Not Enough

I’m not Mexican enough.

I don’t speak Spanish.

I don’t eat spicy foods because I can’t tolerate spice that well.

My skin is too pale.

I have very little accent to my voice.

I don’t dance. I don’t sing. I have no rhythm.

I have too much love for Pumpkin Spice. And Trader Joe’s Baas

I’m not Mexican enough.

 

I’m not White enough.

I have a Hispanic accent, slight that it may be.

My skin is too tan.

I don’t really burn in the sun.

My eyes are not blue or green or brown.

I do eat food with a kick to it often.

I love food with flavor.

I’m curvaceous. Exceptionally so.

I’m not White enough.

 

These are things that people have told me. These are things family has told me.  I had a guest at my work screaming at how if I was Hispanic, I would understand family tradition. I had another get in my face and yell that if I was White, they’d treat me with more respect.

I am both. I am proud to be both. It took me so long to get to a point where I was okay being both. Because I use to hate the fact that I am Mixed race. I used to hate that I was never fully able to belong in either.

I don’t need to belong to one or another. I’m okay being White. I’m okay being Hispanic. I am enough.

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I’ve been in my new home for a little over a week. I’m mostly moved in – just the odd bits and ends left to gather and bring over from the old place.

I’m simultaneously happier and stressed out like I haven’t been.

I needed this move. For so many reasons, I needed this move. The immediate effects of the move are so obvious it is rather painful.

I don’t wake up panicking anymore.

I don’t feel like there is a weight pressing down on my chest every day.

I don’t feel like the notion of going home twisting my insides like jagged knives burrowing into me.

I don’t feel like I am worthless first and last thing while I’m awake.

Not to say it’s perfect. I am worried about things like making sure I eat every day, and that I’ll have what’s needed at the end of the month.  There’s still stress. There’s even still stress from the old place. My grandmother still needs to be taken care of. I still have a responsibility there.

And I have a job now. Which makes my time to do so more limited.

Things are better, but they are also not. But, I suppose that is how life goes.

Operation Secret Project

It’s a go. It’s happening. And since a lot of people know about it (read, everyone in my personal life knows). It doesn’t need to be a *secret* project.

I’m moving out of my parent’s home next Thursday. I’m going to be living with a roommate, but on my own for truthfully the first time in my life. And I am terrified. I am absolutely terrified. But it’s happening. It’s something I’m doing. It’s some sort of growth I’ve not allowed myself to have until now.

Dear gods help.

I don’t know what it is going to entail. I don’t know if I am going to be successful caring for myself or if I am going to fall flat on my face and fail. Time will tell. It’s the only thing that can.

Word Vomit

I’ve spent the past week cat sitting at one of my friend’s place. The cats are adorable, and one lets me rub its belly.  And the other is mistrustful of me, doesn’t let me touch her, and tries, in general, to not be too close to me.

I feel like the second cat.

Last week I discovered that there were a few people in my life that I held relatively close were, in their own ways, using me, lying to me, or otherwise abusing me in some way. And it hurts. Dear gods did figuring this out hurt.  And it’s left me very unsure of the vast majority of people in my life on who is okay to trust and open with, and who is not. Some are people who are okay with me making massive amounts of effort to be there for them, but when it comes to me needing someone. Something always comes up. Something always prevents them from being there for me even part of the way they expected me to be there for them.

Except for the core group of friends I have. They have made me feel so loved, so cared about, and shown time and time again that I will never be able to not know they will be there. And if I am in a situation where I need help. They’ll do it. Without hesitation, without expectations. I’ve been friends with the majority of them for eleven years now. And this is still new to me. It’s still something I am so unsure and terrified of losing.

And I think it’s because of the people I’ve let in that are like the ones this bit of rambling began with. I don’t know the point of this post. Other than. Some people suck. Some people really suck and I need to learn to stop letting them in. And to stop caring about them. And focus on the fact that I have some of the best people in my life.

And… and that’s it I guess.

Hopefully the next time I sit to write publically, I will be in better spirits.

The Annual Bash

For the past seven years, there has been the Bash.

The Bash takes place over President’s Day weekend, Saturday through Monday. There is a theme set. Food is decided. A movie is picked. And the party commences.

The first Bash I remember was the Ulitmate Zelda Bash. We played and beat through as many of the Zelda games as we could, watched the old television show, and feasted on Deku Scrub Balls, Octorok Balls, and Kokiri Salad. It was an amazing time.

This year, the theme was Spooky Horror. The main game was Silent Hill 2. It was beaten Sunday. Other games played included Pony Island, Betrayal of the House on the Hill, Resident Evil 7,  Left 4 Dead 2, and You Don’t Know Jack murder something or another. The movies watched were Hellraiser and Hellraiser 2. The food was in no way themed, but for the first time since I started cooking for the bash, there was more than enough food to feed everyone for two days and still have some left over.

The best thing about the Bash is how many of my friends come together for this event. It’s something we know we can count on happening, and people will make plans and take days off to be there. It’s a chance to see friends that we normally won’t see for the rest of the year. And it has the added bonus of it being a sleep over. Which, as an adult feels way more fun than it ever did growing up. The memories that get created there last for the years to come. We still talk about events from bashes of years past. We’ll probably talk about events from this bash.

