Saturday, December 19, 2015

The time I nearly got arrested

Now that I am on break I now have more time to actually sit down and write. Which means... STORY TIME! I actually do not remember when was the last time I have told you a story so here we go!

As most of you know I am currently a freshman in college going to university in the United States and I will not lie to you all I feel like a baby again because I am experiencing so many things for the first time again that it is frightening but at the same time exciting. At the end of my fall semester instead of taking a bus like I did in Thanksgiving to go see my family, I was going to fly. I have flown before, multiple times but never have I flown on my own. My anxiety on a scale from one to ten was about a seven on that early morning. I could not stop feeling bad for putting my kindhearted mentor in the position of taking me to the airport such early hours of the morning. At least that lowered some of my anxiety because now I just had to worry about getting through the airport on my own.

Arriving at the airport it was about four in the morning, I thank my mentor and I wish her a Merry Christmas before I close the passenger door behind me. Pulling my purple suitcase behind me, I look back to make sure that I had everything before entering the airport. The line was not so bad to check in my suitcase, ever since I was a little girl I have been told to always arrive at least two hours before the flight to ensure that what has to get done could be done without having to stress over missing the flight. While the suitcase goes through a security check point of its own I begin to head to my own security check point. The line was again not long. For those of you who do not know when you arrive at the airport before any flight you have to check-in any bags you want to take along with you to the flight but do not want to carry throughout the journey. Then you have a carry-on that you can carry along with you onto the plane but you and that bag has to go through a separate security of its own. By protocol you have to remove all the layers that is not your pants, shirt, or socks and have to put in a tub to go through a scanner. The same procedure goes for your liquids (you want to make sure that all of your liquids are below the amount you can carry with you) and that if you are carrying a laptop to take out of the case. At this point I thought I was doing pretty well, even patting myself on the back a bit for being able to get through this all on my own. Until it was my turn to go through the scanner. At the airport they have these portable X-ray machines that swivels around you and inspects your body for any weapons or prohibited items. Since I have not been placed in one of these X-ray swivel machines, I could not stop the feeling like I was a criminal. Even after I went through the machine I had to get my head patted because I displayed signs of danger. I was not even wearing my hair up in fact I was wearing a beanie because I did not bother to brush my hair for the flight. Gathering my belongings I realized that one of my tubs did not return to me which caused me to panic. Going through security is a fast paced process so losing something during that I would not blame you. Scanning my surroundings I find my missing tub only one of the officers was holding it and I already knew something wrong was bound to happen. 

Some of this conversation is altered but here is how I mainly remember.
"Those are my belongings" I state worriedly.
"I need you to step aside ma'am" the officer signals behind the scanner.
"Ma'am are you carrying any sharp weapons with you today?"
"...Not that... wait... *heart drops as the officer approaches my wallet* I have a sharp weapon in the pocket of my wallet"
"We have asked you multiple times for sharp weapons..."
"I am so sorry I have forgotten that there was a knife there. I am sorry. So sorry..." my voice softens.
"You cannot take this knife with you on the plane, do you have someone you can give this knife to? Or can you put this knife in your check-in luggage?"
"I already checked in my bag, is there a way I can mail the knife to my house?"
"There is a mailing center but we do not sale stamps."
"Okay... Well let me call my friend.."

Just when I thought there was a light at the end of the tunnel, I hit a wall. Not only was I feeling bad that my mentor drop me off early in the morning and sacrificed a portion of her sleep for me but she had to turn around and come back to pick up my knife. At this point I am not sure if I am able to get over this amount of guilt that has build up in just half an hour. In order to give my knife to my mentor I had to remove myself for the security check point meaning that once when I hand over my knife to her I have to go through security a second time. TWICE! Because once was just not enough... Even on my second time around I had to get my head patted. Now I am starting to think that there is something my head that even I do not know about. Forgetting what humiliation felt like, this day has sure reminded me of that sensation. I also lost my favorite beanie that day to top the whole disaster. 

