TFW You Want to Write…

I have this horrible habit of thinking I can remember something without writing it down. The times I do write it down and come across the note in the future, I have no idea what I meant or what I wanted to remember out of it. Maybe I need a class on remembering things (writes remember things online class).

The following is a series of short paragraphs on topics/people/general ideas I want to write about in the near future and I hope that by being a little more detailed I will be able to fully develop a post out of each of them.

MTBF visits me: post a couple of pictures to share the adventures. The excitement leading up the arrival. I wish we did everything we said we’d do. Why didn’t we do everything we said we’d do? Time? Laziness? Money? I found out how to use VENMO. I just don’t understand why if the app is by PayPal, why did I have to create a new account with VENMO and not have the option to sign in through PayPal?

I really want to start my podcast: more an more the Honey Cakes and I are talking about starting a podcast. I want to associate myself with the boom in brown podcasts that is going on right now and take advantage of the fact that there is so much love and support for brown entrepreneurship. He, on the other hand, wants to just “have a podcast” with a theme on “Stories”. I get it, but in that type of podcast I don’t see room for me. He’s a talker and knows a little bit of everything. He can carry a great conversation and I stall all the freakin’ time! He’s a natural conversationalist and I overthink everything way too much that I end up looking like Homer fading into the bushes. And I want us to be on the same podcast, share with listeners our experiences and then have themed episodes like his “stories” and have guests that share and talk about anything and everything.

Can I start a business?: I think the last 50 accounts I started following on IG have been Latinx businesses. Small and awesome shops that range from mugs to pins, t-shirts and hats, stickers and art. Sometimes I even want to invest in a business because what if I don’t have what it takes? I bought a pin making machine but I ran out of steam. Maybe it wasn’t steam, but I just didn’t have the right equipment and I (still) think.. soon I’ll get the right printer, paper, cutter, etc. I have ideas but I also need to learn how to market. WAH! Oh an I thought, what if I learn to sew and make tortilla covers with dope ass dichos. First step with that is to know if I even have the patience to make one.

Been staring at the cursor for 30 seconds and nothing. I guess I didn’t have a lot to remember. Or maybe I just forgot because I didn’t write it down.

#storyofmylife

I’m Almost A Full Adult

The government places the legal adult age of 18. I mean, is that even legal? My apologies for that joke. Pos ya que? I started working at the tender age of 17 doing seasonal gigs. I worked at Six Flags in California, at Things Remembered in Northridge Mall, at a Deli in La Gigante (best coworker ladies), as a TA for second graders, at the Student Store while I was in college, and as a cashier at Home Depot. May 29, 2017 marked my 10 year anniversary at my current gig. I never thought I would be able to commit for this long.

For a long time I thought of myself as being independent but in reality I was only semi-independent. Even though I had a job and was buying my own shit I was never really living off of my own income. When I realized that in my early 20s I felt like I was failing. I don’t know what I was thinking. I had my mom’s help, my sister’s help, my friend’s help. I mean we were all splitting costs at one point or another. I don’t know why I thought that wasn’t enough. What I’m trying to say is that I placed a lot of weight on being one and only. Looking back at it I wish I valued the sharing of goods, space, and those relationships a lot more. But I was young. I wanted the “American” life.

I’ve come to a point in my life where I know independence is good, but damn does it feel better when you have someone to share your wealth. I don’t mean monetary wealth. I’m talking about bonding and spending time and learning and living together. I don’t know why I wanted out of such living arrangements. There is so much we can learn from each other when we’re living together. It can be extended family, a home of friends, multiple family home, etc., but it’s valuable. My Chico Fresco and I talk about this often. And I admit that I used to feel the same way about older children still living with their parents. Grown folks still in a room in their Mami and Papi’s house. Pero, why? What’s that saying that goes something like you get bothered by the people and things that scare you of yourself? of things within yourself? I can’t remember but I hope you catch my drift.

