a brace with straps around my legs and pulled me out without moving my neck and back.  I felt like a rag doll.

The other lady was fine. She complained right away of her shoulder but I remember seeing her walking and pacing later on.  She had already yelled and screamed at me for pulling out in front of her.

I spent a few hours at the hospital and cried harder than I think I had in a long time.

They say that you should have no regrets, but who the fuck are they anyway?

I only have one regret from that day, and that is that I let that one incident over a cookie and the ignorant words of someone who doesn't matter almost take me so far away that I wouldn't have come back.  I'm thankful and lucky things turned out the way I did, and I've learned so much about my own emotional health and what I need to do next.  The path is bumpy and it isn't always clear, but don't ever let anyone steer you away from where you're going, especially if its the right direction.  And for God's sake don't give them the wheel.

Drive safe and don't have an,

Oatmeal Raisin Cookie Crash

love,
Lea

I'm on the Wagon

Fuck.

I used to love to swear and be completely inappropriate but so many other dickheads and douche bags do it now that they're making it really uncool.  Thanks Jersey Shore.

Lately it seems to be "One of those days" every fucking day.  I do my best to get through them and just keep going.  If its the only option I give myself then that's the only thing that will happen.

Its not a secret that I struggle with my weight.  I always have, and maybe I always will.  But that's my problem, not yours.  I'm working on it.  Its taken me years to realize that the only person who can change your situation is you.  I can't help you, you can't help me.  We have to help ourselves.

I'd pretty much hit my lowest point last year and didn't know if I would ever get back on the ride that is my life.  I'd lost a lot of things and people that were really important to me, and even though I wanted to die, I was still living and the fucking world kept turning.  I had to keep going.

The truth was that I had taken so many positive steps forward to take like one hundred shallow narcissistic steps backwards.  When I didn't know where I was or what to do, I just quit.  I gave up and said fuck it.  I'm gonna go back to the old Lea and back to whats comfortable.

Eighty pounds later I found everything I was running from and when I had to look at it in the mirror I still hated it.

I left Michigan and moved to California to get away from everything and start over.

But, when I got here I was the same.  I still hated what I saw in the mirror.  Only this time I knew why I hated it so much.  I hated because I knew better.  I knew I was better than what I was being.  That flame never left me, it just kind of went to a flicker like a candle that's breathing its last breath.

I was breaking my own heart.

I had already let someone else break my heart, I had had the universe break my heart when I watched my mother leave this earth and now I was still breaking my own heart.  As if I hadn't had enough.

I am the truest glutton you'll ever meet.
I am the purest sinner I can be.

I was singing the same song to a friend of mine over Facebook because things weren't panning out as I had planned on my new adventure.  I was again talking to her about how much weight I had gained and how miserable I was.

She told me about this body challenge she was doing and that she wanted me to think about it.  Then typed this:
Can't stop thinking about you... So this challenge...I don't want to seem like I'm selling you, but I just keep coming back to your passion about healthy food and the power you have to impact soooo many people. This may not be what you were thinking when you dreamed your dream, but I think it is a vehicle that will get you there.

And I thought...Fuck it.  I might as well give it a shot.  I wanted to change, and I wanted to fix the situation that I was in.  I knew I had to quit drinking, I had to stop eating garbage and I had to take control of my health.  I was depressed and it was starting to really show.

So, I did.  I re lit my own flame and I was starting to feel good again.  I was starting to feel like I could make changes and that things didn't have to suck as much as I though they did.

I quit drinking at work with everyone else.  Alcohol does terrible things to me, I can acknowledge it now.  I started eating better and working out again.  I'm feeling better, more in control of myself and who I'd like to be.

People noticed, but they don't really understand my plight and here is why...

I hear these Bitches at work always talking about how they need to lose weight and they're tired of feeling bloated.  They ask me why I'm not drinking and as soon as I tell the why, they immediately project it onto themselves. "Oh, I should do that.  I really need to lose weight."

They say it time and time again and in many different ways.

What they don't understand is that this is who I am, I'm not looking for a quick fix to lose a quick 10 pounds.  I'm not trying to fit into a dress, or impress a man.  Or catch one for that matter.  Fuck that, when I'm ready for him he better be able to keep up with me.