Well guys now you know that anything can pretty much go when you are traveling. If you are doing any traveling at some point of your life just remember to leave all potential weapons and prohibited items at home. Have someone check you before you are pulled away by an officer for further questioning. I actually thought I was going to put through customs and have more questions asked then I would of definitely broke into tears. I want to say that the most hilarious part of this all is that before I left my dorm room, I thought let me leave my pepper spray so I will not get stopped by the airport... Ha ha ha... Just do not give me weapons, I beg you. I only accepted to take the knife so that my parents knew I would be safe on my own. Perhaps this is my sign that I need to learn another way of defending myself without having to carry items that can hurt someone, even myself. In my head I was also trying to place myself in the officer's shoes and all that came across to me is that even the little ones you have to look out for. 

How was your first experience traveling alone?

xx Chavelita

High Standards: Bad or Good?

For as long as I can remember I have had high standards. I would always pick the boxes with the neatest packaging at the grocery store. Pay the extra dollar for a water bottle than to use a local water fountain. Buy clothes by the brand at times because I am familiar with the quality of the clothes and for the fact that the clothes fit my petite body that has always been a struggle of mine growing up. Though these standards mentioned are just to the material items, when these standards apply to people the real difficulty begins to peer out to the open. I have learned to stop being picky with the types of food I have been given but I find to be extremely picky with the people I have encountered over the years. Throughout time I have dropped so many friends for the simple fact that they no longer fit in my life. They no longer became effortless to talk to and with the constant feeling that I was being judged or becoming an interruption, the sensation was not worth the time. For the low tolerance I have for the negativity and drama that comes out of the mouths of others if I wanted to hear that I might as well turn on the television. Drama that half of the time I did not recognize the names of the people involved and needed someone else to explain the whole situation. I was not built for gossip and jokingly stating that I live under a rock, I honestly do live under a rock.

Coming back to having high standards, separation from most people has greatly affected me. To have a handful of individuals I am comfortable to speak my mind with and completely know that I can take them into account, does not leave a lot of room for new people to come into my life. But this is not a reason for why I do not want to meet new people, in fact I do want to meet new people but I just take so long to trust in people that by the time I feel ready they are no longer there. I am constantly missing my window of opportunity and I have been beating myself up because of that. I have been on dates, I have not been entirely unknown to what it is to meet a guy and share a few words with but then I have this gut feeling. The feeling that he is not the one so I slowly back out until the point where I find myself avoiding and or not talking to him. When I imagine a relationship, I imagine someone who is there to stay not someone that can simply have a great time and be dumped the next week or so because they got bored of me. I will be honest, I am high maintenance because of my emotions and how sensitive I am that may cause people to not tolerate me but because of my strong bond to those emotions I find that to be one of my greatest strengths and one of my greatest downfalls. For the way my emotions move me, I can provide so much love and support but this also depends if he is able to handle the amount.

The other day I was with a pair of friends heading to a pizza place for lunch and somehow the conversation of what the ideal guy came up. I remember I stated that I had weird taste in men and I already knew that I was going to be asked to elaborate as to what I meant as weird. My weird taste of men consists of someone who has a passion for all the things they hold valuable to whether it is to serve the country or be deeply wrapped into the major of their choice, have a great sense of humor but is able to tell where the boundaries are, supportive and pushes me to do my best, and sensitive that he is not afraid to tell me what is on his mind regardless of what masculine social norms have to say. He does not have to look like a Ken Barbie doll but I do want him to be able to completely trust in me as I would completely trust in him. I want him to be successful, he does not have to be successful when I meet him but I would want him to get there. I know that I do have a lot to offer, I know how much baggage I am carrying even if I do not show it, I know how extremely private I can be to those who do not know me, but I do not need someone to complete me. I simply want someone to join me on this journey of life so I have someone to share memories and moments with.

Do you think having high standards is a bad or good thing to have?

xx Chavelita