When I moved to Oregon I did it on my own. I took a little bit of money from my retirement, had it offset by a little sign-on bonus and off I went living the life I wanted. I loved being on my own. I can arrange my things how I want, get home and no one to tell me anything, eat what I want, where I want – all those things that a parent told you not to do. The thing is that I can be alone. I don’t feel alone, but I can manage myself. I miss family and BBQs and get-togethers and outings but I also enjoy being in a place friends and family can get away to. My main squeeze moved up here a year ago and it’s been a rollercoaster. I’ve had to readjust some of my ways and accept that my space is now our space. And that’s part of growing up. Like my MTBF says … you can grow old but you don’t have to grow up. For a lot things that makes funny sense, but when it comes to maturity of the mind, and the actions that you take I believe change is warranted because like Epictetus Enchiridion says our ultimate goal is happiness. But how do we achieve happiness? It’s all about controlling how you react to things around you. Who said “be the change you wish to see”? Something like that…

My mentor has taught me so much. The advice and guidance he’s given me has allowed me to view my life through different lenses. I used to want things to happen to me because I guess I grew up kind of spoiled. But at the same time, through his analysis and my own, I realized I was just always afraid. I was filled with so much self-doubt that I never really went for it. He put it to me this way, there are things you can’t control so just let them be (this can be events, people, situations). Then there are things in which you have some control (how you react, what you choose to be involved in, what you can walk away from, what you pursue, etc.). And then there are things that you have full control over (yourself). I wrote about this some time ago when I read the book he recommended about the Stoics. But think about that. Think of the things you have some control over and what you have full control over. This way of thinking has changed my life for the better and for that I’m indebted to him. To some this way of thinking can be obvious, but for me a person that is afraid of stepping in and standing out advice like that is invaluable.

I’m pursing my happiness. It’s not through material things but at the same time material things shape us in a way that sometimes we don’t want them to, but accept. For instance, I just got approved for a home loan (like WHOA… that is so adult, hence the title of my post). The reason I’m getting my home is because I want something that my money pays for that is mine. Not someone else’s home, but mine. I want to be able to leave something for my kid(s) if I ever choose to have any. I want to be able to pay that bitch off and relax when I retire. I want to be able to paint this room blue and that one egg yolk yellow. You feel me?

My point to all of this is, take advantage of not having to be one and only to everything. Invite people in and welcome yourself when you’ve been invited. Accept that family and friends are there to help because they love you and at the end of the day.. it’s our culture. You know all those jokes and memes about Mexicans and their large families? Would you give any of that up? I wouldn’t and right now I’m so happy that my family is growing. I’m elated that my first cousins and sisters have or are popping their babies out. The kicker is it’s up to us to keep that connection going and not lose those relationships.

Here’s another point. Don’t feel guilty when you step away from all of that. We are all expected to grow. And on that same coin… don’t guilt others for not leaving. Sometimes that’s what works. Just don’t overstep, overstay, or not pay. Pay it forward. No one does it alone.

If You’re Reading This It’s Because I’m A Coward

I’m a lazy friend. Plain and simple.

Friendship is a give and take type of relationship. What I give is what I take. I don’t give much so I don’t expect much. My earliest memory of friendship was back in elementary. It’s a bit fuzzy yet vivid on some days. 

I don’t know how others perceive my outer persona but lately I’ve been fixating on it. I find myself telling Pablo again and again of how I (playfully) hate how easy he makes conversation with strangers. He had a full conversation with the fedex guy (or was it the usps guy?). He even got his name. He got the life story of a dude that is twice his age with no hesitation. There are countless examples. I told him he’s like my mother; there is something about them that just attracts easy conversation. Is it his vibe? Is it his lack of fear of what people think? Perhaps it’s his openness to accepting all that is unknown. Whatever it is about him it is what I love the most. His way of being is everything to me. Note to reader: i apparently have a big ego and I don’t take criticism well. But that doesn’t mean i can’t relate nor that I’m not open to new friends. I’m also not really looking for them but damn I want to be approachable. I also let go very easily so if someone wants some type of validation from me he/she probably, most likely, won’t get it. WELP! 

In elementary I felt like an outcast. Wait, outcast is very defining… I was very normal, but always trying to fit in. Just ask my oldest sister. I dont remember really having friends like friend friends. You know, the type you’re always with and the ones (or one) that you told everything to? It never really happened so I was the girl that would play kickball and pachuco with the boys. I played tetherball and volleyball and handball with the class but I wasn’t part of any alliances happening around me. For the record I was an average athlete but I was competitive. 

In middle school I was the lame ass that ran to the fucken nutrition and lunch lines and after I ate I walked around campus. I finally made a friend but it was shortly lived. She left me, that bitch. She left me to be friends with another girl that was as boy crazy as she was. Then I made another friend and she took me in with her little group. It was nice and fun, but I only really connected with the one that took me in. The thing is that I thought I had friends in many circles… the reality was that I only connected in the classroom. I was funny, I made people laugh and I seemed to have something that pulled people in. I realize now that those relationships only lived in a controlled environment. If it required actual energy I wasn’t readily putting it out there. 

