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fenris de la peña
11 April 2010 @ 12:58 am
I hate not being in school or not working.

When I have nothing to do, it's a quick and uncontrollable slide into a vicious depression.

I just - whatever. Just fucking whatever.

It's only about a week, then back to the grindstone. I think I may work myself into an early grave, because life is miserable otherwise. I like to flatter myself in moments of extremism and think this particular habit is the mark of crazy geniuses. Allow me that small hubris; I have little otherwise.
fenris de la peña
05 April 2010 @ 05:46 pm
The lesson the bluejay teaches is 'balance of power' - people who the bluejay chills with tend to be multi-talented, but a jack-of-all-trades/master-of-none type of multi-talented. The lesson the bluejay brings (amongst others) is to focus your time, energy, and productivity on one thing and gain a mastery of it.

I know he's gonna leave me. Not quite yet. Soon. Maybe when I pass finals. Maybe at Graduation. Maybe when I pass the NCLEX. Maybe when I start working. Maybe when I'm settled in my job. Maybe when I volunteer. Maybe when I pass NCLEX-RN. Maybe when I get my Masters and become a NP.

Whenever he's satisfied that I learned that lesson for real.

Almost a decade. He's been with me for almost a decade. It hurts, but with him leaving, others will come and teach me their lessons. When he leaves, then I know I'd have grown into that lesson - which is so important, it signifies a dedication to a path for life.

So - Thanks, I love you, I would have never made it without you, and I will miss you terribly.
fenris de la peña
23 February 2010 @ 06:08 pm
That is all.
fenris de la peña
12 February 2010 @ 07:01 pm
So I dropped $80 on make-up. I can't scrape foundation out of the old bottle anymore, I have no neutral (read: professional) eyeshadow or lipstick, and my setting powder is zilch. (Setting powder is ESSENTIAL to make sure my makeup doesn't rub off on my pure white scrubs :S)

The entire time I was shopping, all I could think was 'If I was a white girl, this would be a non-issue.'

See, when I go out into the Big Bad World, I gotta do a few things other than my job; I gotta be aware of some shit other than what I'm there to do. Thankfully, most of this awareness is on autopilot.

I gotta project a bigger, more crisply-professional 'me'. I gotta project a caricature of professionalism and 'I don't take shit' just to be seen as 'normal'. I have to leave behind quietness, demureness, innocence and self-deprecation.

In society, Asian Girl = Doormat.

I don't have the luxury of slouching. I don't have the leeway to speak in a softer voice. I don't have the choice of hitting the snooze button for another fifteen minutes and deciding to skip 'putting on my face' for the day. Going in without make-up, without the accoutrement of a professional, competent mask?

Social suicide.

I already know I'm going to have to work harder than some of my other classmates to be taken seriously. I already know I'll have to be on the lookout that people don't take my clinical duties right from under my nose. I already know I'll have to jump at every opportunity to speak up and be noticed by the professors. I already know that I have to act larger than life in order to negate the stereotype and bring everything down to neutral. I know that, in doing this, I'll piss off some people who expect people who look like me to act a certain way - but I'd rather annoy someone than let them walk all over me. Either way, I get screwed, but at least I've got some ammo to hit back with plan A.

So while a white girl might be able to come in without makeup and, as long as she doesn't look haggard, she'll be seen as normal-average-et cetera, me? I can't do that. The stereotype already says that my needs come second, my priority is everyone else, and I'm there to serve. I can't afford to give the impression that I think of myself that way, hence, I don't bother to take care of myself.

Without the backup of my black Dr. Martens, black clothes, visible tats, blue hair, black eyeshadow - I have very little to go on to solidify a first impression of 'I can stand up for myself, and I will.'

I already know I'll have to act more aggressive than I usually do in order to offset the scrubs. This upsets me. I like the way I roll with the alt backup - I can act goofy, I can be friendly, I can be sweet, I can be laid-back. Without the alt image, I have to tone down the cutesy and dial up the fierce way, way more than my own personality is comfortable with.

