What do I want to do with my life?

I hate my job. No, I don’t hate my job as a whole experience but as a job. A place, a routine, a social atmosphere, a way to make money to feed myself and to pay my credit card monthly. I don’t think it’s the worst job in the world but it certainly isn’t the greatest. I can easily hit my sales target in a couple of hours and am only able to take home a fraction. None of it is satisfying. It’s essential to make the dough for the big people in order to get paid. I’m not mad about getting a job and making money for other people, I’m mad that I don’t have a CAREER PATH. Period.

I’m in the transition period of leaving academia. I’ve studied, took tests, wrote a bajillion essays and even tried to start a start up… I couldn’t start because the timing was so wrong to start a company that I was ill-prepared for. I didn’t make deep connections with anyone in grad school because I was insecure and scared. I wanted to find a good internship but never found one that suited me. I didn’t date anyone. Never seeked for honest geeky boys but ended up hooking up with a (very handsome and patient) man with a high school education and one bedroom in a shared apartment. We still keep in touch even though he broke my heart. I heard my heart drop and shatter to pieces. I still care about him. I met another guy who is so kind and naive; went on one date with him and he left the country 2 days later. He texts me overseas and plans to marry me. Lol. I’m at loss for words to describe how this all came to be. Long story short, I know what the right thing to do is, I just can’t seem to bring myself to do it.

I made good decisions for most of my life.

I separated my reality from my dreams on a daily basis.

There would be a big house with a grand living room and a huge window overlooking a beach. I would be sitting on the terrace with a cup of tea in hand, looking outward while wearing a beige cashmere sweater. I love the idea of sitting below and enjoying the rain on a beach. 

That’s what I want for myself. I don’t have a game plan to make it happen. I’ve been so anxious in the past couple of years that my doctor gave me medication to normalize my brain matter. I don’t want a job. I want to do what I look forward to each and everyday upon waking up. What exactly is it???

  • An author
  • A scriptwriter
  • A stylist
  • An interior designer
  • A TV personality


It was time well spent

I decided to write about the first time that I laid eyes on him; it was full of mystery. His eyes were dark but they were not shiny. They were filled with curiosity and interesting ideas about me that I had not known about yet. Not dull but filled with content that I was similar if not identical to my photo that he had seen. This was our first date. We had met through an online dating app, popular with the hipsters, musicians, avant-garde art history majors at rich elite schools. Oh, there were lawyers, brokers, financial analysts and medical students who didn’t need sleep but ran off on their testosterone levels and caffeinated congregations; it was filled with men up to your imagination. Indeed, the whole nine yards and back. All in all, I chose him. 

Cafe Desire. Let’s attach an innuendo for the sake of my story. We scheduled to meet at the cafe at around 4 o’clock. I remember the way he abruptly texted me after work. Back then, he worked a 9-5 and now he works from 5-9 at night (another story, I promise). “I’m here,” the text buzzed. Shit, I must’ve walked past the cafe. It was on the other block and I rushed through traffic to get a distance view of this dark hair novela star look-alike. It was so exciting to imagine meeting the man who was so handsome that I could watch him breathe and probably fall in love. I did, I had already fallen in love with the sight of him. His profile photos.

“I’m here, I walked to the ba-” I looked up and there he was. Tall, broad shouldered, chest hair sticking out of his black collar polo. He was 6 ft and above, baseball cap on his head, soft black curly hair, and thick THICK brows with a perfect beard. I thought I was dreaming… he was so maturely handsome. I was 5 ft 6, petite and wore dress pants from my part time job as an assistant. I looked like a 13 year old pretending to be an adult. He didn’t seem to mind. He checked me out when he let me walk in front of him.  I know. I could feel his eyes wandering when I walked hehehe. I leaned in for a hug and he smelled so damn good. He wore the same scent, the day that we broke off and went our separate ways.

Our conversations brought out the best of our personalities. Sad to say, if it had just shown him how strong and naive I was, perhaps we’d would’ve went our seperate ways. I was talkative, animated, energetic, bubbly, impatient, angry, moody, logical, confident, held high standards…. he was passionate, passive, listener, shy, soft, kind, whimsical, egotistic and open-minded… did I say passionate already?? It was his ploy to turn around and make very little of our times together since I fell deeply for him.

