Boys and Girls, I Think I’ve Gone Cray

“Drown inside my vices all day.”

I was going to use the chorus to this song for the title of my post, since it’s basically the title song of post-election, but I decided to be kind of hipster, LOL.

I would say that this is going to be my last election post, but it probably won’t be, so why lie?

Although this post will be similar to my previous post, it’s more so something to clear things up, for you and my conscience.  I posted that piece on Wednesday, the afternoon that the results of the election were announced, after Hillary Clinton’s concession speech and President Obama’s speech.  I was heartbroken, scared, and hurting when I wrote that post, and it translated.  I look back at it, and I regret it: my emotions got the best me.  I always feel like the best arguments are the ones that a person is clearly passionate about said argument, but can tame their emotions enough to get a coherent and clear thought out.

My previous post was nothing like that: it was full of emotion, and although I stand by the things that I said, I know that there are some stuff that I should have reworded and clarified.  So, that is the purpose of this post.  If you’re tired of reading stuff about the election, feel free to leave.  I understand your frustration, but this election is pretty groundbreaking, so I will continue.

First point, and the most important: I DO NOT HATE WHITE PEOPLE.  I don’t hate anyone, really, because it takes a lot of energy to hate people, and life is too short to hate.  I’m more of a person that strongly dislikes people.  🙂  That’s besides the point though, what I am trying to say is that I try my hardest not to judge people on the basis of their race and skin tone, and I’ve been pretty successful at it for, like, ever.  Haha.  I do make jokes concerning race based on extreme stereotypes though, that is my one flaw.  I’m trying to work on it.  But, I don’t hate white people.  However, the majority of the people who backed Trump were white people (majority, not all), and with the condescending and offensive things he has said, it makes it hard for me to accept Trump supporters, no matter what color they are.

The second thing I want to say, is that I realize that neither candidate is perfect.  I was going through this huge battle with my heart and my head when I was casting my vote.  My heart was telling me to vote third party, which essentially wouldn’t have mattered because I live in CA and the state was going blue no matter what, but my head was telling me not to chance that, especially considering the possibility of a Trump presidency was imminent, and I wanted to make sure I stopped him.

It hurt my heart so, so, so much that I voted for Clinton.  She supports and has done SO many terrible things that I don’t support.  Especially when she stood by her husband and silenced the women that came forward and accused him of rape and sexual assault.  It seriously hurt me when I cast my vote for her, and I repent for what I did.  In a weird and very minuscule way, I’m kind of glad she didn’t win.  Clears my conscience a little.  But, I’m still really, really, really, upset that Trump won.

And the thing is, is that I hear a lot of people who voted for Clinton say similar things as I said.  That they voted for Clinton, but hated the fact that they did vote for her.  They believed that she was the better of two evils, as did I.  However, I don’t hear Trump supporters say anything along these lines.  Maybe because my closest exposure to Trump supporters is my Facebook feed, as well as the fact that it is hard to find news from either side from unbiased news outlets.  Typically, no matter what the outcome, you support your President-elect, but in this case, it is really hard for me to see why anyone would support Trump.

I can see why people voted for him.  His platform was enticing for a lot of people: he championed for poor and working class Americans, who have become seriously forgotten in the political world.  He spoke against the TPP and vowed to stop outsourcing jobs to other countries.  He pushed to “build the wall” between Mexico and the US and stop illegal immigration into the United States.  He also vowed to kill ISIS, and no one wants to be terrorized by ISIS again.

But Trump has said some incredibly ignorant and offensive things throughout the campaign.  He has disrespected women, people of color, Muslims, Mexicans, immigrants, and the LGBTQIA community.  He has cheated the federal tax system for years (people who call him saavy, ugh, please stop) and hasn’t supported the troops and education system and other programs that our federal taxes pay for.  He also has some serious mental health issues and psychopathic tendencies, and this person is going to be the leader of the free world.

Don’t even get me started on Mike Pence.  He is a true bigot, and has a crap ton more experience that Donald Trump in politics.  His political savviness, coupled with Trump’s lack of experience, means that he is most likely going to have a huge say in the Trump administration. He’s already taken on a larger role in the transition, and it probably won’t stop there.  Can we say Frank Underwood in House of Cards, much?  LOLOLOL, I friggen love that show.

But it hurts me that through all the negative things have been said by Trump about already marginalized groups, people support him to the ends of the Earth.  I understand that people are tired of being unrecognized by the elites in Washington, and Trump is someone that might be able to break the cycle.  But, Trump is also an elite himself, so I don’t know how he could be much different aside from the fact that he has ZERO experience in government or has not served our country.  But, when his supporters defend everything he has said, saying that he’s not racist, homophobic, or everything else, that is not being supportive, that is being ignorant.  And maybe you think of yourself as not racist, misogynistic, xenophobic, Islamophobic, or homophobic, but by supporting Trump, you’re saying that you don’t care about any of these groups.  Maybe if the supporters say something along the lines that they only supported his policies, maybe I will forgive their vote.  But even then, I’m not fully convinced about it.  I’ll just have to see if and when it ever happens.

