The Pandemic in a Nutshell

The last entry I posted was last August. My goodness, it felt like an eternity ago, yet I still remember that month like it was yesterday.

I had never thought that I will live through a pandemic. I recall those days where my relatives and/or friends and I discussed about what it could be like. Now I know what it is like, and I will not wish that on anybody. I am embarrassed by how Americans have had behaved: refusing to wear masks, spreading conspiracy theories about the COVID-19 vaccine, and not social-distancing. Yet, we are on the fast track for herd immunity. Why? Other countries have cooperated with the safety guidelines overall, but they have to wait longer for the vaccine. I am aware that many Americans complied with those guidelines; however, there are no consequences for the Americans who have chosen otherwise. Many of them I know are lining up for the vaccine. They do not recognize that their actions in the last 8 months have hurt the overall health of the community. Where is the accountability?

People are deeply divided by politics in this country insofar as true colors have been coming out. That is another long-term consequence of the pandemic– realizing that certain individuals you considered trustworthy will be more likely to not do good for the community during crises.

Was I perfect during the pandemic? Truthfully, no. I tried my best. I had to be careful with my mental health because staying home for 13 months is hard. I eventually developed coping methods, but those typically lose their luster over time.

My workplace will finally open up the campus in two weeks from now, and I am apprehensive about it. Everybody has had been directly impacted by the pandemic one way or another. There is so much trauma to unpack, yet we, the educators, are expected to conduct our lesson plans as if the pandemic had never happened. Moreover, we were told that we should listen to our students’ needs; however, there is insufficient support from the counseling team. How do we juggle our jobs when we are expected to function as counselors, social workers, and parents (for the students from unstable homes), as well?

The Power of Self-Compromise

I am not a morning person. It is difficult for me to be productive when I wake up. First of all, it will take me many snoozes to finally get up, and even by then, I will just stare off in the distance with a hot cup of coffee for a good thirty minutes.  If people talk to me the first two hours after I wake up, my train of thoughts is abruptly disturbed, I become grouchy. It is not my intention to be cranky. I am simply not a morning person.

Now that I am an adult, my innate sleeping schedule has changed. I no longer pull all-nighters and stay awake all day until the next night. I can’t do it anymore. I am not a spring chicken anymore. I need to sleep well if I want to function.

You know what is ironic? I am a teacher, and I still can’t manage to get up early in the morning. While living in Santa Fe, I will wake up 20 minutes before 8 AM and race off to my workplace in 10. I was a pro at getting ready last-minute, but my brain was not there. I pondered the possibility of changing my sleep schedule, but whenever I do it, I just can’t do it or quickly give up. Later, one of my favorite deaf Instagram influencers started a project where she got up at 5 AM nearly every morning, and I envied her. I tried her advice, but, alas, I didn’t succeed.

I recently moved to Albuquerque last December, and it was a tedious challenge for me because of the train schedule. I had to get up at 5-5:15 if I want to catch the train at 6:22. If I do not, I will miss work inadvertently. Over time, I started to like it. However, the pandemic and reality clashed, and I stayed home all the time. It was frustrating for me because everything I need to do to get ahead in life is online: teaching online and graduate school. I lead an active online life where I interact with others too. From there, my sleeping schedule was whacked. I became depressed and anxious. Frustrated as well. I started to sleep in more often, and my productivity was no longer there anymore.

I became distraught when I realized that I can’t get up at 5 AM daily. I can do it sparsely over time.

For the last two weeks, I knew the first day of school will come quickly. My teaching schedule is not so bad, but I have many commitments. Teaching, graduate school, and now a dossier I need to complete for my job.

So, I told myself, “You do not need to get up at 5AM. Just do it anytime from 5AM to 6AM.” Guess what happened? Suddenly, I am up between 5:30-6 daily. I do sleep longer during the weekend. This is a major achievement, and I don’t feel emotionally nor physically drained by this commitment anymore. Instead of punishing myself when I don’t get up before 6 AM, I think to myself, “That is OK. I will do better tomorrow.”