There were frequent texts exchanges between us. We did not infrequently see one another because I did not want any suspicion from my parents. The first night that I slept over was on my birthday. It was honestly, the best way to spend my birthday with a man who really made me feel so appreciated and happy. We had Mexican food; we ate it on his bed while watching online movies. He didn’t have Netflix – he was very selective with his money spending choices. He didn’t see the point in spending it on things that had an free alternative. That actually bothered me a bit. I don’t like a man who cannot see the issue of being too sparing and holding his money so tightly; I don’t particularly like men who use coupons or are too frugal. I mean, like, that’s my job. (My mother use to say, if a man is extremely nit picky with how he spends money, he will most likely be extremely cheap in treating you). It’s a major turnoff.

I never caught on to it. I always thought it was because he needed a better job that paid more. But as time went by, he never took me out for dinner. He never called to say he made reservations or planned a trip for us. He never invited me to go anywhere with him. We had breakfast and brunch as part of the sleepover routine but our late night conversations were filled with so much real talk. I loved to have conversations with people; deep enriching convos that you could not have with people in your 9-5 jobs or at classes. Conversations that could only open up to become what I thought was the best couple of hours in a week. He was critical of our people’s appearances and so was I. But when he happened to put on a few pounds, I knew I couldn’t put on any weight. I would feel deeply unattractive if I had eaten before we had met. I didn’t want to weigh any more than I did after a midday fast; I always wanted to be the best and have the more interesting stories to have our discussions. Sometimes, I feel as if I should’ve never texted him after he was in a relationship for a couple of months. I never felt so foolish in my life. I did it because not only was I emotionally attached to him. I was also too gullible to believe that he would not date me as a long term companion. His relationships did not last long, as I can see now he does not date for the long term. He had so many secrets but he was so open about his failed engagement, his lack of ability to deal with pressure and conventional standards about sex without commitment, his disinterest in feelings and emotions, he was so closed off to letting anyone into his mind that he was afraid he would break into a million pieces if that person had left him, first.

That was the issue. He could tug on my heartstrings but I felt hopeless tugging at his. There was only a fall out each time. He was honest, I was naive but not honest about my feelings. I never showed him the side of me that needed to be saved. It seemed as if I had all that I could ever want because I ALWAYS showed him the best side of me.

to be continued…



A dream

I woke up to the mere thought of him. It was such an awful dream about the man who meant so much to me. Last year, I thought we would be a couple after enduring the ups and downs. Petty drama. Not big financial losses or major consequences. Not a thing that involves a life change on either of our behalf. Just mood-swings and uncertainty. He had frequented other women and dated once, when we were not in constant contact in many months. In my heart, I knew he was not the one but I tried to push aside my conscious and let him in again. It’s hard to let this all go. I remind myself to not think about the memories and all the passionate moments we’ve shared. Truth is, we had an intense moment that broke both of our spirits before we went separate ways. I never did say goodbye and we never did speak to one another, again. To this day, I still don’t have any closure.

I can still feel his rapture around me. The intensity of his soul is filled with warmth. His hands tightly grasp my waists. I don’t want to look anywhere else but in his eyes. They are kind and so gentle. The look of a little sad puppy with hazel eyes… so charming for a man who loves animals and children. He puts his face onto my face and down my neck as to let me know he is serious, patient, firm and ready for me. I too am ready. I close my eyes and bite my lower lip… he is all I want. The moment of truth. It feels beyond anything I could ever want. The conjoining of souls becomes the center of our focus… and so he closes his eyes. I can barely keep anything contained. Not too loud… I cannot promise. It gets faster. My heart pounces a mile a minute. I place my hand onto his heart, I can hear the infinity. I break into a little smile. 

He was with someone else. No face, no name and no recognition. Where am I?

We never did make it to climax. The last day that I was with him, he was more distraught and sad than I’ve ever seen him. Somewhere along the time, he became a bit violent and angry. I never did want him to leave me. I never felt more safe and secure in my entire life. I felt what I never felt before. But that was too good to be true in the long run.

They say, “God breaks your heart, to save your soul.”

We take from people when we don’t value in our own life.