Working class white Americans, I hear, understand, agree with your concerns.  Too many American jobs are being shipped out to other countries, and they should stay here.  There are so many Americans out there that have been stripped of their jobs and deserve to have them back.  But, America was only great for you back then because you had jobs.  That same America that you miss so much was a pretty shitty America for people of color and other marginalized groups.  We need to be able to find a balance for all people of the United States.

To say that I hope Trump doesn’t succeed is an ignorant thing for me to say.  I don’t want this country to go to shit, so I hope that he is able to do good things.  But if he resorts to any type of bigotry against marginalized groups, I will be along side the people to protest it.  Washington hasn’t been working for a while, so maybe Trump is what we need to break Washington and create the change that we want to see.  The election of Trump has brought together so many people who strive for social justice and equality for all people.  I hope that through this sad time, we are able to rise above the bigotry and hatred, and fight for what is right.

I’m sorry for all the hate filled things I said in my last post, and hope this clear things up.

This Ain’t Gonna Stop

“So we just gonna continue.”

I am about to feed into the clusterfuck of articles that are about the United States’ 2016 Election Day, but I feel strongly about this, so here it goes.

Today, November 8th, 2016, is Election Day, which signals the hopeful end of this shit-show that we here in the US call the 2016 Presidential Election.  As entertaining as the comedy that has come out of this election has been, I am more than extremely excited for this state of insanity to come to an end.  In my short 22 years of life, I don’t remember seeing an election that has aggravated me so much.  Obviously, none of the candidates are ideal (yes, I am including 3rd party candidates), but all the empty back and forth rhetoric coming from all sides the spectrum has been absolutely grinding, and I, for one, am ecstatic that today marks the end (until inauguration in January, of course).  This election marks a slew of candidates that are far less ideal than any of the other Presidential candidates that have ran in my lifetime, but I cannot stress enough one thing:

IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER.

Voting is a privilege, no matter how many people tell you that it’s a right.  No one in this country has the RIGHT to vote.  This RIGHT can be taken away so quickly that you don’t even recognize it’s gone.  The people out there that can vote have the PRIVILEGE to vote.  I am a citizen of the US by birth, and have been law abiding enough that today, I can vote in my second Presidential election.  Today, I have the PRIVILEGE to vote for the next leader of the free world.

There are millions of people in this country that would do anything to have their voices heard, do anything to be in the position that I am in, but aren’t for one reason or another.  Many immigrants, documented or undocumented, are unable to vote because they are not naturalized citizens of this country.  It costs “buku” (thanks, Andre 3000)  dollars to become a citizen of this country, and many people don’t even have green card money to shell out to the government, let alone citizenship money.  Undocumented immigration has been a huge issue in this election, and these immigrants OF ALL ORIGINS (not just Mexican) can’t even have their voices heard because of the unfortunate situation they are in.

Today, I vote for them.

There are another couple million people, disproportionately black men, that have been labeled as felons, and have lost their right to vote.  Whether this label has been put on them rightfully or wrongfully, many of these people have been come voiceless, in more ways than one.  Many of these people will never have the chance to vote again.

Today, I vote for them.

It is incredibly easy for me to lose my right to vote, and I realize and recognize this fact.  I am tired of people saying, “Oh, I’m not going to vote in this election because none of the candidates are good.”  Realize what you are saying: “I am not going to vote.”  YOU have the privilege that others would “kill” (for lack of a better term) for.  DO NOT THROW AWAY THAT PRIVILEGE.  RECOGNIZE THAT PRIVILEGE AND USE IT.

I am human, I realize that none of these candidates are the best.  Yes, it hurt me to even bubble in my choice for President, because in my heart, I do not fully believe in the candidate that I voted for.  But, in life, we have to do things we don’t like, and today, I had to partake in doing something I don’t normally do, putting my belief in someone that I don’t fully agree with.

Also, there is more than a Presidential election going on today.  Today, you also have the chance to vote for your state and local officials.  At the end of the day, the results of the Presidential election will not affect you as much as the results of these respective elections.  It is important to vote for the state and local officials of your choice, as it is important for you to vote for your state and local Propositions.  These people and propositions are going to affect you far more than the President ever will in your lifetime, guarantee it.

At this point, I don’t even care who you vote for.  Because it’s not my business who you believe in or not.  All I care about is that you practice your privilege to vote.  Because there are millions of people in this country, and BILLIONS of people in other countries that do not have the privilege to be part of this democratic system, even if it does have some major flaws.

So please, if you are a US citizen, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, go exercise your privilege to vote.

It’s Hell On Earth and the City’s On Fire

Inhale, inhale, there’s Heaven.

I realize my posting hasn’t been very regular.  Aside from the fact that I’m sitting here, two months post-grad, and still unemployed, I feel like I haven’t had anything to post. Life has been pretty boring, and I’ve been struggling to figure out what the fuck I want to do.  I’m stuck at a crossroads: I want to be working again, but am scared that I won’t be able to get the time around Christmas off.  With my parents living in Colorado, and plans already made for my family from both coasts to go there, I don’t want to be the only out of the family shenanigans, especially since this would be the first Christmas that we would be all together since Christmas 2009.