And I did.

The American Dream

One of my most profound childhood shames was my house. I bounced back and forth between my father’s house and my mother’s countless houses. She moved everywhere insofar I have memories of asking her, “Did you move to a new place?” From time to time, we will crash at drug junkies’ houses. Strangers’ homes. Friendly signers who let us stay at their houses out of pity.

When my father decided that we will no longer see her, albeit, for good reasons, I started to observe his house. By then, shame was born. My relatives and friends had big, beautiful houses. My home was just a tiny 800 sq ft house with four bedrooms, a narrow laundry room, a living room, and a kitchen. Of course, we had a bathroom. There was a garage as well. My single favorite aspect of that house was the exterior color, light blue-gray.  H

However, we had a roach problem. The living room was cramped. We were always in each other’s space. It was a happy place, but as I grew older, it became my prison. I was jealous of people with fancy houses. I picked up a hobby during my teenage years because of my unpleasant experiences: house-stalking. I obsessively looked up homes for sale and saved my favorites for more than a decade. I dreamed of having a Cinderella’s castle style house with rooms dedicated to dozens of themes, “Oh, this room will be the outer space room. That room will look like the tropical forest. I also want to have a room filled with those neat chairs where Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen posed in a whimsical style.”

As much as I was ashamed of my childhood house, I was grateful that I did not live in a mobile home. I was not jealous of some people I know living in mobile homes. I was relieved that my house was not that bad. Those houses were poorly maintained. I remember wanting to gag and die when I discovered the light fixture above the dining room being covered with roaches as I ate with an acquaintance and her family. I kept telling myself to not be rude because they were poor, and they can’t help it. I recall asking the acquaintance, “Did you guys consider removing the roaches from the light fixture?” She was shocked and said, “NO! Those are gross! We will never touch them!” Ok, but you do not have a problem eating below the roach-infested light fixture daily? I went with my father to visit his friends living in mobile homes many times, and those were moldy and stinky. One can imagine my shock when I, an adult, discovered that my grandmother lived in one because it was well-kept and practically scent-free. It doesn’t matter because I associated mobile homes with the shitty ones I saw all my life.  As a youngling, I swore to myself that I will never live in one ever.

In college, I realized that houses overall are expensive, and sadly, it is difficult to live comfortably with an average salary, along with student loans. Determined, I told myself that I will find a lovely home, but never a manufactured house. Never. 

When I moved to New Mexico and got my first car, it was probably when I became fully independent. Reality eventually sunk in. Houses are expensive. I am drowning in debt. I started reading articles and memes about how people who build tiny houses or convert their vans into homes are hypocrites. “They do not want to experience the stigma of having a cheap house, so they make it a cute trend to have a tiny house. That is classist.” I was guilty of this. No shit. I stumbled across a cute mobile home on Zillow and thought to myself, “This one is cute. Affordable. But it is a mobile home!” Then I questioned my priorities, “Ok, do you prefer to live in a fancy house and be broke or live comfortably while having a mobile home? You know, with the latter, you will be likely to experience less financial anxiety when an emergency comes up.” My perspective on it began to waver, but eventually, my determination to have a non-mobile home came back.

Years later… 

When I began dating my partner, he told me that he wants to live in a mobile home. Yes, a mobile home. I was horrified. I told him no. He said that he grew up in one, and it was not that bad. I persisted, “No.”  He saw me browsing through houses on Zillow and many times. He will sigh and say, “I want to have a mobile home because it is affordable.” I ignored those comments. He stopped and was like, “Ok, you want a house like that? We gotta save up a lot of money.”

Months passed… 

Last Sunday, I came across a cute fixer-upper on and pointed it out to him. It is affordable. Merely 90K, but the house was in poor shape, so there was room for negotiation. We got excited, so we drove all the way there. The surrounding was beautiful. We saw a nearby watermelon patch. However, the house appeared as if the floor was about to collapse. The back door was unlocked, so we walked in. We found many pictures of sexy women in bikinis plastered over some walls. The floor was full of trash. There were two gigantic TVs. He opened the refrigerator and found maggots in food. The foundation and the roof have holes.