January 2018 update

It has been two years since I have posted an update on this blog. A lot has changed since I wrote about my days as a student living in my parent’s apartment. I am still living here… by myself. My parents have moved into a house further away from this location, so it’s not a entirely convenient commute for them to visit me. I prefer to live by myself. I kicked out my roommate because of her psychotic ways and lack of consideration for me. This was my home, growing up, the rules that were made to maintain cleanliness shall stay the same. New chapter. New solo life. New hair color. Soft black. Used to cover up my so-called “reverse ombre” that I picked out impulsively at the salon. A week later, spent 4.99 to cover the hideous color. Why doesn’t any of my actions surprise me anymore?

Last month, I graduated with my Masters from one of the most deceiving programs in the world. Don’t twist my words, I said “deceiving” and not in a condescending way as if the program is useless. Lol. If only… I could’ve done other things before I went to grad school. (I’ll explain in another post, someday). Currently, I have a part-time job. I hate the fact that I could not ever get a call-back from my prospective job offers. I have had a customer offer me job in the store, been tipped by a foreigner, et etc. at this part-time job. I love meeting new people who are more excited than I am. Makes my time at work go by quickly. There has to more to this job than subtle discussions about the product. There is. I just don’t want to work in corporate. So, I cannot see myself escalating in this branch of work. I’ve been reading a lot — Latin/Spanish authors, plots or just ideas about living abroad in another Spanish-influenced country. I’m ready to focus on myself. I read “The Alchemist” in my bed, eating in my kitchen, sitting on the subway, etc. Finished it in less than two weeks, and had to go to the library to borrow more insightful reads. I’m currently switching between two – ‘Only in Spain’ and ‘The Witch of Portobello.’ Fascinated by both characters’ courage and realization of their true selves. I can relate to both of these women – they recognized their urge to break out of their scenarios and found their inner selves by testing their limits. I can’t stop crying when I read about Athena in ‘The Witch of Portobello,’ I can relate to her descriptions and her words (as narrated by many people in her life).

I’m having a hard time coping with my own past. I know, I know, the past is the past. We should move on and embrace all that the present provides us with. Except, my present and my future is solely dependent on my past. I can’t explain it on the internet yet but I will one day. I promise. I’m really taking things one day at a time.

I always wind up deleting the blog posts that I take the most time to write. The ones that require a lot of effort and thinking to compose a decent piece of writing so others can read it and know I’m not dead, that I have feelings and emotions. It’s so exhausting- tiring because I have a stack of pdfs to finish reading. It doesn’t make me any more well-learned or more knowledgeable in the utmost simplistic styles of communication. I don’t know why this article was assigned or for what purpose, but the content does match to the key concepts in the other articles for my two other classes. Highlighter, check. Paperback course packet, check. Bottle of Evian water, check. (The 1 L kind, you know, the one that you drink because you buy into the belief that you need to keep drinking water, not to only hydrate yourself but to keep yourself alive in the midst of reading for a profession that you might not even have)… what career field is that? I can’t even think about that. I’m in the zone of applying to all the places that have some level of communication with the outside world. Sounds just like almost every place you know? Except they don’t want me. So guess what? I’m going to start my own business. My own virtual space to make money and send it back to pay back my education aka student loans. I might delete this post later for the sake of not stepping up my A-game writing it. These are the thoughts inside my head. I ramble on and on because I don’t want to complain to another person about these problems that I shouldn’t be having. Noone can tell me to not have these issues but I can’t fully understand the implications of not working and making money. I’m not happy but most of what i have is paid for already. I’m just not happy because I’m not being fully utilized. I want to make a contribution to society. I’ve been asking these large companies to provide me with a opportunity, why not just work on creating these opportunities, myself?!?! I will find out what I want to do on the internet… besides blog and scare people away from reading the longest post they’ll encounter in the day. No facts, semi-solid knowledge about life, and just a graduate student whining about my current circumstances while the rest of the world is suffering, starving and willing to sacrifice their all to have a quarter of what I have.

I deserve what I have. But I want to use my resources and what I know, to make a real contribution to someone else’s life. How. Do. I. Get. Started. I need answers.

Dear Future Daughter,

No one will make you feel stronger or weaker than yourself. You are more than the shade of lipstick that you wear, the mascara that you put on, the outfits that you’ve saved to wear on special occasions, the color of your nail polish. You are the original gift that God has brought into this world; you are the curve of your smile and the magic vibrations that you send to each person you meet in this world. Love, no one can steal your thunder. You are confident and bright – you are strong in your own skin and your mind speaks louder than your words when you’re experiencing hard times.