In high school I finally felt a part of something. A smart group of girls that shared common interests took me in. But then I found out I wasn’t part of the rituals of secret sharing or the phone calls girlfriends have or the inside jokes. I tried it but in retrospect I only did it out of desperation. Eventually I started hanging out with a different group. The same thing happened with these girls. The same thing happened with me and them. I let it be. I felt sad about it, but I didn’t put any effort in salvaging or maintaining the friendships. I give them credit for continuing to make an effort to include me in things but it isn’t the same when I was putting my part in the mix.

It wasn’t until after high school that I finally met someone that was/is awesome and a great friend. I now consider myself to be low maintenance and I love that with her I don’t feel guilty. I want to do more and have more but looking at my past experiences it seems I either don’t know how or I’m too lazy of a friend. I like how when we reach out to each other it never feels like too much time passed us by. However, I do want something that surpasses that. I’m writing this out because I want accountability on my part. I want to be able to look back at this post and think of how this used to be me. 

I rest easy now that I know it’s not the number of friends but the quality of the relationships that counts. I have to work on the quality of  my friendship, tho. For really, girlfriend. 

My Hair

Sometimes I laugh along with people that seem to think it’s funny that I do not shave my legs or my underarms. I fell like staring at them and asking WHAT THE FUCK IS THE BIG DEAL?

But I get it. I used to be like them (those inferior beings) that bowed to the standards of beauty that have demonized hair on certain parts of the body. HAHA… I laugh at YOU, you lame-ass.

Nah, I’m just fucking with you. But I have come to love myself on another level. I’m fat right now (that’s another blog for another site), and I assure you it has nothing to do with that.

*queue harp music*

It all started when I moved to Oregon… no really, it did. There are some cold ass winters here that my delicate Southern Cali skin barely survived. The first summer I was all about shaving my legs for no other reason than it was the normal thing to do. Then I thought… hey, the BF is not here and I’m cool roaming my house and the streets in my semi-hairy, very prickly legs. Shave, shave, shave! Shave my legs, shave my pits, trim the hoo-ha, and wax them brows. I was all for hair removal. Then that practice started to slow down for various reasons, none of which included laziness.

After some time I started to not mind my hairy legs. And then I stopped shaving my armpits. I fucken ran a half marathon in my hairy legs (which maybe that was part of the reason I had a slower time this year… hmmm… should have worn running pants). Because all of this is fairly new I sometimes sit and stare at my legs and touch my hairy pits like… who said this was gross? How come hairy legs and pits are not shamed on men? Why do women or people that want to shave in general, that see it as a chore continue to do it? Okay, okay. The  “I don’t shave for you I shave because I want to” type people can shut up. I was one of you. Then I started looking deeper into this practice and realized I was doing it because I didn’t want people to tell me I was hairy. Fuck those people. I’m having as good a time as you and I don’t have to worry about the last time I shaved.

Laugh it up. Continue to think it’s nasty and gross. You’re GROSS! You shave and tap that razor on your bathtub rim and stare at the nasty blob of hair. Continue to shame yourself every other day and remove that hair from your pits. HAHAHHA… okay, that was rough. I’m fucking with you, again. All I ask is that you leave people, such as myself, be… HAIRY! *insert boom sound*

Swarm

This is about my vanity, my egotism, my arrogance and how I have ignored all of it for a long time now; longer than usual. My thoughts are swarming and I have been seeing them come at a distance and now they are all over me. I can’t ignore them anymore.

I hate to make this about appearance but it’s the first thing I see every morning after I walk my fat-ass into the bathroom and the huge mirror reflects my visibly fat ass back at me. It’s not a nice fat ass, it’s a ginormous fat ass that indicates my lack of self-care. I don’t know what’s more important anymore – my mental health or my physical appearance? Maybe they are both equally important and I just can’t do both. Excuses. A swarm of excuses. I wave them off violently because they are a distraction of my state of not giving a fuck.

This is my header quote on my Instagram page: It is more necessary to heal the soul than the body, for to die is better than to live a bad life. – Epictetus Enchiridion

Then why am I being swarmed by these thoughts and emotions? Is it because I don’t feel I’m living a good life that I am focused on how I’m not healing my body? And because I’m focused on how I’m not healing body that I am feeling defeated and gross about how I look? What comes first? What should come first?

