Posts Tagged ‘Janessa’

His face always had a smile on it. Curious to what troubled me, he always seemed to have a solution to any problem I came to him with. When I think of adjectives to describe him I come up with: handsome, cheerful, smart (oh, that is a big one for me), caring, thoughtful and just so easy to talk to. Ernesto was his name and this is the story of how our relationship came to an end.

By what means do you normally judge a person? I ask that both rhetorically and literally. Think about that for a second…

…seriously, don’t be a jerk. Take a second and ask yourself how you deem whether or not someone is a good person. I can wait…

We meet new people just about everyday. From our brief interactions during trips to the grocery stores to the people we see for eight hours a day, five days a week at work. I have no doubt that all of us adjust our “Judge” filters accordingly. When you see a person in the checkout line all thugged out. The filter most likely is set to minimum. Allowing only the vague face value information to register in order to make a quick assessment. Whereas maximum filtration is used when decoding a fellow employee. You know outside of work they wear their mohawk and piercings with pride. While you think nothing of it, because the suit and tie work attire you see them in five days a week, prevented any prejudices to form allowing you to get to know them in an uninhibited manner.

Is this a bad thing? I like to think it isn’t. Our filters exist and are calibrated so, to allow those of our preference to enter our lives for the better. If we are to trust another human being, a more scrutinized observation must be made of them. Which is why I feel we are more open to hearing out those who we often share a close proximity with. Rather than a fly-by judgement of those we meet on the street or in the womens lingerie department (I am talking about you creepy jacket in the middle of 82 degree weather-man standing worryingly close to me in the Victoria’s Secret store, staring intently while I check out the new Angel’s stone encrusted lace push up!!!!!). As we look for companionship of any sorts, we dig deep, break through the apparent, and stave off the obvious just so we know whether or not we should allow an individual to become someone we desire to be around. Sadly, some filter all people at all levels solely based on race, sexual orientation and other no true character-related qualities. There doesn’t seem to be much we can do about them. But hopefully the “Asshole Bill” I keep suggesting via emails to my local senator can be introduced sometime in the near future.

It is at this juncture that we allow ourselves to take our judgements and either bestow or withhold the trust needed to maintain a healthy relationship. It may be at this point we call these individuals our friends. Which may also perpetuate the trust further allowing for feelings to develop into something more. Or, just maybe bring forth so much trust that you seek them out in your times of need. That when they speak, their words bring comfort to a distraught mind. And as you welcome the strong embrace of everything you originally assessed them to be. You let go and allow yourself to be comforted by their fortitude. All while they take control and help the world make sense again.

Ernesto was that kind of person…

I met him by means of random encounter. It was a clear bright day and though Albuquerque was traversing through the end-trails of Fall. The brisk air and low arching sun made for a comfortable Autumn midday. I had pulled over in need of a tire change when low and behold, a strange man emerged from the business I had pulled in front of. It is easy to guess that Ernesto is who I am speaking of. The surprise for those who know me will be that I relinquished the duty of a simple tire change to someone other than myself. (On a side note- One of the few things my dad did for me when I was young was teach me to never be afraid to pick up a wrench or a hammer. Under my father’s direction, I was taught how to change tires and what applications particular parts play in the operation of a car’s engine. I consider myself rather capable.) However, it was one of those circumstances where I had no need to say a thing. With every bit of assurance, he took charge,  made the change, smiled at me and disappeared just as soon as he made his presence first known.

Truthfully, I was taken back a little. He was charming, reassuring and there just to help me. As I began my descent home, I was briefly caught in a fantasy of sorts. I wondered if I would see him again. Thinking about what kind of person he really was and whether or not I would someday be able to get to know him more. I was ready to engage my next level of filtration for a person I had spent no less than ten minutes with. It was a little weird, but I had my heart set on seeing him again.

As the days passed as they tend to do. Ernesto ventured further and further from my mind. Only the observations of the routine checks of my tires would bring back the memories of what happened that Autumn day. Upon recollection, I would entertain the thought of once again driving into that very same parking lot where we first met. Curious to know if Ernesto would be there and as eager to help with any issues I had.  