I'm doing this because I want to live.  I watched diabetes, kidney disease, and heart failure kill my mother.  I watched her slowly kill herself.  This is what America is doing, we are slowly killing ourselves.

I have to do this for myself, for my sister, and for my mother.  I want my mothers legacy to live on.  She can still be beautiful, strong, and proud through me.  She can do this through me because she made me.  These are things I don't think she ever felt for herself and when I see her again I want to make sure she saw everything through my eyes.  Because just as I saw her tears, she can see mine.

Today we overcooked a flatbread and we couldn't serve it.  A girl server walked in and said, "well you guys can eat it or but that Bitch up and we'll all eat it."  Then she said "Well, I can't eat it, I shouldn't at least."  She looked at me and she said "I'm on the wagon."
I was immediately insulted, but just smiled at her.  Then she said "I'm on water and diet pills."
I wanted to slap this Bitch.  But, I didn't.  I looked at her and said "diet pills are so bad for you."
She said, "yeah, but they give me lots of energy!"

She left, but I knew that wouldn't be the last of her.

She came back later.  She walked into the kitchen and said, "I'm hungry.  I need something to eat, but it has to be healthy.  Like, it can't be fattening, like I need to eat just plain chicken."

The chef and I just stared at her.  We didn't really know what she wanted, she never really said.
I know the effort it takes to eat well when you work in a restaurant.  So, I looked at her and said "Girl, you need to plan for this better."
She immediately got defensive and tried to explain why she had no time to eat or bring her own food to work.
She got mad after that and said "Forget it! I'll just go order food somewhere else."
I called after her and I said "Why don't you just order a salad and add chicken. I can make that for you if you want."

She said okay.  This was my way of trying to make her happy and help her out even though the bitch never really said what she wanted.

Her ticket for her salad came in minutes later and it read

Mixed Green
-ADD CHICKEN
-ADD BACON
-ADD AVOCADO
-VINI

Fucking Wow!  This girl didn't get it and she'll never get me.

This is a lifestyle. This is who I am and who I want to be.  Its a choice I made for myself to be a better version of myself.  This isn't me trying to find a quick fix for right now.  Its me, trying to live my life.

So, I said...Fuck her.  Fuck the look she gave me when she shot her "On the Wagon" comment at me and fuck her for thinking she knows how to do what I do.  She doesn't and may not ever.  And I really don't care, but it reinforced all the things in me that I though were lost never to be seen again.  I've found myself again and I'm going to hold on to it this time.

I'll hold onto it because it's older, wiser, and stronger.  It's me and who I always was.  I just had to get back to it.  My dream was always there and it never went away.  My journey isn't over yet.  I feel like I've only just begun.

So, maybe I am...

On the Wagon

Whatever, the only person I have to worry about falling off is me.

Love,
Lea

Beer-icle Grow

I've been quietly struggling for a long time.  Peacefully succeeding and painfully failing.
It's not any one's fault but its just what happens to us.
We climb, and we fall.  Some of us get back up and some of us just have to lay there for a bit.  I feel like I've been laying here for a while.
Is it time to get back up?
I don't know.
I know that I want to be okay, but its hard to fake this one.
Almost everything I loved is gone.
But nothing was as hard as watching my mother take her last breath.
Nothing really matters after that.  You just keep going because you have to, and that's what everyone wants you to do.
But fuck them, I am not okay.  I can't pretend to be anymore.
It's rare that I have any breakthroughs anymore, it seems impossible to feel anything anymore.

It seems impossible to do anything.
But the professionals keep telling me to find the light, look for some kind of hope.  They want me to find the value in my life and in myself.

This isn't a happy place for me.  In fact it may be the darkest its ever been.

I could lie, but I'm really fucking bad at it and the raw truth is better than any bullshit lie.

Writing this seems to be the only way I can be honest with people, and myself.  Writing this seems the best way to dig myself out of it and into something else.

Because sitting in the dark like this isn't any fun.

Well, the other day I had a small breakthrough.

I know I have issues, everyone does.  I know that dealing with the loss of my only parent is going to take a long time.  I know that getting back on the weight loss wagon is going to be tough.
All of these things aren't impossible, they were just things I didn't want to grow up and deal with.
I couldn't, I was barely hanging on.