We talked about it, and he said that we can fix it up. I had a queasy feeling. Something was nagging at me. I really wanted the house, but something about it bothered me.

So, we got home and discussed it. I signed up for information about that house, and a real estate agent immediately contacted me. I explained to him the decaying state and asked him if it was possible to negotiate the price. He said that the owner is not conducting a sale through the bank, and they expect cash upfront.

I was offended. That house? Its bones can be salvageable, but not for 90K. It will take approximately 100-150K to renovate.

My partner and I dropped the plan, our dreams shattered.

I went to the bedroom to sulk in bed. Somehow I concluded that it doesn’t make sense if I want to buy a house in shambles and renovate it when I can quickly get a new manufactured home at a lower price. It suddenly clicked in my mind… I should live below my financial means. I can buy land for cheap and get a manufactured house and easily have all of my debts paid off in a decade or a bit more.

Also, what if my partner or I get sick, and one of us has to pay rent? How can we afford the rent of, let’s say, $1,200 monthly if one of us loses our jobs? If I stubbornly get my dream house, I will not live comfortably. I will not be able to afford to go to different restaurants, traveling, and etc. I decided to look through and several FB pages dedicated to mobile homes. People on those pages were very positive about it. I learned a lot more than I expected.

Walking up to my partner, I sighed, “Ok, you are right. Getting a mobile home makes sense for our financial budgets.” He was thrilled, and he said that he hoped that I would come to my senses eventually, which I did. I ended up looking through mobile homes for sale that night, and we came across several designs we liked.

So, I acknowledge that I contributed a lot to the stigma all my life because of the shame ingrained in me starting at a young age, and honestly, it doesn’t help that people did not take care of their mobile homes where I grew up. However, I realized that those people were probably too poor to keep up with the maintenance in their homes, so I can’t judge them.

Really, I am excited right now. It is nice to have realistic goals. A manufactured house fits my budget, so mobile homeowners are probably better at managing their financial means.

As of right now, I am saving up money to buy land with my partner next year, and from there, we will see what our land title allows us to build or not. In a few years from now, I may have my sweet home!

Day in the Life

This morning I got up around 5:30am. While making banana bread coffee (some kind of tea), I was tempted to take a picture of the tin box and post it on my IG story. I immediately have flashbacks of my youngling self obsessing over the “Day in the Life” Livejournal community. I loved reading it during my junior high and high school days while LiveJournal was still popular. Many people within that community had fascinating lives. Some lived in the Southwest of the US, some in Sweden, some in Australia, and etc.  I even recall one poster living in Antarctica!

Their days were ordinary, but for some reason, I loved browsing those pictures. The typical day in the life will consist of waking up, breakfast, getting ready, and all the other tidbits of what one goes daily.

After Russia took over LJ, the format became less user-friendly, and many Russian bots ruined it for me.

WordPress is just not the same for some reason; hence, why I rarely use it. The old days of LJ are superior to every other social media. Perhaps that is why I like IG stories so much. So, that way I still get my “Day in the Life” fix somehow even though

Life During the Pandemic

A year ago, I was exploring the Rocky Mountains National Park with my family. My favorite roommate of three years was about to move out. I felt anxious about beginning graduate school that fall. Meanwhile, I was nursing a sickly recently-adopted cat with the knowledge that she may die anytime soon.

Fast-forwarding to today, my life is different in many unexpected ways. I just finished my third semester in graduate school with an INC for one course. I have been in a relationship since last December. I decided to break the lease with my new roommate because it was really toxic, and I was done with him. I had a cancer scare last fall before meeting my boyfriend. The cat I adopted a year ago is still alive and well. She does have bouts of sneezing from time to time; however, I am thankful that I don’t have to clean up strands of snot daily anymore.

