"Why are white people at the Harlem Pride!?!?... What are these old white people doing there?!?"

Ever since I finished Misfits last week, I have been feeling empty on the inside. Probably because I have little else to look forward to after the hour drive back from work.

And thank goodness that work is enjoyable, making my one hour drive each way directly toward the sun semi worth it. Sitting in the same corridor with my immediate boss, having to light turned off the entire day because he too, does not enjoy strong lights while listen to him talk out loud to his emails (i.e: today's post's title) and give his computer sass for being non-cooperative has been a blast. There is always something for me to do, I don't have to constantly watch my back for a personal neck-breather, and I can eat at my desk anytime I want (probably not a good idea in the long run). I guess I am blessed to have found this job after almost a year of struggling. And despite Peace Corps being on hold for now, I consider this a part of my Peace Corps training since I'm sure what I see/learn here will be useful in Peace Corps.

Plus, every day, I get to enjoy these wonderful perks such as:

a. Mexican fruits stand from across the street. Can you say fiber?

for only FOUR dollars

b. random non-homeless looking individuals passing out in front of family oriented locations such as this elderly home

some people just like to forget
that Tuesday ever happened

And that's pretty much it.

Every morning, I drive to work dreaming of being somewhere else, especially on days when the sun is so fucking bright at only 8am (which is every-fucking-day). Ihatesummer. I don't particularly miss San Diego, I have had my times there, and it was/is time for me to move on and out, so not being there doesn't make me sad. I am only sad that instead of being in SD or somewhere else, I am in LA.

So many factors play into the reasons of why LA is a terrible city for me. And as this blog is pretty much always on the borderline of personal rants vs. a display of my travel and experience, I'm gonna put one foot over the other line today and complain today, so this is your last chance to stop reading now.

Alright, don't say I didn't warn you.


If it weren't for that fact that I have to pay back my student loans, I would rather spend 300 bucks a month renting out a living or a small closet size bedroom somewhere in downtown LA closer to my work and call it a day. Instead, I am living with my parents, and even though thanks to work, my interaction with them only limits to just a few hours at night, they feel like eternities. If there is anything that I will never ever be, that is a nagging house wife or an over bearing mother, which pretty much collectively describes my mother among other things.

 I used to not get along with my dad, primarily because he's old school and prefers boys over girls and would rather that I am domesticated. Despite the gender clash, we are relatively alike on several levels, and I learned more of that from my Vietnam trip. He generally leaves me alone, and even thought we do have our screaming matches, we get over it. It's a very man relationship, and I am complete content with it.

My mother, on the other hand, is pretty much a 270 degrees from me. It's not a 360 degrees because she's still my mom, and like it or not, there are certain things that we are alike. But she is, hands down, the main reason why living here is so unbearable. For her, there is no such thing as overbearing. She believes that she must be in the know and involves in everything for me to really know that she cares, and that my dad's empathic approach pretty much makes him a bastard toward his family. I guess what I am similar from her is that we are both stubborn, and so as long as she lives, she continues to acknowledge that what she does is no longer necessary or appropriate. Everyday, she pushes me further and further away from her. I'm 23 already, I still shouldn't have to fight about what time I should be home at night or feel so guilty for all the "dishonorable" things I have done (i.e: kissing boys, drinking, making penis jokes) (that she would never know). I never feel that I should apologize for them, (even thought some were terrible mistakes) but for some reason, being under her roof again, regrets keep tugging at my soul.

Someday, I feign ignorance and deaf, but some other days, it's just so hard, and that is when I feel so lonely for being in this town, missing my friends who are now all scattered elsewhere post grad.

Okay, the last sentence might have been an exaggeration, but I really just want to get out of here. Curses, student loans, curses.

Can't wait to win Kindle on eBay to start reading (free) books (that I downloaded online).