I had had an extremely drunken escapade that ended badly and was talking with my therapist about it.
I'm not afraid to admit I'm crazy.  I've got a circle of friends who are just as crazy as I am and would tell me to run with it.

So I am.

What I'm not willing to do is to keep poisoning myself as a way to distract me from the feelings I have.
I know I have to deal with them and I think I'm finally ready.

As I said, I was talking to my therapist and I was telling her that I needed to clean up my life.  I needed to stop the extracurricular activities I was engaging in.

I told her that I thought I had a problem.  I was angry, sad, lost and stuck in the dark all at the same time.

She asked me why I though that.

I said "Because I can't keep up like this, I can't keep getting blacked out drunk and expect to get better.  I can't expect a plant to grow if I keep trying to water it with beer...or vodka actually for that matter!"

And as soon as I said I understood what was happening to me.  I had been sitting there for months in this office trying to figure why everything happened and why I had such a hard time dealing with everything.

I had been clouding up my own vision for a long time and I had to stop.  I had to grow up and face what was in front of me or drown in a haze.
That's the easy way out and I've never taken that road.

This wasn't meant to be funny, but it was meant to be liberating.  I am not exclusive to these problems, we all deal with them.

I just deal with mine out loud.
And the sound of my fingers hitting keys is soothing.

The poison in my life has been long gone, and I had to let it go.
My mother is never coming back, but people tell me I'll see her again.
I see her when I look in the mirror.
I haven't forgot what a treadmill looks like or how it works, I just have to reintroduce myself.
Drinking doesn't solve my problems, it seems to only make them worse.
I will cook again, and I'll never forget how to use my knives.

There is a light, I see it, and I know that things will get better.

The sun is shining in the west.

I've said it many times to many people...This is just a moment, it won't last forever.

And I know that there is no such thing as...

Beer-icle Grow

Love
Lea

Meatloafed...

A while ago I saw an old friend. She said something very important to me that night, she said "You're different, you seem...not like the old you I used to remember. You used to have this fire and spark that I admired about you so much. What's happened to you?"

I didn't know what to tell her. So much had changed since the last time I saw her and I really didn't know where to start. I could have spilled my guts and told her the truth but honestly, I didn't know what the truth was anymore.

I looked at her and I said "I guess I'm just tired."

That was true, I was tired. I had been in a battle so long with myself, my friends, my job and food that everything had exhausted me and I was running out of steam.

I really did do the best I could for a long time, but I could feel the bend and I knew that I would break eventually.

I didn't know who I was anymore. I probably over thought about this for a long time, but I had too. I wanted to know why it bothered me so much.

Day in and day out the same things over and over again. I was praying for an explosion. Being too good for too long is never a good thing for me and I still haven't learned how to handle it yet.

The yogis keep telling me it's about balance and the devil told me not to give a fuck, we might as well have a good time.

Fuck the yogis and fuck the Devil.

They don't know shit about me.

So, I threw caution to the wind and let it all blow up. I felt like I was running into the same wall over and over again so I figured the only way through it was to blow it up and start over.

I needed a break, I needed some time away. I needed to figure out a new plan, the old plan wasn't working anymore and I really didn't know who I was anymore.

I can fight temptation all I want, but sometimes I can't win. I have to give in.

I had been following a strict diet plan for so long that I felt horrible about everything I ate. I had abstained from a lot of things that were bad for me, or might open a door towards temptation.

This includes alcohol, drugs, men and bad food.

All things I love.

I had been sad for a long time and I couldn't really shake it. I hadn't really tried either though, but I knew the sadness would eventually subside and I would really want to shake it off. I knew I would come up with a new plan and I would get back on track when I was ready.

Until then I finally realized the one thing I needed the most. I could eat all the bad food I wanted and drink like a fish but until I got what I actually wanted I wouldn't feel satisfied.

And sometimes you just gotta give into temptation, and I was hungry for one thing...

Meatloaf.

I don't know why, but I love it. I hardly ever eat it, and its total comfort food but I wanted it, bad.

I wanted meat, I really needed MEAT.

Yes, exactly what you're thinking...I needed it.