I am astonished by how life can change quickly, and gratefully, for the best this time. If I hadn’t impulsively added my boyfriend on IG when a friend suggested that I checked him out, I would have still been trapped in Santa Fe with my misogynistic, ableist roommate during the pandemic. The person who replaced me texted me a day before he moved in with, “Can you tell me why you moved out?” We talked briefly, and it turned out that that roommate was already creating a series of problems for the new roommate who replaced me. He already signed the lease, so it was too late. I was relieved that it was not just me. I do hope that it is working out between them. However, I broke the lease for a myriad of reasons, so I am not investing time nor energy in their problems. I am wondering how they have done so far during the pandemic, though.

Speaking of the pandemic, 2020 is a chaotic year. Easily the most chaotic year I have ever had.  As an educator, I am in a difficult spot. Honestly, I know staying home is not ideal for children. They need to go to school and receive their education, which involves academics and non-academics. The non-academics consist of social and emotional development. I can teach my students how to read and write; however, they also need peer interaction to gain the navigation of social skills. Being an adult, I can’t provide them this life experience. So, if schools belligerently open their campuses this fall, the death toll will sharply rise with the deaths of students and staff. Why can’t we just take the option that reduces the risks of acquiring and dying from COVID-19? We should not prioritize the economy over human lives.

2020 is just ridiculous, but again, it had been that way since 2016 when Trump won the election. America was already severely flawed before, but now those flaws are glaringly obvious.

Morally Exhausted

Is there a word that describes being in a state of moral exhaustion?

If so, I haven’t found it. Please let me know if you do.

A month ago, I decided to deactivate my Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter accounts. I also left a group consisting of thirty people on Google Hangout. In hindsight, life was overwhelming me. I bit off more than what I thought I can handle this spring. I am the director for the spring play, An Evening With Edgar Allan Poe. I have a 35+ pages dossier to complete before receiving my teaching certification. I recently got accepted to graduate school, so I am expected to complete the paperwork soon. On top of everything I just mentioned, I am a teacher, which comes with its set of duties.

I made a decision for a plethora of reasons that inevitably led me to hurt a friend I dearly care. I know my reasons for doing what I did. I understand her anger and possibly resentment toward me. I am not her, and she is not me. She doesn’t know what I go through and vice versa. So far what I see, we are still friends. I am transparent with her as much as I can. It does feel as if I am racing to the execution row though.

“You are smart. Smarter than me sometimes. Why will you do that?” She asked me.

After leaving the restaurant, I thought to myself, “Why can’t I make mistakes? I made only one horrible mistake in the last five years.”  I came to the conclusion that I am morally exhausted. I am tired of being held to the highest standards all the time. I have to carefully tread a thousand of lines every day, and not slipping up in a long time is a feat.

When I got home, I googled, “Morally exhausted.” Instead, I found, “morally bankrupt.” Several sources define it as a lack of morals and sets that individuals practice at the expense of the others. It doesn’t fit me. I care about others. It is just that sometimes I feel I am not living life to the fullest extent by tucking myself in a narrow box knowing that it’s better not to rock the boat.

Where are my life lessons though? When can I make mistakes and learn from them without hurting others? What kind of errors can I make that allow me to emotionally grow?

I have morals. I am just exhausted. I am morally exhausted.

Treading on the Road Less Taken.

A few weeks ago I made the decision to go ahead and giving women a dating chance.

As of right now I still identify as straight. I can only recall three actual female crushes throughout my life; meanwhile, the men I have had crushes on are innumerable. Impossible to count.

I decided to give Tinder another try because I got tired of being single. It is nice to be single, but I have been single nearly all my life. I have plenty of experiences with men, but it rarely goes well between me and them.  Do not get me wrong- I love men. Just that the older I get, their games exhaust me. I dislike playing games with people, and it seems as if it’s what they prefer. Not all men I have had dated are terrible though. Some are incredibly sweet and kind, but it didn’t work out between us. Some are just abhorrent. I went on four dates with a wonderful, sweet guy last year, and he ghosted on me primarily because he struggles with depression. I felt as if I was doing all the work in the end, and I told him to text me if he wants to do something. He said he would, but he didn’t.

