It Never Happens the Way We Think It Will Happen

I agree 💯!!

Teri Carter's Library

imagesI am walking my dog when it happens. The woman does not see me. The woman does not see my dog. The woman points her car my way and guns it, and when I see she doesn’t see me—doesn’t see my bright blue shirt nor my arm waving ‘hello neighbor’ in the air nor my big yellow lab standing at the side of her driveway—I dive to my right and the bumper of her car clips my hip and I tumble down and over the newly-mowed grass of her lawn and the next thing I know I’m lying there, just lying there, pushing to get up and looking at my dog looking down at me with her tail wagging, wagging wagging wagging. The dog licks my hand. We are alive, the dog seems to say. We are okay.

For the last decade I’ve been walking my dogs in a downtown…

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What Sucks about him…

I may love him but there are so many things that suck about him. One of the things that suck, is that he’s the male version of me. I always fantasize about monogomy and wanting one person. I dream about the perfect guy and that he’s going to love me like he’s loved no other person. In the end u may have that one guy but then I find myself talking to about two or three other man. I have this analogy that you need your main man to make your emotional/physical side satisfied, and your fan men. Your fan men boost yourself esteem. They make you feel pretty even when you feel ugly. It’s awesome that I think this way in my perspective, but the truth is that when you really like someone you want them to yourself only and all those people who are your fans and boost your self esteem don’t matter. Not one bit. This is the part that sucks. He thinks the same way. I want to be his main, but I know I’m not the only one and that kills me. You can’t have me and have her and her! Pick one! Oh, but then I’m such a hypocrite because in life you don’t get the best of both worlds! 

So he likes to wear beanies, IN THE SUMMER! WHO DOES THAT! Is your head not sweaty? Don’t get me wrong, I live for style! Fashion is my passion. Your outfit expresses who you are, it is your identity! No one can take that away from you. But pleaseeeee dress weather appropriate. I should not be feeling hot for you. 

One of my pet peeves is when someone does not let me finish my sentence. ARE YOU IN MY HEAD! Many times I begin to talk and he assumes the ending to everything I want to say. 1. We do not think alike , 2. Our analogy of life is different , and 3. Your logic and mine are not the same. LET ME SPEAK AND BREATH! 

What sucks about him….is to be continued.

Dream as if you’ll live forever, Live as if you’ll die today

Love this blog!

Ramblings of a College Introvert

We’re responsive creatures, always yearning for some kind of carnal or spiritual fulfillment. So many of our conversations are dedicated to that one question: What makes us feel alive? For me it’s neither people nor adventures. It’s the shapes and colors that make up a city I love.

When I took a semester off in Cali, all I could think about was how much I missed NYC and how exciting it would be to blog about college life there. But four months after I returned to NYU I’ve only written four posts on my adventures here in the Big Apple. Ostensibly it’s because I just haven’t had the time. In reality it’s because I’ve kind of lost confidence in my writing. I don’t think I’ll ever be as good a writer as I would like to be, and I certainly don’t think I’m good enough to capture the sense of wonder I feel every time…

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Learning to feed my hunger

An Honest Mom

I will never let another pair of pants tell me I’m fat again.

This from the mouth of my friend Rachael, as she speared another piece of perfectly roasted cauliflower off of the plate in front of us. We met for drinks, Rachael and I, and as the fathers of our children readied our kids for bed, we ordered another cocktail.

I eyed that tiny plate of cauliflower with resentment. It was so good. And there was so little. What a tease tapas can be.

R’s declaration convinced me of what I already knew—I must go buy new jeans.

IMG_4217 Familiar, anyone?

Oh, the ever changing expanse of the post partum body. I’ve been rail thin with huge boobs to very squishy and everything in between. The rail-thinness was the product of exhaustion, depression, and breastfeeding in my first four months with Jo. I remember being stunned by the sight of…

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The wrong kind of Love. 

My whole life I’ve been the girl who has to learn how to love someone. I guess I don’t know what love is since my parents didn’t love me. I grew up in the foster care system. Although I don’t know what it is, I feel a certain way about certain people. It’s a feeling that I can’t control. A feeling that makes knots in my stomach. Those feelings then turn into thoughts, but the bad kind of thoughts. I want him to myself. I want him but I know I can’t have him. He’s forbidden for me. We know of each other since we’ve grown up in the same family. Christmas of 2010 under the mistletoe toe is what started it all. I knew after that first kiss that I felt a certain way. I couldn’t describe it so I ignored it. Last year I went to Italy and luck had us both in the country but in different cities. We tried to meet up but never really made the effort to do so. Distance made me forget about my feelings. Then fate played its card in my life. December of 2014 I went to the Dominican Republic to meet my dads side of the family. There he was, in front of my grandmothers porch. He rode a white motor scooter. He came in, and the smile that reached ear to ear on my face is one I will never forget. He felt my vibe and I felt his. I wanted to go out that night. So we did. We went to a bar and drank Barcelon. One of the best whiskeys ever! The adrenaline  of the motor scooters is fun. The chilled air went through my body and I remember him calling me shorty. I replied and said ” Oh, so I’m your shorty?” He says ” what are you trying to be my wife?” I smiled and a part of me thought “hell yeah!” We shared a nice night and at the end I grabbed his hand and said ” are you going to leave with out giving me a good night kiss?” There is was,that knot in my stomach. Being together is wrong and me loving him the way I do is wrong because my family raised him and although he isn’t my bloodline family member his grandfather is married to my aunt. Which means that by law we are cousins. 25 days in DR taught me to trust him, believe in his word, and have faith in the love I had for him. New Years night was the first time we had sex. Now my emotions are involved. My thoughts are sick to another level. I want to have this man be the father of my kids.ine of the things I enjoy about him is that he is a risk taker and doesn’t comply to the law. He smuggled drugs to the U.S and get away with it. When I left DR I was devastated because I was going to miss him. I asked the gods and my saints to in the future bring him and I together. Exactly that is what happened. He was caught at Jfk with 100 cocaine pellets in his stomach. When my dad called me and told me I knew I had to get him out of there. I went through homeland security, jfk customs, and the DEA to find him. They all lead me to his attorney. His attorney called me his savior. He said he was lucky to have me because the family that raised him neglected him. We set up a court hearing for the next day at 11 am. I studied all federal crimes and ways to win a federal case. My plan was to go in speak my case and get him out. That was exactly what I did. I spoke to the judge and presented myself in a way that allowed me to win the case. My baby came home with me! I won a federal case. In the end the judge told me I should consider studying law. Maybe one day I will. Over all I bailed the man I’m in love with out and as usual there is a catch because nothing in life is easy. The man I’m in love with is under my custody. Legally I am now his mother! They say things happen for a reason. I hope this is a good one. My job is to keep him safe and make sure he does well. In my eyes I saved him. He was always hungry and homeless in DR. This is the wrong kind of love. My family has turned their back on me and history repeats itself. I say history because my birth mother did the same thing.