I’ve stopped applying for jobs, knowing that I still should be filling out applications.  But all the people I’ve spoken to have said that most places stop hiring between the end of summer and the start of the new year, so I’m basically shit out of luck until January.  My luck that I graduated in August.

As long as all the paperwork goes through, I will be starting at UCSF as an unpaid volunteer intern for a clinical research project.  This is definitely something that I am excited to start, especially since I haven’t really done anything since graduation.  It kind of sucks that it’s unpaid, but hey, experience is experience, and I’m excited to start something that I’ve never done.  Hopefully it goes well.

I’ve also been reading a lot more.  When I was in elementary and middle school, I used to read a whole bunch.  But, through high school and the majority of college, the amount of reading that I did for pleasure plummeted dramatically.  I struggled to enjoy most of the books that I read during that period, mostly because we would analyze them to the bone. There were a couple that I did enjoy, as a matter of fact I read The Great Gatsby in 10th grade, and to this day it is one of my favorite books.  I’ve read for pleasure here and there in college, but didn’t really start again until my junior year.  My reading drive has been up and down since then, but it never fully went away.  This month, I’ve read 6 books so far. I’ll do a reading wrap up later toward the end of the month.

I haven’t really wanted to post because I’ve been afraid that I wouldn’t get the feedback that I want.  But today, I realized through a YouTube video that I watched, that I shouldn’t be posting for other people, I should be posting for myself.  Even if the post is dull, I really and truly enjoy writing these posts.  It’s therapeutic, especially since my mental health hasn’t been the best (it’s definitely not the worst it’s been, but it hasn’t been this bad in a long time).  I need to realize that no matter what the response is on my posts, that I’m doing this for me.  Sure, not all of my posts will be well received by others, but as long as it is true to me and what I’m feeling at that particular moment, then it’s a successful post on my part.

That being said, I want to make a couple end of the year goals.  Let’s not call them resolutions; I never stick to those shits.

1.  Write more.  I don’t necessarily need to go back to posting every day or every other day, but I think at least once a week is a doable thing.
2. Continue to read.  I feel more intelligent when I read, LOL.  Whether or not it’s something that has existential meaning or if it’s some shits and giggles book, the act of reading makes me feel like I’m being productive with my life.
3. Clean!  I’m not an incredibly messy person (thanks Maa), but ever since I entered college, my standards of cleanliness have dropped, thanks to some nasty ass roommates.  But I really cleaned today, and not only is the house less cluttered, but so is my mind.
4. Work on my mental health.  Mental health issues run rampant in my family, and as bad as I think I am, I’m actually on the lighter side of things.  I want to be better so I can effectively help the rest of my family and my friends.

That’s it.  I just want to thank all of my followers for continuing to stick with me despite my erratic posting.  It means the world to me.

Thank you.

No Letting Go

No holding back.

Post grad life sucks.

When I was in school, all I wanted to do was get the fuck out.  Now that I am out, I’m not only struggling to find a job, but I’m struggling mentally as well.  Everyday I wake up wondering whether or not the four years that I spent in undergrad slaving away at the computer and sacrificing a social life for money was worth any of the effort I put in.

I look back now and realize that I didn’t do nearly as much as I should have.  I should have gotten more involved in extracurriculars, I should have gotten involved in research in my major (Biochemistry), I should’ve tried to get internships I should’ve taken a serious look at whether or not I was working toward something I wanted or something that would please my parents.

When I started college, my brother was already four years into his schooling at Georgia Tech, and was in the middle of his dismal decline at the institution.  With the self disappointment of my brother’s impending failure looming in their heads, my parents looking at me as their “perfect” child; the one that was going to bring them a degree with no trouble.  The pressure of this expectation on my shoulders weighed heavily down upon me during my whole undergrad career.  My only focus was going to class and getting good grades.

Only during the second semester of my junior year did I begin volunteering, which I stopped in January of this year because of the overnight shifts I did at the new job that I started.  Even that work stopped in May because I moved out of San Francisco, and commuting from 70 miles away from the city rendered it impossible for me to go to school, study, work, and get a wink of sleep.

But even before that, my motivation began to waver.  My grades began to drop, “C’s get degrees” became my new motto, and I even got a D in my Biochemistry II class (my fucking MAJOR) and had to retake it.  The icing on the cake came when I applied for graduation and recieved the news that I couldn’t graduate in May and had to take a summer class in order to graduate.

And yes, even though I was able to overcome some academic struggles and get my degree, I feel like I can’t go any further.  One month post grad (On the 12th of this month, it’ll be two months), I’ve botched one job interview, gotten countless rejections, and feel like I can’t even go to grad school because I didn’t make any meaningful connections with my teachers, because anxiety and the fear that they will think I’m stupid and asking too much of them.

Before, I would blame outside sources for my failings and utter mediocrity, but I now realize that I have no one to blame but myself.  I was the only one that held myself back, and subsequently, I’ve began the process of disappointing the most important people in my life.