I always attract guys already in relationships with the others. I don’t know why. I don’t even want to date them, but they are often on me like a flea on a dog. A friend attempted to cheat on his girlfriend, also my friend, with me last summer. He is not the first guy, and he will probably not be the last guy. The odd thing is that I don’t attract single guys. Why do I often attract guys already taken? It will probably always be a mystery. 

Speaking of women, the first time I had a crush on a woman was at Gallaudet. It was intense and indeed a confusing time for me. I told a friend about that, and she was like, “Oh, every body has a crush on her. You are not the only one.” Ouch. I was morbidly obese and socially awkward, and she was popular. She is somebody one would consider Elite Deaf at Gallaudet. Deaf family, Deaf school, and in a top-dog Deaf sorority. I didn’t act on my attraction because I knew I was a loser. I didn’t even want myself back then. Why would anybody have wanted me if I didn’t find myself attractive? My personality was not endearing either. I guess I either had a crush on her or I wanted to be like her. I still can’t tell. 

My life changed after the stint in Romania. I lost nearly 100 lbs. I focused on my inner demons. My social skills improved. I was able to maintain healthy friendships. I learned how to recognize toxicity within myself and the others. From there, I developed confidence and was actually in a 6-months relationship. That relationship was abusive. I settled down for him because I was determined to prove myself that I can make a dating relationship work. I assumed I was commitment phobic, but nope, I was not. I am just wary of people. My ex destroyed me in many ways that I cannot verbally describe. Why do guys with dangerous issues always go for me? Am I meant to be abused all my life just like my mother repeatedly told me when I was a child? 

One of my biggest struggles with the Deaf community for many years is that even though they are diverse, they seek to be homogenous. They target and attack people different from them. Peer pressure is what many of them thrive on. For some unknown reason, many people in the Deaf LGBT community had a tendency to target me by bullying me into coming out even when I was still figuring out my relationships with men, not women. Those LGBT bullies are a major factor in why I had never explored my relations with women. I focused on my inner demons, which had nothing to do with sexuality. I wanted to alleviate my depression and PTSD. I didn’t have time to look at women. 

When I moved to New Mexico, I developed strong feelings for my male roommate who didn’t reciprocate. He was enamored with one woman already in a relationship with another woman. He even mentioned one time that he prefers blondes. I am certainly not a blonde, and if I dye my hair, I will look like a disaster. I don’t want to change my hair color for somebody. He moved to Colorado, and I heard that he is dating his current roommate, a blonde. I will probably always view him as a trustworthy friend, but I know I am not his type. Maybe I am not meant to be in a relationship ever at all. 

I developed a crush on a female friend the summer after my male roommate moved out. I was a bit confused because I had never developed a crush on a FEMALE friend. I stalked her Facebook just like I will do with the guys I like. She was already in a committed relationship. Not only that, a friend casually mentioned to me that many people regardless of their genders and sexuality have a tendency to be attracted to her. Ok, all right. Maybe it doesn’t mean any thing about my sexuality. 

The only female celebrity crush I ever had was Ruby Rose from the Orange is the New Black TV show. Once again many straight women had an infatuation with her. Ok, I guess I am one of those straight women who will go for her. 

My crush on that female friend ended shortly afterwards. I don’t believe in maintaining feelings for people already taken. It is not my style.

A year passed with several men in between. Last August, I met a new female co-worker. I was instantly attracted to her. In a way, my crush on her was overwhelming. I was utterly confused! To add to the circumstances, her partner looks like me. It was creepy. I found myself stuttering. I said a lot of stuff that made me cringe afterward. Like why? Why did I have that need to show off? I immediately stayed away from her. I guess she made me realize that I am attracted to women in a way. The weird thing that I am less attracted to her now because she has nasty body odor.

On Tinder I decided to give both genders a try. I didn’t mind finding new friends regardless of their genders. Well, one woman and I are hitting it off, and it feels natural. I am a bit nervous because I don’t know how to navigate this. I don’t want to hurt anybody, including myself.