Those too were just mere thoughts that went just as fast as they came.

That was until one day, I was on that very same road pulling into that very same parking lot in need of rectifying a very familiar problem. Was it fate, not really. I knew I had a tire on it’s last leg. I knew where to go if I needed help…and so I went and he was there.

We actually had a chance to talk this time around. Exchanging tidbits of information with one another. The conversation felt as genuine as one with my best friend. Every bit of the encounter just seemed organic and it made me feel at ease. Again a tire was changed and again I was on my way to my intended destination. This time though, I had a phone number with me and promise that if I ever needed anything, he wanted to be the one who would be there for me.

To be honest I never felt bad for using that phone number for what he asked me to use it for. Whenever I needed something, I would go to him and he would make everything better. It was a mutual thing between us. He got his and I got mine. Never upset with the outcome and he was always happy to see me just as I was to see him. I felt as though our relationship had gotten to the point to where I could really trust him. I had run him through my filter and I felt as though my judgement of this man was solid.

It was at the pinnacle of our relations that something drastic happened. I needed help and the only one I could think of to turn to was Ernesto. I knew he would be the one to help make things right, help solve the problems and make all the bad go away. It was the latest that I had ever called him. He didn’t seem too bothered by the time and urged me to come over. Part of the predicament was finding a way to get to him, but I was so headstrong that he was to be my knight in shining armor. I did what I normally wouldn’t do and hailed for a ride from someone I didn’t know just to get to him.

He laid out a plan to be followed and with his charming smile, told me everything was going to be okay. I was worried; I knew what had happened was going to be costly. But under Ernesto’s direction, I agreed to his plan and felt a little more at ease considering what had happened.

A few weeks later I had adjusted to the changes that resulted from my earlier misfortunes. It was around that time that Ernesto had called me to inform me that he had righted the wrong and what cost I was to incur as the result. To be frank, the cost was money. He needed it in order to finish what had been started by his means to solve my problem. But it wasn’t the only news he had for me. He needed more dough. He explained that he had essentially opened pandora’s box. That more problems were discovered from attempting to solve the initial one.

I was devastated. I was looking forward to getting my life back to normal but things just seemed to go from bad to worse. I had handed him over $1,900 to satisfy the first problem but just as I did that he asked how soon I could get him the $200 more to start mending the next. It was going to take some time. Christmas had just passed and money was short, but I had no doubt that he still was to be my hero once all the dust had settled.

A few more weeks had passed and I met him to deliver the money. He seemed content at the moment but a concern was in his eyes that I had never seen before. He wasn’t much for conversation that day. So I went on my way daydreaming of positive things to come. But it was short lived.

A phone call from Ernesto a few days later confirmed a suspicion I had lingering in the back of my mind. He was at odds with the task he had volunteered to mend. The money I had given him had ran out and he needed more. $2000 more to be exact.  Not just that but he wanted more time to finish what he started. It had already been two months and my day to day was becoming increasingly difficult to manage…my faith in him was beginning to falter.

At this point in time, he had involved himself so deep into this matter that I had no choice but to continue to trust him. He had to finish what he started there was no turning around at that point. Each subsequent phone call did nothing more than strip away at everything that bonded our relationship. Arguments began to happen between us, spurred on by my growing distaste at the reasons he fed me and his now much harsher tone. I was seeing myself become angrier as the days went on. Not just with him but with everyone around me. This was affecting me a lot more and was encroaching into other areas of my life. Family and friends who knew of Ernesto’s involvement all had an opinion. And as much as they were trying to help, all it was doing was making matters worse by aiding in the erosion of the trust between him and me.

It had come to the point that I could not trust anything Ernesto was telling me. I had to get someone else involved – someone I knew would have my interests at heart and not be operating on their own agenda. The feedback was not very comforting. I was informed that Ernesto was telling me the truth as to what needed to be done in order to finish what he started. But the cost was another story. The amount of money was questionable. Yet,  there was little that anyone could do now. Ernesto was in complete control of the situation… I was at his mercy and he knew it.