At this point, I am seriously thinking redoing undergrad would be the best option for me.  Maybe going back and being more involved and proactive in my learining would help.  I look at my brother, who despite all the hard times in his first six years at Georgia Tech, has a 3.8 GPA in his new school, is thriving at his internship, and is succeeding in life, and see that maybe a second time around would be a good idea for me.  I look at my sister, a graphic design major, and I see how happy and how involved she is, and I envy her passion.  She is doing something she loves, and the passion radiates from within her.

Prior to starting college, I wanted to go into journalism.  But I was told by my whole family that if I did it, I would be unemployed after graduation (oh, the irony).  So, I did Biochemistry, planning to be a doctor (-_-), and although there were many parts of my education that did interest me, I don’t know if it’s what I want to do with the rest of my life.  I have only one goal in mind: to help people.  Through my volunteering stint, I’ve learned that going into the public health sector may be something that I want to do.  But remember, I have no tangible relationships with professors, so that equates to no recommendation letters= no Master’s program.

So here I am, writing this, watching Sunday Night Football, unemployed, and feeling the lingerings of clinical depression quickly building inside me.  The feeling of unknowingness and despair are getting nearly unbearable, and I am clueless of what to do and how to fix it.

I need a sign.

PS: My computer is broken so I am typing this from my iPad.  If there are any typos, I apologize.

I Wanna Cry Sometimes

I miss you.

15 years.

I was in 2nd grade on September 11,2001.  It was a normal, sunny California day, and I had woke up to the TV blaring downstairs.  My brother and I were supposed to be getting ready to go to school, but for whatever reason, my mom had forgot to wake us up.  I walked over to my brother’s room, shook him hard, and told him to wake up.  It was already 7:30AM, and we had to be in school by 9AM.  After brushing my teeth, I walked downstairs, looked at the scene on the TV, and my jaw dropped in horror.

I saw WTC 1 and 2 crumble down, the Pentagon in flames, and a plane in a field in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania.  As scary as this all seems now, as a young 7 year old, I was confused.

My mom, clearly shaken, was on the phone with her aunt, who lives in The Bronx.  Her aunt constantly reassured her that everyone was alright.  She proceeded to call my aunts in Pennsylvania, who all lived in the Philadelphia area, and she was met with good news from all of them.  While on the phone, my mom informed us that there was no school today and my dad, who left work at 5AM, was on his way home.

My brother and I watched in silence at the TV while my mom was on the phone, waiting for some sort of direction from my mom.  Words and names I heard before, Osama bin Laden, al-Qaeda, terrorist attacks, words that meant little to me before was all I heard on the news now.  My brother, who was in 5th grade, slowly began to explain to me what was going on: members of the terrorist organization al-Qaeda had crashed four planes.  Two went to the World Trade Center, one hit the Pentagon, and one, which was allegedly en route to Washington, DC, was crashed into a field in Pennsylvania.  I remember that I began to cry (I was a huge crybaby anyway back in the day), and asked my brother why anyone would do something like this.  He held me tightly as we both watched the TV screen replay the horrific images.

15 years later, as an adult, I can fully understand the happenings of that day.  15 years later, when I think about it, it still brings immense melancholy upon me.  15 years later, I realize that I was alive for the terrorist attacks of 9/11.

My sister and I recently visited New York in August after my cousin’s wedding, and we both wanted to go to the Freedom Tower.  We had been to Ground Zero when a small memorial was set up, and the construction of the tower hadn’t began.  We later went when construction had began, and now, we wanted to see the tower in it’s entirety, as well as the fully built memorial.

As we approached the memorial, my mood of happiness quickly made a turn for the worse. A tsunami sized wave of sadness crashed upon me, and as we stood at the fountain and read the names of the people whose lives were lost that day, I began to tear up.  My sister and I stood in complete silence for 5 minutes, taking a moment to remember and pay respect to the hundreds of peoples who lost their lives that horrific day.

But many of the people who were there were so happy, taking selfies with their selfie sticks and chatting like nothing happened.  No respect was shown, no reminiscing was done.  It horrified me.  15 years ago, a horrific thing happened in the very spot where we were all standing, and all they were doing was taking selfies in front of a fountain that wasn’t made out of happiness.  I realize that maybe people look at the brighter side of things, but there is no bright side to these attacks.  This memorial site is not a place to be chipper and happy; it’s a place to pay respect and to realize that life is so unexpected.  I expected people to be quiet and paying respect, but instead I got the opposite, and it horrified me.

But looking at the Freedom Tower, it made me hopeful.  It showed me that no matter what we go through, as a country, we can rebuild and persevere, even it times of distress.  The United States is plagued with economic, social, and political problems, but this country is the best country in the world.  My parents came here 20+ years ago to make a better life for their kids, and they did so successfully.  Despite the problems here that need to be changed, I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else but here.  Today, I feel the most united with all the citizens of this country.

Today, I am proud to be an American.

No More Love

We can’t even kick it no more.