Maybe she is interested into me as a friend and vice versa. I don’t really know. I might meet up with her this weekend for the first time and see how it goes.

Life is short. Why not give it a chance and see how it goes? I will learn something about myself by then.


An Intriguing Day

This morning I woke up to the news of a family friend’s passing away. He had hernia surgery last month, and when he was supposed to rest, he got too restless and mowed the lawn. Meanwhile, his lungs blew out, and he slipped into a three-week coma. He supposedly woke up and passed away shortly after.

He was one of the familiar faces in the deaf community I grew up. He always said hello to me. I suppose it never occurred to me that he will pass away one day. I did have thoughts that his health will decline due to his weight. My biological mother will have hernia surgery in September, and she is in tears over it. In the last month, she received news of possibly having cancer before finding out about her bladder infection and the hernia. She didn’t react well. Ever since she found out about her poor health,  she had been sending me “I love you” messages on a weekly basis. It took her nearly 30 years to finally realize that she is not immortal, and now she finally told me that many times in a relatively short period?

An hour before noon I joked to my roommates that we should go as the Sanderson Sisters for the Halloween party.

At noon my roommates and I agreed to have the first official roommate meeting at 3 PM to settle the ground rules around the house. A roommate and I discussed Labor Day weekend plans, which may involve the chances of camping. I somehow piped up about a neat hotel in Taos, New Mexico.

This particular hotel consists of vintage trailers and is near a brewery that serves local beer of high quality.  I mentioned that it would be nice to have a roommate getaway. The other roommate suggested that she will like us to go there for her birthday celebration. The next thing I knew is that we decided to agree on staying there for two nights in November. I have had been wanting to stay a night there for months after developing a slight obsession when I found out. We reserved a trailer soon after. Some other friends seem to be interested in joining us. I am thrilled!

We decorated the living room and foyer with Halloween decorations afterward.

A few hours later, we went to the Teahouse, a favorite local restaurant worthy of the title.

We agreed on the ground rules. We discussed a bit about the Halloween party and decided that we will go as the Sanderson Sisters. One roommate mentioned that she wouldn’t mind watching Hocus Pocus tonight. The plans of drinking wine while watching the movie brewed right there.

We stopped by a local burger place to grab shakes and food. I got shoestring fries with jalapenos and a ginger lemonade that doesn’t taste gingery at all. A roommate got a cheeseburger, shoestring fries, and a salted caramel shake.

After that, we went home. I read a book; meanwhile, the other roommates chilled and did what they need to do. A close friend messaged me informing me that she just got engaged today. We talked about the proposal a bit.

Lastly, I went downstairs to watch the Hocus Pocus movie while drinking wine, and clearly, I got buzzed. Let me tell you– the film is perfect. The writers who conjured up the plot were geniuses. My roommates and I sang the “I Put a Spell on You” song.

Near the end of the movie, my sister texted me. I didn’t even know she texted me when I randomly checked my phone only to discover that her text came a minute ago. She informed me that her sister-in-law and her family along with my aunt and her daughters, coincidentally not related to each other, were at War Memorial when a panic broke out. My high school and their rival team played there, and a man shouted that he has a gun. People freaked out, kids were lost, cell phones were not working, and trampling occurred. They thought the sounds of people banging on the doors to get out of the stadium were actual gunshots. My family was OK.

The movie finished. I told my roommates what happened. We had a brief discussion about how violence is integrated into the society. Then somehow we decided to talk about the Hocus Pocus movie and discussing the Halloween party. We decided that we will practice on the weekends to give a short performance of the “I Put a Spell On You” song to our visitors before announcing the winner who wins the Best Halloween Costume contest.

I don’t know how to describe my day.

Oh, by the way, I will be Winifred. 🙂

Significant Life Changes

Today has been rather intriguing. I received news from three people regarding significant changes in their lives. One’s health has been steadily declining to the point where he may lose his eye in 48 hours if not properly taken care of. The second one immediately became blind overnight and moved to a nursing home. The third person just decided to divorce his husband and could be possibly getting a new job in another state.