I'm very much a live-and-let-live, help-don't-hinder person. If someone fucks with me, I can fuck with them right back - but I'd rather go in on a good note. Who cares though, right? This place - this society - my own personality don't matter none. I have to adapt. Sink or swim.

Sometimes you gotta just play the game.
fenris de la peña
04 February 2010 @ 08:24 pm
I have just had a very bad day.

Right now? I. Don't. Care.

Everyone needs to fuck off.
fenris de la peña
03 February 2010 @ 10:29 pm
We live along a major street.

Block wall got tagged.

Cops caught them.

Cops take down our information.

Cop asks us if we're Thai.

*facepalm facepalm facepalm* 

Why is it always this fucking guessing game? 

I eagerly await a casual interaction with someone where they don't try to guess what I am, like some mutt. 

fenris de la peña
02 February 2010 @ 10:27 am
Decided on

'we are dogs unleashed
out of control
full of dreams
nobody knows'

wide-tipped sharpie straight on the wall. Then I remembered that sharpies are oil-based. Oops. Looks like I'll need primer for that one. :P

Mom wasn't too happy. "What are you, a teenager?"

"No." I says. "Just someone who thinks that there's enough texture on the wall as it is, but that blank space was driving me nuts."

She looks at me weird when I get to be all nitpicky artist-type.

I'm going to tackle the bathroom next. Just gonna get it all done, 'cause once school starts...well. I won't be doing jack shit with the house for a year. :P
fenris de la peña
01 February 2010 @ 09:27 pm
Okay, so much bigger bed + boredom = what the fuck.

I went and did it again. I don't know, I feel bad for bitching so fervently about having to get a new bed - it IS a really thoughtful and expensive gift. I guess I'm just on pins and needles right now about my Grandma, because she can be so very fucking critical that I forget to look at the good and focus on the bad. I'm gonna try not to do that anymore. I'll still bitch, because it keeps me from snapping, but I'll try to be more even-keeled.

Aaaanyway, found a platform bed for $80 (yes, mattress included tyvm), found black satin sheets on sale at Bed, Bath & Beyond for $10 ('cause I'm pimp like that), and used the leftover gift money for the following splurges:

1. Curtains from IKEA - the ones on sale. Hardware cost $2 each, curtains $5 per window, so that totals out to $14 for window dressings.
2. Sheepskin rug from IKEA - I don't know, I've always wanted one and I thought - you know what? Fuck it. I'mma get me a sheepskin rug. Now I'm very tempted to draw a smiley face on the headlike portion. I'm an asshole. $25
3. 1/4 gallon of paint from Home Depot. Bittersweet Chocolate (a medium-toned, darkish brown) by Glidden. 'Cause I'm cheap like that.

Total, including bed: $138. The bed she wanted to get me (brand new) was $170-ish and it looked like something found in a prison for young children. So I came in under budget and things are awesome.

For a while I entertained the idea of painting a mehndi design on the corners on either side of the brown accent wall. Then I laughed at myself.

Anyway, I just finished it up and I <3 it so. Finished it up meaning the beddings have been laundered, the carpet cleaned, decorations up, painting finished, closets and dresser organized, make-up stash paired down, et cetera. 

I have the strangest impulse to write the following lyrics on the wall:

'It's a riot
It's a riot
They say no
You are frantic
Don't you panic
Let it go

We are, we are, we are

In the cities
In the streets
Around the globe
They turn everything
You love into
From the cradle
To the great
Part of the show

We are, we are, we are
Radio Hysteria

I am fucking addicted to Darkside of the Sun on Tokio Hotel's Humanoid album. I know, I fail at life.

I am also extremely tired. :( I kind of want to paint the kitchen/dining room a cool, bright white, but I get the feeling my mom MIGHT kill me, so I'll just lay low on that for now. I really need to keep painting to a minimum. It's a rental, they want it back to that shit Navajo Beige when we leave, and to that I say, your taste sucks. At least bright white is workable. :P
fenris de la peña
01 February 2010 @ 12:30 am
I remember why I don't have jack fucking shit to do with modern paganism. Witchvox - for the unfamiliar - is an internet landmark for a good chunk of pagans.