If you don’t know what’s been happening in concern with Colin Kaepernick, you’ve obviously been living under a rock.

So for those of you sub-rock dwellers, here’s the jist: Kaepernick, quarterback of the San Francisco 49ers, chose not to stand during the recitation of the National Anthem during their 3rd preseason game in protest of the oppression that Black Americans still face in this country.  In a subsequent practice, he wore socks depicting the cops as pigs, and in the last 49ers preseason game, he kneeled during the National Anthem.

Now, since many of you don’t know my football stances, here is mine on Colin Kaepernick: I don’t like him.  Simple as that.  Not too fond of him as a person, and definitely not fond of him as a player.  He’s overrated and just not that good.

However, it pains me to say, when he sat for the National Anthem, I supported what he did.  It doesn’t pain me as far as the reason is concerned, it pains me that I support a player that I don’t really like.

When this whole shenanigan happened last week, I asked my family what they thought about Kaepernick’s action.  The verdict: none of them supported it.  Main reason: Because it shows disrespect toward this nation and the troops that fight for it.

So as most things, I was in the minority in familial opinions.

But here’s the thing, when I stand for the National Anthem, I don’t stand in support of the troops.  I stand in support of the country that I live in.  A country where my parents came to in order to provide a better life for my siblings and me.  A country that I am incredibly blessed to live in.  None of these feelings have changed.

However, as with all things we love, there are qualities about this country that I hate.  And the systemic oppression of people of color, especially black people, is disgusting.  Years and years after slavery, the Jim Crow era, Japanese internment, and more, and still the oppression still exists against people of color.  And with all the recent events occurring with the police and black people, it hurts my heart that we still live in a world where we can’t all live as equals.

Which is why I support Kaepernick in sitting when the National Anthem was sung.  Not because I hate this country, but because there are things that need to change immediately.  When people say that not standing for the National Anthem is unpatriotic and shows lack of support for our troops, I take offense.  Despite the fact that I don’t support the war that this country never should have gotten involved in, I 100% support the people that are overseas fighting for this country.  However, when we say that everyone that lives here can enjoy the freedoms that are provided, it’s quite a stretch.  Because the simple fact is that people of color don’t enjoy the same freedom that our white counterparts do. Support of our troops is a patriotic act, and Kaepernick came out and said that he did support the troops.  But he doesn’t support the oppression of black people, and no one should.

For those who support the cause but say it should have been done in a different and more appropriate venue, let’s discuss.  Colin Kaepernick is a football player.  Yes, he may have presence elsewhere, but his biggest presence is on the field.  In order to convey a message to the most people, the most logical place to do so is where he has the most presence: during a game on the field.  There are so many athletes that have spoken out about this oppression, but as much as I hate to say it, I believe that Colin’s actions has been far more effective than any of the other athletes’ actions, and in this I include Michael Jordan’s message (which I have some issues with, but that’s for another time) and the message that began the 2016 ESPYs given by LeBron James, Dwayne Wade, Chris Paul, and Carmelo Anthony.

Some of you may be wondering why I decided to wait so long before posting something about this.  There are two reasons:

1. I wanted to hear what Kaep said about his actions and see what he did the next game.
2. I’ve been really busy.  Shameless explanation for lack of posts.

When Kaep and his teammate Eric Reid took a knee when the National Anthem was sung for the last preseason game, I think it was an effective way of showing support for the troops.  As far as conveyance of the primary message, I think it kind of takes away from it. While I see why Kaep took a knee instead of sitting, I think that he should’ve just stuck to his initial plan of action.  He can come out later to confirm his support for the troops, while still conveying the unjust treatment of people of color in this country.

So many critics of the Black Lives Matter movement say that the protests should be peaceful and non-violent, but when they are, as in the case of Colin Kaepernick, there is still backlash.  So to the critics: in this country, we all have the right to free speech and peaceful protest.  Let us speak.

I support what Kaep did.  I support the movement that Kaep fights for.  I do not support his decision to wear those stupid socks.  However, I understand his feelings toward the police.  But to say all police are the same is a huge generalization.  Just as it is for people to say that all black people are hoodlums and thugs (which is hugely wrong and incredibly racist).  I think he made the right decision in where he decided to convey his message. Overall, I think what he did was necessary in an era where people are too afraid to stand up for what they believe in (see Michael Jordan).

I sit with Colin.

Carried Me Through Desperation

To the one that was waiting for me.

The past week and a half has been a whirlwind of sorts.  The combination of studying for finals, prepping for my cousin’s wedding and a two week trip to the East Coast, which includes trips to Philly, NYC, Jersey, and the DMV area, has left me in a state of exhaustion.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m stoked to be out here instead of being stuck in boring California.  But, especially during the Saturday of the wedding, the exhaustion caught up to me.

I had come to Philly Thursday morning running on 1.5 hours of sleep, and until Saturday night (technically Sunday morning), I had gotten less than three hours of sleep each night. The day of the wedding consisted of one hour of sleep, and an endless barrage of to-do’s prior to the ceremony.  Accompanied with the lack of sleep the whole week due to finals, all I wanted to do was die on Saturday.  I was pulled one way to help with the center pieces, the other way to help with a playlist that never got to play, another way to choreograph a dance, and another way to run countless errands.