I was at work the other day and I was talking to a co worker. It had been a long day and we usually say goodbye over an end of the day chat. I like these chats, they make me feel human. Sometimes they make me laugh, I haven't laughed or really smiled in a long time.
The only thing I could think of was...meatloaf.

I told him how bad I wanted meatloaf.

He said "You can have meatloaf, you can make it yourself and it's not that bad. You might even be able to use turkey!"

It had occurred to me that I had been denying myself red meat, and I really wanted some.
He was trying to type "meatloaf" into the search and he said "doh, meatloaf, not meatload."

We both laughed.

I laughed so hard that I almost peed my pants. I couldn't stop and I really couldn't stop thinking about it now. It was too funny.

He finally showed me his favorite recipe online and we printed it off.
The next day he asked me if I had had meatloaf.
I hadn't yet.
So the day after that, I had had it. I was done fighting it, I really needed to get meatloafed.

I came home from work and cleaned the kitchen thinking about meatloaf. I also thought about how I needed to get a "meatload". I can't help it, I'm human. I'm also honest.

I know it's simple and people have it all the time, but to me this time it was special.
I did it. I made it, and it was beautiful. It looked like it belonged in a magazine and it tasted even better than I have ever had or ever remembered.

I didn't binge, or gorge myself. It was perfect. The piece I cut for myself was just enough to leave me in bliss.

I know it wouldn't last forever but at least I would feel it for tonight and I can appreciate that now.

When I was done I felt like I was really ready go forward. I was ready to start to let go of all the past shit and figure out what to do next.

I had been praying for salvation and wishing for an answer, but I didn't know that I would get it until I got what I needed all along.

I needed to give into temptation and really, really get properly "meatloafed"

Love,
Trixie

Funeral Cake

Sometimes things don't always go according to plan.
We bite off more than we can chew.
We get a little bit more than we can bargain for.
We take a gamble on something or someone and sometimes we win, sometimes we lose.


I lost.

And I won.

I'm still figuring it out actually. I'm also still trying to figure out how to put it all in words. I still can't and I don't want to try anymore. It's not worth it and now that I got to the bottom of what I always knew was true I realize that it never was.

I probably look like a fool, but my good friend Esperanza says that I'm a gorgeous fool.
I love it and I'll take it.

An ex-friend of mine once yelled at me while he was drunk, he said "Why can't you just enjoy right now and what is? Why do you have to bring up the future and think too much into things!"

I didn't know how to answer him, but after having an already deteriorating situation blow up by way of my finger on the detonator, I can say that it's just who I am.

I keep an eye out for moments or moments with people. I have too, I know that nothing lasts forever and I want to savor what I can.

These moments mean everything to me even if they mean nothing to you. Everyone goes away and things change for a reason.

I never know when it's going to happen, but I try to be prepared for it. It would be criminal of me to not let it happen, to not fall in love with anything, to not try anything new, to not endure what's inevitable. How will I ever learn?

Everybody makes promises they can't keep and everybody has conditions when it comes to accepting things. I have yet to meet anyone who has fully accepted the good and the bad when it comes to me. That's okay, every time this happens I get a little bit smarter.
I have to figure out why it was memorable and why it was bad so I can avoid it next time.

I just want to know why it was memorable.

The same way you do with an amazing dish or meal. Whether it's really good or really bad you will never forget it. You can't help but think about it.

Even if you want to forget about it, you're still thinking about it.

I love to make cake. I love to eat cake and every year for my birthday I want only one thing, a birthday cake with candles so that I can make a wish. My wish is always the same year after year, in one way or another I wish to fall in love with myself.

Just as I have with so many other things that have come and gone in my life.

I might love cake as much as I love macaroni and cheese.

At least I love something.

I enjoy making cakes for people because most people can appreciate the effort that goes into making a beautifully made and decorated cake. As an awakening artist I look at my cakes as something I create rather than just as something I make.

Everyone can be an artist.

Sometimes I think I missed my calling...

An old friend of mine a while ago gave me a compliment. I had made him a cake and after only smelling it he said "Your cake makes my dick hard."

I can appreciate this type of comment, it was the best thing he could've said.

It was my birthday a while back and I felt like I celebrated my birth, died and was reborn all in a matter of days.

It was agony. It was refreshing. It was inevitable.

I'm still not sure where to go from here, but I know that I'm still going and I'm not ready to give up yet.