Goal: happiness

via Daily Prompt: Swarm

The Ultimate Mexican Party

Identity as defined by the Oxford dictionary is: the fact of being who or what a person or thing is.

This post is brought to you by inspiration born from listening to episode 23: Chamoy Fountain of Larinos Who Lunch, by the way. Continue…

Note to future self: at the wedding have a Chamoy fountain. No me importa lo que diga la gente. 

Every so often my bad hombre and I talk about having the party of the century here in Oregon. I know for sure I want a Banda so if you know of any traveling bandas for hire let me know. Drop me a line in the comments. We’re going to serve carnitas, birria and tacos with all the fixings. And for the morning after we’re going to have menudo because we know that party is going to be fire. FIERRO! 

Most of the conversation you can imagine us speaking as if we’re already there, as if we just lived that experience yesterday. We’re full of nostalgia for what we don’t have anymore, or at least for what we don’t live day in and day out. I miss that. He misses that. The last time we both visited home we didn’t spend one cent on food. Every family we visited fed us. Estábamos como marranos.  

I’ve told a couple of coworkers about the ultimate Mexican party and I’m excited they’re excited. I work with a white majority and I’ve made a couple of great relationships. Mi hombre has made some ok connections and we both like to say we’re inviting every white person we know.They’re going to have front row seats to the mariachi and the Banda that’s gonna play until 3am.  

Ideally this party is in July (22nd because it’s my birthday) and on this year because I’ll be turning 30! Treintona y con picardia. This party will make America greater! 

Nothing New Here. Move Along.

Not sure how I got to this point. If I think about it hard enough maybe I can figure it out. Actually, if I’m honest enough with myself maybe I can write it out.

I thought I was making progress. My mind and thoughts made me believe I was. I was under the impression that I was well on my way to becoming a true Stoic. Today, and maybe the last couple of weeks, have proven otherwise. The actions I have taken, the choices I have made, the advice I have ignored, and the determination to be in control at all times have brought me to failure. I am in a state in which I thought I would never be again.

My state of mind right now is one in disarray. I cannot even begin to start fresh. I am who I was a year ago again. Stubborn with my own self, negligent in how my actions affect those around me. But not really. You want to know why? Because I am fully aware of how this is playing out. I am in too deep into this fuckery of mind that I cannot back away. I thought maybe a day off would ease my mind and maybe this off day would be filled with spontaneity, but alas, I ruined it. I cannot take a fucken joke to save my life, but I will adamantly tell you different. I cannot compartmentalize moments because… I don’t know… I just can’t. Is it ego? Is it just being stupid and stubborn? Can I be fixed?

Just now, I ruined it. Here he comes trying to start a new conversation. And what do I do? I don’t even look his way to fully acknowledge his attempt at conversation. I stay seated at the edge of my bed with my laptop on and typing this stupid blog. What will this get me? Maybe I’m hoping for a true moment of clarity as I write it out  – even as it’s happening. I pause between my last sentence and this one to wipe away these tears of frustration and angst. Angst? Am I using that word correctly? Who gives a fuck?

In some hurried attempt for clarity of mind I uninstalled my social media accounts earlier today. What does that even mean? I’m thinking that perhaps all that time refreshing my feeds and mindless navigation of accounts that don’t mean shit or ones that don’t add any value to myself will allow me the time to reflect on myself – on my mental health.

Right now everything is my fault. Hablando se entienden. Pero, I can’t even talk right now. And if I do I feel like a complete idiot because I didn’t want to [talk] earlier. How does that make any sense? You know that saying… takes one to know one? I feel that way about myself sometimes. Like I’m mad, right? or pissed off (for whatever reason) and I blow him off. Then, 10 minutes later here I come with some dumb ass looking face trying to salvage a moment. Then I do it again an hour later… and I think … if someone did that to me I would be all fucken petty about it. I would think… this dumbass… what does she want now? She knows she’s wrong and now she wants my time? So I play this scenario in my head the next time I’m being dumb and I go insane in my own head. I’m acting foolish, I know that,  so I don’t bother making the attempt to save anything because I “know” what he’s thinking. But I am continuously wrong. How? How, Sway?

My antics will get old and I don’t know where to draw my own line. So I sit here, writing it all out in hopes that maybe I can at least save myself from my own bullshit.

Nothing new, though. I’m not the firsst and I will not be the last.