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.


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.

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.


At the beginning of the year, I made out a list of goals I intended on completing. They were simple, for the most part. And I did okay on them, for the first time really ever.

They were as follows:

  • Take a selfie every day, and post it on instagram with the hashtag #selfieoftheday.

This was to help me feel better about the way I look, and build some confidence. And I did this pretty consistently all year. There was a period of time when I didn’t have a camera, and a few days I just couldn’t bring myself to look at me in a mirror, let alone a camera.

  • Write daily.

Utterly and completely failed at this one. I did write more, to a point of I have started a new story I’m muddling my way through. But daily. Yeah.. That did not happen.

  • Walk for twenty minutes every day.

Sort of? The past couple months I could barely breathe some days, so I didn’t do much of the walking thing. But every day I could I walked around the block twice.

  • Read one hundred books.

I read eighty-seven. That’s not bad. That is also not including the books that I reread more than once this year. If I add all the rereads, it’s over a hundred.

  • Get driver’s license.

Nope, but I am totally ready to take the permit test next year. Which, is better than nothing.


It’s not bad – especially considering that I was in school, and I spent a good few months really sick. I did, at least on some level and within reason, complete the majority of the goals I set for myself this past year.

And looking back on 2015? There is a lot I would do differently. I wouldn’t waste my time on the people who didn’t really deserve my time or energy. I’d say yes to more of the things I was too scared to say yes to, and say no to the things that kept me back. I’d get back on the ice, and relearn how to skate. See more shows. Spend more time with my friends. But most importantly – I’d spend way more time on me. If I take away anything from this year – I need better self care methods.

So looking forward, I want to do more of the things.

My goals for 2016 are:

  • Write at least three pages of something a week.
  • Graduate from Pasadena City College.
  • Do a once-a-month self-date thing.
  • Go to University. (C’mon CSU Northridge you know you want this spaz)
  • Actually get my license.
  •  Read 50 new books.
  • Take one workout class.
  • Take a selfie everyday, but only post the ones that actually make me feel good about myself, instead of posting the ones that make me feel awful about myself.
  • Keep applying to jobs. Maybe actually get one. Maybe. (Someone please hire me.)
  • See friends at least twice a month outside of school.
  • Follow your gut instinct when it comes to the people you interact with.