There were some dark days, they were my fault.

Although, I did think about my death. I though about what it would be like if I died. I wanted to die.
My brain automatically went to food. I though about my funeral and if people would be sad if I was gone. I know they would be, because I'd be sad if I lost you.

And then I asked...Why is there always Birthday Cake, but no Funeral Cake.

I thought about funerals and all the shit food that people bring to them.

Think about it, you're already sad over the loss of a loved one or friend, why would you eat anything they served you at a funeral.
Its awful. It's usually heavy, starchy, greasy and covered in cheese.

Sounds like a dream come true!

Not for me.

I want cake at my funeral, I want you all to eat cake. I want you to indulge in the bittersweet of my death. If you're going to be sad I at least want you eat some amazing cake and know that if I were alive, I would be right there with you.

Make my cake beautiful, for all the times I never felt it. Make it white and layered like a wedding cake, just in case I never get to have one. Fill it with chocolate fudge and vanilla cream because it's my favorite. Make the butter cream layer Swiss because its the best, and please add chocolate covered strawberries to it because they are so simple, yet say so much when you eat them. Cover it in layers of fondant to cover any minor imperfections it may have. Decorate it with hand made red roses for romance.
Lastly put one candle in the top of it for me, and one in your piece.
When you finally get your piece of cake blow out your candle make a wish for yourself because I'm wishing for you too.
I'm wishing that you always find some kind of magic and love in yourself.
I'm wishing that you never give up hope in anything.
I'm wishing that you find the freedom from all the things that are holding you down.
I'm wishing that if anyone makes you feel bad that you can still look past it and see the good in them.
I'm wishing that you learn from everything you can.
And lastly I'm wishing that even if things go bad you can always find a way start over.

That's a lot of wishes.
But there's a lot of me!

This isn't the end, just a minor breakdown.

Sometimes it feels like the end, but it can always be a new beginning.

I'm not saying I'm ready to go, but if I had to go I would want you all to enjoy some...


Funeral Cake.

Love,
Trixie

Oh Little Lea!

This one is actually kind of serious, but I promise to keep it real.
When I was little they used to call me Little Lea, and I fucking hated it!
So they then called me Little Maggie instead after my mom. I think I hated that more.

My family doesn't really understand the whole Trixie thing.
It's the same fight, they don't know why I like the name or where it came from. They just know that they sometimes don't like her and the things she does.

They love Lea, they love everything about her. Lea was pleasing, she was funny, she was nice no matter what and she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Lea didn't really tell the truth though. A lot of you have seen this birth or evolution of Trixie and think you may know when it happened, but the truth is...she was always there. I can't give away the full story of the name because I believe that some things are meaningful and sacred and they are just for me.
Here is another TRUTH...
I didn't like Lea. I hated her.
Trixie has a lot of the good qualities that Lea had, it was all the bad I was trying to get rid of.
My methods may be extreme and for all the wrong reasons but I'm not a quitter and I will keep my word. I will get the damn job done.

Trixie thinks, Trixie says, Trixie does...

We look up to other people and its okay, right? We look up to famous people for fucks sake. Why couldn't I create somebody like this in myself. I knew a long time ago I didn't like who I was. I just didn't know how to make everyone stop force feeding me bullshit. Emphasis on feeding.
Makes sense now right? Who said there are rules...?

Fuck the rules, I'm gonna break them anyways.
And I'm gonna fight until the day I die, because I believe in this more than I have ever believed or loved anything in my entire life.

I think this is always who I was and it was something that had to happen.
A couple of assholes helped out, so thanks ASSHOLES you know who you are! But really it takes an individual a long time to figure out what they want or who they are. It then takes even longer to realize how to attain it. How to achieve your goal. It's up to the individual.
We're all just people in this world and we're all just trying to make it, right? I forget that sometimes.
I said to someone last week "I really feel like life gave me the shit end of the stick and tried to shove it in my ass." Who is ever really ready for that?
What do you do? Who do you become? When are you content with your life?
I have so many questions still and I don't know if they'll ever get answered.

It's a fucking mystery sometimes.

What I have figured out is who I want to be and some of the things I want to do. I know that I don't want to worry if I've made someone mad or pissed them off. When I do something stupid I would hope that someone tells me. Don't worry he usually does, she does too!