He had destroyed my belief that all people have an inherent good within them. That when the chips are down, heroes will emerge from the unlikeliest places. I looked to him to be my hero. I ran him through the judgement gauntlet and I felt as though I had placed my trust in the right person. I WAS BEATEN… all while he was holding my well-being ransom for the remainder of the amount he had asked for.

As budgets were adjusted to meet the demands of Ernesto. I was hardly able to enjoy any comfort in the matter. The light that began to flood the end of this deep gloomy tunnel reflected nothing more than gloomy skies. For I knew that my next encounter with Ernesto was to be my last. Oh, how it ended with such a display of fireworks.

Three and a half months and $3100 later it was over. I hated him, I hated myself, and I hated who I had become because of it.

I sought out clarity by means of conversations with someone very dear to me, my mother. She was the neutral party in the whole matter and never let her opinion bias what advice she gave. She helped me realize that the trust I had placed in him was valid. That I should never doubt my abilities to discern the viability of an individual. And that trust will remain until MY view changes of them, but, even when that view changes and the trust dissipates, the other party’s intentions still may have been pure.

It was my evolving perception that ultimately changed the dynamics between Ernesto and myself. I realized that as our encounters, interactions, and circumstances changed, my initial judgement of him was no longer valid, though I had originally scrutinised his worth with heavy filtration. Once the trust began to dispel into oblivion, I abandoned the means to properly asses him and started to judge him utilizing only very broad and bitterly acquired data. I can only assume that he had done the same with his changes towards me.

It is with this revelation that I now carry around a slightly bruised ego. I blindedly let myself and others shape my outlook of another individual who was doing nothing more than his best to help me out. It may not have been done within an acceptable cost or timeline. However, in the end, everything was rectified and my life was able to resume back to normal. I should have taken a second and realized that Ernesto was doing nothing more than what he felt he was best capable of.

I would like to think now that most everyone in this world views their efforts as genuine. Aside from the occasional idiot with a gun and a fucked up mindset, there is little out there that would prove that “we the people” go about our day with intentions to hinder the growth and prosperity of another individual. Ernesto proved that in the end. Once I refiltered everything about this man. I realized that, in summation, he was a great mechanic after all. My car runs beautifully now.


As adults we pride ourselves on our ability to be inDEPENDent. And those of us who have young kids can easily witness the desire for one’s inDEPENDence. But have you ever stopped to evaluate all what you DEPEND on during the course of your day. How much of it is a bonafide DEPENDency and how much of it could you do without if it was gone tomorrow. Pose this question to any individual cognitive on the matter and as sure as shit smells like poo they will say, “well, it DEPENDs…”.  (study conducted using a “pew” poll) :p

I tend to find it arrogant how individuals assume a stance of total self reliance. For some reason, we have developed an ideology that we throw out the humility and make attempts to prove we can do everything ourselves?

Scientific studies in evolution show that we adapt certain behavioral traits as means to better a species development, increase survival rates or to conform to the ebs of the creatures surroundings.

But why though, what are we actually proving and what benefit are we gaining from this facade?

Maybe if we act as though we can do it all ourselves. We are able to trick our minds into achieving the impossible. But isn’t that what the credit lenders have been doing to us as a societal whole? Creating the illusion of wealth with extended credit. To say it nicely, that shiz has worked out just as well as this man’s promotion of Mr. Mitt’s  campaign.

Have we simply created the illusion of a life, where we can callously go about our day without acknowledging the fact that we depend on so many people and mundane luxuries to make it palatable?

As for myself, I believe I have come to confront this concept in action once or twice. Not to mention, the negative side-effects of not acknowledging the respect that these ideals deserve.