In the end, I ended up missing the Gaye Holud at an ungodly 6AM, and the Baraat, which I made a playlist for that never saw the light.  I also missed the bride and groom’s entrance into the reception and didn’t eat dinner at the wedding.

The disorganization for the wedding was astounding; I never thought a wedding being run by a planner could be done so poorly, but I can’t even blame the planner.  My family has never been organized.  In fact, we are pretty much the definition of disorganization.  But you would think that if there was a planner, some type of organization would be followed. But somehow, my family managed to override the careful planning of a wonderful wedding planner and bring about a disastrously disorganized mess of a wedding that can really only be done through my relatives.

I have never really been the person to sit down, plan, sort, and think logically, despite my science background.  That is simply not the way I function.  It’s not necessarily the best way to go about life, but it’s worked thus far, and you know what they say, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

However, when I arrived Thursday at the ass-crack of dawn, instead of heading to sleep to catch up on some much needed Z’s from a not-so-hot finals week, I was immediately sent to run errands that should have been done weeks prior to the week of the wedding.

Now, this isn’t to say that I didn’t want to help with the festivities.  The cousin getting married wasn’t just my cousin, but she was the older sister I never had.  So, I put my feelings to the side because the most important day of her life, not mine, was coming.  And I was ready to do anything to help make this the best for her and her future husband.

I take that back, she is like my second older sister, right after my brother. 😉

But, despite my best efforts, my dysfunctional family always manages to disorganize everything and create huge messes of everything that don’t need to be messed with in the first place.  And they manage to start drama or rekindle the flames of old drama during the MOST inconvenient times.  As my generation of people try to put any and all beef to the back and try to bring about happiness for my cousin who has done so much for us, the older generation cannot stop their bullshit arguments for the sake of their daughter’s/niece’s wedding.  It got so annoying that I tried to avoid and ignore all the adults, including my parents, who I haven’t seen in months, at all costs.  And as always, all the drama that never should have been talked about in the first place caused an incredible amount of disorganization that all ended up falling on my cousin, despite how much we other cousins tried to keep it off of her.  She already has the tendency to take things personally and get emotionally attached to everything, which is why we purposely kept everything going on behind the scenes from her.  She cares too much about familial issues, trivial or not, something I don’t do enough of. My family is cuckoo, I don’t have the energy to care about the trivial shit.

But, despite the shit-show of stuff that happened prior to the wedding, the end result was a success.  The bride and groom enjoyed their time celebrating their love and matrimony, and we as the spectators watched lovingly as their happiness spread contagiously around the room and seeped into the hearts of even the emotionally unavailable like myself.  The alcohol was flowing, the music was popping, and two beers, three vodka cranberries, a green tea martini, and countless ratchets dances later, I was propelled through the wedding of two people who I care deeply about.

Because not even fucked up family dynamics can stop a love like theirs.

#curryfriedchicken

 

So If You’re Down On Your Luck

Then you should know just how it feels. 

Next week is the last week of my undergraduate career.

It feels weird to even be thinking of that.  For the past 17 years of my life, I have been subjected to the rigors of the educational system, endlessly being fed the history of the country, the inferior societal positions of people of color and women, the never-ending confusion of how to take the tangent of an angle.

And it’s coming to an end next week.

Four years ago, when I entered college, I already wanted it to end.  I was so fed up with school, and not only did I go to school in a place where I didn’t want to go initially, I was simply tired of being part of this robotic system of education that society wants us all to be part of.  I didn’t want to be in school; I wanted to travel and learn about the world.  But, from a young age I was taught that education is the only way to be successful in life.  And I was kept from wandering off on to the road less traveled, and kept on the path to college.

But as my undergraduate years come to and end, I realized that I had a change of heart over the past four years.  Yes, I do wish that I was able to go out every weekend, befriend more people, and live the life of a business major (stereotype, but most business majors I know are major partiers).  Instead, I decided to be a science major, and slave over endless lecture slides of electron pushing mechanisms, biochemical pathways, and oxidation-reduction reactions.  I worked all four years of college, and decided that financial comfort was more important to me than going out bar hopping in the Mission.  After all, these student loans and San Francisco rent ain’t gon’ pay itself.  And, I don’t regret the decision that I made.

Throughout my years, I went through some tough times outside of class.  My mom was diagnosed with cancer, my brother was arrested twice and survived a car crash that should’ve killed him, I had to kick roommates out of my apartment for various reasons, my grandmom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and my parents moved to Colorado.  All of these affected my already fucked up mental state tremendously.  My grades slipped in crucial times of the semester, and ended up lowering my GPA.  But, I haven’t dropped below a cumulative GPA of 3.0, and although not what I wanted, it was good, considering the shit I had to endure.  Yes, I know I have it a lot better than most, but considering how privileged I was to grow up the way I did, this stuff was hard.