I want to do the same thing for everyone that I love, because I do. I fucking love all of you.

Sometimes when I'm around my family or old friends I have to turn off Trixie and she hates that. It has to be done to an extent, I can't leave a trail or bloodbath everywhere I go.

The World needs me.

Saturday, I saw a lot of people. More people than I wanted to. I saw my family, other members of my family and another family that is like my family.
When you're Mexican and you live in a community with other Mexican families you become attached. You become one giant family and it doesn't change. Somehow you all know each other through someone else. You will always be treated like family no matter how old you get or how far away you move. It doesn't matter that you don't even know half of them, they will still welcome you with open fucking arms. They usually have a plate of food waiting in one hand and a beer in the other but it's all for you.

It's actually an incredible feeling. I had distanced myself from it for so long that I forgot what it was like.

Saturday I stopped to see one of my oldest friends and a bunch of her family was visiting from Florida and other States. The ladies were all on the porch, the children were chasing each other everywhere and the men were in the back yard at a table covered in empty beer bottles.
The whole scene made me smile. It brought back happy memories.

I asked my old friend what she did for the day and who everyone was. She filled me in and she said "You should have gotten here earlier, we had Menudo."
Menudo, a piece of every Mexican.

It's a slightly spicy, broth soup with hominy and tripe. Tripe the edible part of the cow's stomach. It has to be cleaned and boiled because it's so chewy. It's texture is similar to calamari.

I wanted some. It's not as high in calories as you would think, but it is high in memories for me so if I ever get the chance to eat it I will.

One of my old friends aunts heated me up a bowl and set it in front of me with chopped onions, lime wedges and a plate of corn tortillas.
She served me so much and told her not too much, but she looked at me and rolled her eyes. She said "Thats hardly anything, you should eat more."

I smiled at her and graciously picked up my spoon.

It was good. It was warm and spicy. I felt like I did in my childhood years. I though about my mom, my grandma, and I thought about myself. I felt at ease and calm for a second.

Then I looked up and saw a little girl run past me.

She had to be about seven years old. She had long dark hair in a ponytail with multi-colored ribbons hanging from it.
She had chubby cheeks and she was so cute.
She was so fucking cute!
She was so fucking fat!
She was me, she was Little Lea.

She looked at me and she said "I have to pee!"

I laughed at her and she smiled back at me.
I didn't even know who's kid she was, but I was already in love with her because she reminded me of myself at that age.

She walked out of the bathroom fixed her skirt, and pulled her extremely stretched too thin shirt over her belly. I could not stop smiling at her.

She ran back outside to play and I watched her for a bit.

I visited a bit longer, ate everything else they kept trying to feed me and then said my goodbyes.

I said goodbye to my friend and I waved goodbye to the little girl. She looked at me like she had something to say but she just smiled. She waved and yelled goodbye.
Then she yelled something that wasn't English or Spanish and she came running at me.

I opened my arms and she hugged me. She said goodbye and I didn't want to let go.

I wanted to hold her for a minute. I wanted to give her all my hopes, all my dreams and everything I've learned up until now. I wanted her to have these things so that she doesn't have to learn them the hard way. I wanted her to know that someday she would understand why things were they way they were and that she would be strong and old enough to change them. I wanted to make sure that someday she would wake up and feel amazing and realize how much she was worth and how much she deserved.

She was just a child, and what did I know. Maybe she wont have to learn all the things I did.
I let her go and she smiled at me. She went back to chasing her brother or cousin or whatever he was, who knows with all those damn kids.

I got in my car and drove home. I cried when I was halfway home.
It was far away enough from everyone, but not close enough to what is expected of me.
It was safe.

It was like what I felt as a child, I just wanted to feel safe because I didn't know how to change anything.

It reminded me of what I was doing and what all this struggle was for. It gave me some direction and some closure. I let go of some of the anger I was holding onto for so long.

I hated being called Little Lea when I was younger so they started calling me Little Maggie instead.
I don't know which was worse but I know now that it was something that had to happen so that I could be this person I am today.

Oh Little Lea!

Please take care of yourselves because I need you and I love you. And that is not wrong or unacceptable.

Trixie