I strangely really enjoyed when we broke off the theme and started playing Smash Brothers and Artemis. I discovered that I really enjoying being a Captain. I think I am terrible at leadership roles, and yet I find myself in them and enjoying myself in them more often than not. It’s something for me to ponder more.

Now to move on to more planning for secret mission, and have hopes for the next year.

Cheers!

February Blues

When I started writing this entry, I was sitting at Tortilla Joe’s restaurant in the Downtown Disney District, taking myself on a much needed me date. This year is going by so fast. It’s kind of unbelievable. A lot has happened. To start, I have a temporary job. I am a data entry technician working from an office in Gardena, which is nowhere near where I live and entirely too close to Disneyland. Which is why I wound up stopping there to avoid some of the traffic nightmares on my way home.  I’m still going on interviews for other positions. I have one tomorrow, in fact. This year feels like a good year for getting interviews compared to previous years. In fact, I’ve already gone on more interviews in the past month and a half than I did the first half of last year. With any luck, one of these will stick to a job that will last longer than one month.

But I’m not going sit and spew that all has been nothing but hope and searching and trying to get employment. I’ve felt so lost this year. I am trying to find the path that my life is supposed to go on, but I can’t remember when or where I got off the path. I know it’s happened, the current state of my life is a huge indicator that Hey! Somewhere where you got off track. I’ve been taking these huge and tiny steps towards getting to a place where I think that I will be better. Where I won’t feel my anxiety creep up my spine and choke me.  Operation Secret project is a huge portion of that. It is, without any hesitation or doubt, the biggest thing that can be done to get myself aimed at a better place.

I took one of the hardest steps towards that operation. I told my dad about it. He wasn’t exactly what could be called supportive. He told my mother, who in turn responded in a manner that was beyond unsupportive. Which, is confusing. The thing I’m trying to make sure happens. It’s something that should happen. It’s something that should have happened a long time ago. I don’t understand why my parents seem to be trying to sabotage or bribe me to prevent this from happening. But it’s going to. Sometime soon (next month hopefully) I’ll be able to talk about it more. With better news.

Laller is getting progressively worse. Most days, she won’t really get out of her bed unless I carry her out and set her in the living room to socialize. I worry that the doctors and nurses were wrong when they said that she should have another five years in her. I don’t see how anymore. It’s terrifying and heartbreaking seeing how much she has regressed. I can’t take care of her anymore. I can’t handle the pressure or the responsibility and still manage to take care of myself. I’ve tried to do so, but it gets harder and harder to care for a woman who goes dead weight when I try to pick her up to feed her, or punches me repeatedly when I have to give her a shower, or bites when I need to move her to change the sheets that she’s soiled again. I found a home that could take her and do so much better for her than I am able to provide, but there is resistance from others to putting her in it. Which, I understand too. Laller was very vocal about not wanting to be in a living assistance home. But no one saw how badly the Alzheimer’s would affect her coming. We didn’t predict that within the span of a year, she’d go from someone who could take care of herself (feeding, bathing, cleaning, using the toilet) to someone who on some days just refuses to leave bed for any reason. It’s heartbreaking.

School starts next week. I have a few courses and a couple that is not in my normal major. But something that will hopefully help me get a job in the business field while I continue pursuing the education field goal. I know I what I want to do in life, I just also know that I can’t afford to sit and keep trying and only doing that one thing. I need to do more.

There things to look forward to. I have the Bash this weekend, my friends are wonderful, Opereation Secret Project is still going, despite opposition. And there will be more lovely rain soon. Gosh, that rain was needed.

There are things I have to keep holding on to hope for. There are reasons for me to be happy. I just need to keep reminding myself of that.

An update, of sorts

I got hit by five birds earlier today. At least, my car did. It’s okay. I’m okay. Most of the birds are okay (as in they flew away – one, however, didn’t make it).  But I’ll be damned if I don’t live an interesting life.

It’s something my friends have commented on several times. A couple friends have encouraged me to take the experiences I have and fuel them into some sort of stand up sketch routine. I could do that, I suppose. But the combination of anxiety and not wanting to get permission from all the people I share these experiences with permission to use them beyond a laugh or venting among friends prevent me from seriously considering. And mostly, it’s the anxiety of it all.

There is more than one reason I decided against pursuing a career in acting.

I don’t know how to feel about this year, so far. There’s been good things and bad, which is really how life usually goes. I had my first interview for a teaching position, which just amazes me beyond all belief. I feel it went well, too. Which amazes me more.

Los Angeles has had so much rain since the start of the year. There’s been an actual winter – including hail which is damn near unheard of in LA. I mean, it happens. But so rarely. And it’s fantastic. I haven’t seen the city this green since I was a little kid. Driving in the rain is a pain, though.

Operation secret mission is going well too. Within a couple months, I hope to be able to talk about it more freely. I just need to get more in order for it. One of the bigger things is taken care of, though. Which is exciting.

I guess. There is a lot of excitement happening. Amidst fighting what feels like another spike of depression. Things will be better. This year is going to be better.

I just got to have hope.