It is true that many of my classes required me to memorize a shit ton of things, but when I was taught, and not lectured at, I learned.  Instead of memorizing the glycolytic pathway, I learned the purpose of the pathway is to create pyruvate, which is subsequently used in the electron transport chain, oxidative-phosphorylation, and ATP synthase to create the energy we use, ATP.  I isolated alkaline phosphatase from a K-12 strain of E. coli, and studied its kinetics.  I learned.

Initially, I hated the idea of going to college, but it was the only path I knew to take.  Now, I am thankful for my education.  Whether or not I use it in my career, I am thankful.  I learned so much problem solving and, surprisingly, creative thinking from all of my science classes.  I learned that I am capable of success if I work hard enough.  I learned that I work best under pressure.  I learned that although I am not perfect, I am a succeeding work in progress.  My grades are not the best, but they aren’t the worst.  I could’ve done way better if I applied myself more.  But, college is hard.  I let things get to me when they shouldn’t have.  My work and volunteer experience brought about a new understanding of the world I wouldn’t have experienced had I not gone to college.

So as my undergraduate career comes to an end, it’s a bittersweet feeling.  I’m glad the seemingly never-ending lecture notes, the bad lecturers, the terrible tests, and pretentious classmates are in my past.  But, I’ll be stepping outside the overbearing system I’ve been sheltered by for the past 17 years.  And I’m still clueless as ever about my future.

And although graduate school is still in my future, I need to figure out what I’ll be going there for.  So, for the time between now and grad school, I’m scared.  This chunk of time is so crucial for me to not disappoint my parents that I’m getting anxious just typing about it.

I don’t know if I had any direction in what I wrote, I’m literally going off the top when I usually write things down prior to posting.  But, the main takeaway is this:

I’m scared.

 

What’s It Gonna Be

‘Cause I can’t pretend.

This post has really has nothing to do with sports, but was inspired by a story I saw yesterday.  Stay or leave at your own discretion, but please stay. 🙂

Yesterday, Carmelo Anthony of the New York Knicks and member of Team USA’s basketball team from the 2016 Summer Olympics in Rio came out with a statement apologizing to Vanessa Carlton for “negatively” reacting to her song “A Thousand Miles” when his fellow Team USA teammates were belting the song.

The video, filmed by DeMar DeRozan, featured at overzealous Jimmy Butler belting the song, a strangely robed KD, and, in my eyes, a pretty indifferent ‘Melo.  But I see how it can be interpreted as the face of someone who is slightly annoyed at his younger teammates.

But I have a serious case of RBF, so I’m pretty sure my normal face looks like that, which is why I think he looks indifferent.

I have two issues with this story:

1. Why is this even a story?  Seriously, who actually gives a flying fuck that the guys were singing a song brought further into prominence by a metrosexual Terry Crews in a terrible-yet-so-good movie?
2. Is Carmelo Anthony not allowed to have an opinion, especially an opinion regarding a song?  Why did he have to apologize to a virtually irrelevant one hit wonder singer who I often get confused with Michelle Branch?  He came out saying in his apology that he actually likes the song, but I have to ask, does he really like it, or is he simply saying it to save face and appease the masses?

Which brings up a bigger philosophical equation: are we, as people, not allowed to have opinions on anything, in an attempt to not hurt others’ feelings?

As a Millennial, I can say with confidence that it is hard to have a conversation with my fellow Millennials without offending some of them.

I am someone with a very crude sense of humor.  I find many things funny, or can find the humor, in situations that are typically considered reprehensible.  This doesn’t apply to everything, such as dog fighting or rape; there is nothing funny about those.  But it does apply to racially charged, satirical jokes.  These jokes, which harbor such a heavy amount of stereotypes about the race in question, are funny, because although a stereotype, there are cases in which these stereotypes hold true.  Do I believe in these jokes and stereotypes?  No, but I find the racial satire hilarious, hence my love for The Boondocks.

But there are times in life when there are overly sensitive people that take these jokes, and really everything, so damn seriously.  And unfortunately, most of these people are of my generation, which is why I say that this generation needs to grow a fucking backbone.  It is so tiresome to constantly keep myself in check, and censor everything I say just so I don’t offend someone.  This isn’t to say that social norms in society are good; there are definitely things that need to get fixed, but there are things that we need to get over.  I can’t say anything without offending someone.

For example, I said the word, “Bitch,” to an overbearing feminist acquaintance, who was subsequently at my throat, yelling that the word is offensive to women, and as a female, I need to stop saying the word.

My response: “Bitch, shut the fuck up.”

I do believe in equal rights and treatment for women, but if I say that word, it’s my choice. You choose not to say the word, and that is your prerogative; you have an opinion on whether or not using the word is socially correct, and whether or not I agree, I respect the fact you have an opinion.

However, the majority of my generation doesn’t have the same mindset as I do.  All they care about is not offending someone, and if offended, they get incredibly butt-hurt (big words, I know) and express that emotion to everyone, whether or not anyone actually cares.  This fragile mindset of my generation utterly disgusts me, and I can’t help but wonder how we became like this.