This August will mark the beginning of my fourth year in New Mexico. I have three classes and two state exams left to complete by May 2019, and if I don’t receive credentials meanwhile; I will lose my job and may have to pick up my life and move again. To be honest with you, it is not something I want to do. I deeply love New Mexico.

However, life may change. I will have to make my decisions from there.

I am still single. In general, dating is very frustrating. I don’t think I have yet to understand how it works. For instance, one cute guy kept liking my Instagram posts that solely consists of selfies. I clicked like on his IG. He immediately did so. I did it once again. He did it again. Then I did it. From there, he stopped liking my posts. I could have sent him a message, but uh, I am baffled. I showed that I am interested, and he suddenly ghosted. I went on several promising dates with a wonderful guy last fall, and he ghosted on me

A tiny voice inside me asks, “Is something wrong with me?” People in relationships for many years say that it’s not awful to be single. It is not awful to be single; however, if it is not, then why are they in relationships? I want to share my life with somebody.

I don’t want to move to another deaf community for the sake of finding somebody, but again, where I live is not a hot commodity among deaf people. I can date hearing people, but it is too much work, really. I don’t use my voice to communicate with people. Hell, nearly nobody understands me whenever I attempt to use my voice. I rely upon and absolutely thrive in signed environments.

Lately, I have been positive about finding somebody, but today is one of those days I am just unsure about relationships. Maybe I am not meant to be in a relationship. Maybe I have to accept that I will be alone until I die, just like my father. It’s unfortunate because I work hard at being a decent human. I work hard at being my best, which is good, but at the same time, it seems detrimental. Guys complain that I am too intelligent. They complain that I speak up. They complain that I don’t look a specific way they prefer me to be. I am never good enough, I guess? Even though I am successful in life, and I try my best to be moral, but apparently, it’s too much or not enough for any guy I like.



Typical Capitalist Problems

I am going to be brutally honest with myself and my readers. In the last 3 years of, I have had racked up a large amount of debt. I don’t know how to save money. I really don’t. When I moved to New Mexico, I nearly had nothing; I got a credit card and used it for food and furniture. Then I got another credit card for traveling in Tokyo, which I promised myself that I will pay off, which I obviously didn’t. The debts increased; thus, my monthly bill payments followed. Last December I realized that if I don’t alleviate some of my debts by time I start paying off student loans a year later, I will be in deep trouble. Deep trouble, indeed. 

In a way, I am fortunate that I am not as bad as some people. A friend has 150K in student loans and she decided to enroll in a PhD program. She also had 20K in credit card debts, which she used the refunds from her student loans toward to pay them off. Having done research in the last few months, I’ve discovered that many Americans are just like my friend– continuing to pile up great amounts of debts. In other words, they are digging their own graves.

Using my friend as an example, she has family support. If she somehow loses her home and job, her family will take her in without hesitation. Now, as for my family, they will not hesitate to take me in; however, they will have specific conditions that I must adhere. Here is an example of the conditions I would have to adhere.

  1. You cannot go out on dates with men nor talk to them. 
  2. You have to eat like us, which means that your diet will consist of fast food on a daily basis. It doesn’t matter if we have diabetes and other health conditions, we will still eat unhealthy, and you must participate. 
  3. You must talk about God and the Bible all the time; however, your knowledge of the Bible cannot go beyond what we know, which are the basics. 
  4. You cannot show people of color respect. They mean nothing. 

So, in other words– if I screw up financially, I will have to go back to my family. Then I will have to live in the same hostile environment I had continually suffered for decades. Decades. My friends don’t have similar concerns- they know that if misfortunes strike them, they have a safety net. I don’t.

This year provides a perfect opportunity for me to clean up my debts before the student loan sharks go after me. I am very close to paying off one credit card. Hopefully, my medical debts will be paid off by time the sharks get a whiff of my blood.

I am going to pay off my debts in two years from now.