(Flashback sequence) (Special Effects) (Noises)

About three years ago, my lovely leading lady Kristle and I decided that we should try a new approach in the ways of earning a living. That approach involved a move from our humble home in Albuquerque to the unknown, rural, savage land of Denver.

We had done everything to try and prepare for our departure. Along with our eventual return back home. Those plans included; securing a job for myself, seeking residence in our new local. As well as finding suitable tenants for our home in Albuquerque. We loved our house so much that we wanted to make sure we had someplace special to come back to.

Everything went as planned except for one major thing. We were not able to find a renter in time for our departure. At the time, Kristle’s source of income was an in-home daycare business. If she had decided to move to Denver with me, we would be lacking her contribution to the finances. As well as still paying for our tenantless home back in the Duke City. We had come to terms with her not having a job in Denver. But not with the additional burden of a mortgage.

Arrogant that we would be able to handle things better going our separate ways. I made my way to Denver, leaving Kristle in Albuquerque to maintain her business. This was to be until we resolved the issue of finding a reasonable suiter for our home.

My partner and I were separated from each other for the first time. Granted we have taken short trips away from one another before. But this length of time was at a magnitude greater than our foundation was registered to handle.

I never realized how much more I had to do to care for myself. To put it nicely, I enjoyed the likes of cereal more often than just breakfast time. There was more to it than that though. I found I was lost during the course of my day. An upheaval to my inner tranquility had taken place. The hugs, the kisses, the meals, the snuggling on the couches and all the things she silently did for me were now deafeningly absent.

We were all too confident that the house renting process would only take a few months at most. Those few months soon turned into six. Then those six months turned into a nightmare.

Kristle was the love of my life. We were two women that found each other as opposites. Yet, we managed to create a symbiotic life of love through the wake of cultural taboos. I kissed a girl and I liked-ed it.

However, despite our love, our social triumphs and all our plans It seemed that it wasn’t enough to stop what was becoming of our solidarity.

What happened during that time frame…
The separation shocked the very dynamics of our everyday lives. We began to learn how to go about our day to day without each other. Our DEPENDencies changed…we had lost a connection we had spent so many years creating with one another.

It took me awhile to figure all that out. We had survived so much as a couple in the past. It was such an eye opener to what a half’s year time apart could do.

Gratefully, I can report that our relationship survived and is thriving till this day. Kristle still is the love of my life and we once again have learned to DEPEND on one another for love and support. However, this whole ordeal changed our relationship.

…It changed me.

(and scene)(End Flash Back)(More Noise)

Admittedly, I often find myself settling into a groove when things become too familiar. So at times,  I am no exception to the list of those who negate the existence of all that we depend on.

But as with most of my epiphanies, they are usually inspired by life events being their cute little selves. By “cute” I mean “Life Changing Mother Fuckers”.

And the most adorable event just played itself out during all of last month. One which helped me revisit these very thoughts on DEPENDencies. Though the contents of the events would make for intriguing reading in it’s own right. I choose to limit specifics and create a veil of anonymity for the two beautiful little lives that were involved.

I will say this on the matter though. Kristle and I realized we would have done anything we could for those two. If it came to it, they would have been welcomed into our family with open arms and lots of love. Even though doing so would have changed our outlook on what we thought we DEPENDed on for a life of happiness and prosperity.

The marvel of this whole experience is the realization that children don’t have much to prove. They live very unadulterated lives when left to their own devices. Kids are not afraid to let it all hang out. Especially when it comes to the things they DEPEND on. They show it with their eyes, their hugs, their cries and their smiles.

It isn’t until an outside influence comes along and takes that bit of innocence away from them. Then they become like us adults, scared and too proud to admit that we all have DEPENDencies in one way or another.

I wish all what had transpired as of late consisted of a more favorable ending. We did what we could in the best way we knew how. And will forever be there if those kiddos need to DEPEND on us again.

Still, I am humbled by lessons revisited by another life event being “cute”.  With that being said, I plan on making efforts to express appreciations for dependencies fulfilled. Till I need to be reminded again at least.