I am a first generation American; I was raised by two immigrant parents who taught me to stand up to others and to criticize myself before criticizing others.  These two ideologies have blossomed into my being as a woman who has strong beliefs, but who can take criticism because I criticize my beliefs often, finding the holes in my ideologies, so I can strengthen them.  Because I practice this, I am able to take criticism and other negative opinions about me or my beliefs relatively well.  However, many of my millennial counterparts are unable to do so, and it aggravates me.

So, to my fellow Millennials, grow a backbone.  Realize that not everyone is going to agree with you, no matter how right you may be.  So instead of getting offended at worked up at someone’s obviously reprehensible views, take the time to educate them in a non-overbearing manner.  If they are unresponsive, let it go, and realize not everyone is going to change.  Realize that there are bigger problems in the world than someone not liking a song by an irrelevant artist.  Realize that getting offended by everything in the world will literally get you nowhere in the world.  Yes, there are plenty of ideologies that need to be changed in the world, but we cannot constantly sweat the small things.

So, my message to Carmelo: Take your apology back.  You’re entitled to your own opinion.

 

Just That: Trapped.

Go on and marinate on that for a minute. 

In less than two weeks, my cousin is getting married.

She is the first cousin in the group of cousins I grew up with that is getting married. Rightfully so, she is the oldest one.  She just turned 29 in June, and in Indian culture, for a female, getting married that “late” in life is considered taboo.  Even my parents, who are far more progressive than many other Indian parents, have told me that I need to get married by 25 or 26.

Let me remind you that I’m 22.  And with my track record, there is not a chance in hell that I’m going to be married by 26.

My second oldest cousin that I grew up with is turning 27 in September, and her mom already told her that she won’t be paying for my cousin’s wedding because she is over 24 years old, which was her marriage “deadline.”  In my cousin’s defense, she was in a relationship at 24, but it was abusive.

The older generations’ ideas that women are to be married at a young age are deeply rooted in the culture: my mom got married at 19, my grandmother at 17, and my great grandmother at 16.  The sheer thought of me getting married at any of those ages can’t fully register in my head; it is so incredibly and unbelievably insane.  I don’t even consider myself an adult right now; I couldn’t even fathom stepping into adult hood at any of those ages by walking around a pit of fire seven times.

To be totally honest, I still can’t see myself doing that now or in the future.  Maybe it’s just because I haven’t found the right man, but I have never really picture myself getting married.  I have always been a really independent person; I don’t (or at least try not to) rely on other people for things.  When I do, most of the time I end up regretting it. Growing up, I’ve had crushes, but never envisioned myself in a relationship (that could also be attributed to low self-esteem).  Prior relationships and attempts at relationships have failed because I felt too tied down because of the other person, a feeling I cringe at.

But the thing is, just because I don’t necessarily want or picture myself marrying doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be with someone.  I would like a partner, and definitely want kids, but the whole idea of marriage is still up in the air.  And it’s kind of strange that it is. I’m the product of a good marriage: my parents have been happily (or so it seems) married for 30 years.  The two sets of aunts and uncles that I’m closest to have also been happily married for around the same amount of time.

But outside of this small group, many of the other marriages that I am exposed to are verbally and emotionally abusive, incredibly male dominant, which is everything I do not want.  But it is so prevalent in Indian culture (I say this as if there is a chance of me getting married to an Indian man, HA!  Never say never, though). And despite my exposure to really successful marriages, it is that bad ones that are imprinted on me.  I see my aunts getting abused constantly, being told they are dumb and don’t do anything right, and they just sit there are take it.  And that scares me.

On top of that, with some places saying divorce rates are as high as 50%, it deters me from even wanting to commit myself to someone on paper.  This isn’t to shit on anyone who has gotten a divorce, but I hope that people don’t strive to marry knowing that if it doesn’t work out, there is always divorce.  If I get married, I don’t want to have to go through that. Almost all my friends’ parents are divorced, and some have of “horror” stories of the trauma caused by their parents splitting up.  It saddens me that I am in the minority of my close friends whose parents are still together.

And this is why commitment and marriage scare me.

But, despite my thoughts, the questions will inevitably asked when I come to face all the family and family friends that I haven’t seen in awhile: “Jess, do you have a boyfriend? Jess, when are you getting married?  Your time is coming soon!”  And of course, these questions and statements will disproportionately be asked to the females in attendance , because we are supposed to strive for marriage, and the men have to strive for money, power, and success.  And of course, as a female, my success is based upon whether I marry or not.

Just as Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie says it happens in her Nigerian African culture, the same females-striving-for-marriage attitude exists in my culture.  They rarely ask me what I want to do with my degree (which I’m glad for), but instead ask about my non-existent partner and our future nuptial.

It irritates me that I as a woman cannot be thought of as independent from a man, when in reality, that is exactly what I am.  But the reverse of this ideology is so normal to society.  I don’t strive for marriage in my life right now, I strive for success and independence.  I strive to be content with myself.  If in the pursuit of these I do find a man to spend the rest of my life with, then I’ll deal with that when the time comes.

But for now, I’m good.