Mind you, I don’t think I could handle converting into a self-reliant twig eating naturalist. The leafy green toiletries would not jive with my sensitive outlets.

~~Cute Janessa~~

Thanks for reading everyone! As always I enjoy the conversation about the topic at hand. In the comments below. Tell me about some of things you depend that you feel you couldn’t do without if it was gone tomorrow.

Happy birthday to me!!!

Well, not exactly. Happy birth-month would be the most accurate way to put it. I am rather late in telling myself congrats on surviving another year, but I think I can forgive myself. As the title implies, this months marks the 29th anniversary of my birth. This year marks a particularly special year for myself for reasons that barely make sense to me. I will make attempts to fill you in on why…

A bit of reflection is in order in order to completely bring my thoughts full circle.

Years back…I did dumb stuff.      ~~Fin~~

Okay, well maybe more details then?

I was a daredevil to be succinct. I loved pushing boundaries, my own manly. I was a good kid growing up, hardly ever strayed beyond the confines of my mothers wishes. However, oh man did I love exploring and adventures. My excursions often possessed a local flavor really. It wasn’t till I owned a vehicle that I started taking the liberties of travel a little more for granted. In attempts of being less vague here are a few habits to note.

I was a climber, that was me. Houses, trees, buildings, mountains and anything that looked like it could provide a challenge. So as a young-in, skirts were never much a preference.

I rode the skate parks. I was no x-gamer but I rode vert (common skate park lingo meaning Ramps with vertical walls tapering towards the edge of the ramp). It was enough to give me a good little buzz and gain rep among the other skate park nerds.

I rode everywhere, I had a bike as my initial means of transport. I knew Albuquerque inside and out. Alleyways, backstreets and freeways were my means of passage. Yes, I said freeways…

I pole vaulted. A defining part of my youth as a daredevil. In a not so modest way to put it, I was good. Best in the state and traveled to represent said state two years in a row among other athletes in the southwest. If you have never seen this sport, first you are missing out. Second here is a link Watch it, obviously I am not in the video but oh man I just heart watching that shiz!

My life post graduation (and sadly, post pole vaulting) was more of the same.

You know those backstops at baseball parks that protect crowds, cars  and spectators. Ya, did a handstand one of those.

You know the Damn Del Hover, (that’s mexican for Hover Damn [I am Mexican, so internet rules allow me to use that joke]). Ya I did a handstand on the edge of that.

Various other things around the city. I had a very amusing picture of me atop the Carlise stop light at the Gibson intersection. There was a lot of honking going on. I am sure I gave plenty of people water cooler stories that day.

So ya, that was the short list of dumb stuff I did. More so, that is some of the stuff that defined me. I was never popular in school, I say school because that unpopularity rein began in Elementary and ended my Junior year of High School. The few friends I had just egged me on. I hung around guys mainly, not to out of sorts for a tomboy. It did make for some every creative interactions when we were bored of my normal daredeviling. But it was me, Janessa.

Now let us return to what this all means. Of all my live fast thoughts I had. There was one that has been bouncing around my head since I began my daring feats.

That being, “I never see myself surviving beyond 30.”

Why 30, eff I don’t know. But the thought was strong in my head then, morbidly, very much so still now. The thought lingers still and every day’s end brings me closer to my perceived  expiration date.

Deep down I know it not to be true and the Atheist in me just gives me the stink eye whenever the thought passes through my mind.

It is a weird thing mortality. I am not afraid of dying and if my end is near so be it. I think I scare my other-half with these thoughts more than myself. Strangely, I have been motivated by the thoughts of my passing.

Enter blog. I want this year to be documented in some way. If for some reason I was clairvoyant about my death I want to have fun with it. I want to share with others my inner thoughts. Maybe give my kids something to look back at and see what kind of person their mom was at this point in her life.

So for the remaining 11 months I have left. (Joke) I will blog what matters most to me. If all goes according to plan, I will also translate these passages to my YouTube channel.

Hope you all are ready for the ride!