Deconstructing the Article 'Thoughts on Modern Paganism, Part 1' - AKA Sporky McSnarkeyson Sporkface.

I am writing to address several issues that I have seen in modern paganism. To give you my credentials I am a 1st degree Gardnerian, 2nd degree Druid, and 1st degree Shaman. I am currently serving in Afghanistan.

Lolz. It's almost like paganism has become boyscouts - slash - seminary. Just spend enough time doing the step-by-steps and suddenly, you're accredited! There are world religion majors, history majors, sociologists and anthropologists.  Those fortes of knowledge can be accredited and can be tied into paganism. Spirituality, however, cannot be measured by a generally accepted standard and henceforth, cannot be accredited. If you want to talk the historical and social facts connected to neopaganism, by all means, list away! If you want to talk spirituality itself - AKA paganism itself - then I'll, you know, just laugh.

...started studying other religions in the 3rd grade, starting with Greek, moving on to Roman, then to Egyptian, Celtic, and have touched on Eastern European, Native American, Norse, and the various Asian religions.

Funny how Native American is just kind of a two-word catch-all. Buddy, you didn't study enough if you think your wording is even remotely appropriate - each tribe had their own different belief system, different pantheon, different traditions. Also, just, you know, interesting observation here - Greek, Roman, Celtic, and Norse are all named specifically. I guess 'Asian' and 'Eastern European' don't deserve that same respect. I mean, who cares, right? Hindu, Buddhism, Shinto - they're all the same squinty-eyed thing, innit? Fuck my life...

I started having night terrors by age 3 and by age 10 had learned lucid dreaming. By age 16 I was having genuine psychic experiences, including a case where a friend of mine agreed to let me “send” him a dream and write down what he dreamed in the morning. I wrote down what I was going to send before I went to bed and the next day we compared notes.

Aww, guys, lookie - he's trying to be legit! Not impressed. Anyone can say this shit. I can say this shit. Or, you know, you can go the route of my Grandma Mary and just do your thing without the verbal masturbation. She was a healer. I am entirely comfortable in saying that such a specific talent skipped me.

...I continued self-study until I found a teacher and earned my degrees.

Blah, blah, blah, lookit the size of my winkie, lookit it grow!

...Of course there are many more events in there that helped shape me but it would take far too long to go into detail now.

Well. Pantheon forbid. *checks the epic amount of text cut from the original*

(Some newbie shit about tools and materialism in the pagan community - yes, tools are nice, no, you don't need them, it's been five years since I've been into this and we're still hashing this out?)

The next thing I want to talk about is clothing. Clothes do not make the pagan. To be honest drawing attention to yourself with Gothic-style clothes, large pentacles and the like is at the very least a violation of the first law of magic: “To will, To Know, To Dare, and To Keep Silent”.

...um, right, so I do consider myself a pagan (although, honestly? I can't stand 99% of you people) and that's...not...the first law of magic I roll with. So I guess I'm allowed my gothy genderbending clothes all I want! 

Or there's this; some of us don't use paganism as the cornerstone of our ego. We are multifaceted individuals who, yes, are pagan - but we're also artistic, goth, punk, alt, or just have a strange taste in fashion.

Is your idea of talking about modern paganism really CLOTHES? I mean, there is community outreach, political activism, disaster relief, gender, orientation and race dynamics, technology blessings and banes, youth - and. we're. talking. about. clothes. OKAY!

I practice my faith here in ACU’s and have not once had a complaint from the God or Goddess that I am in wearing black, or velvet, or anything else. While I do believe in appropriate circumstances Sky Clad is the most appropriate dress that cannot always be the case. If Sky Clad is not appropriate then your nicest clothes should do. In some cases there are clothes that are appropriate for certain seasonal festivals, white for Beltane, but this is more of a guideline.

You're a bossy motha, aren't you? Myself, I consider one of the perks of paganism to not have to worry about the good ol' Sunday best, considering God and Goddess couldn't give a flying CRAP about what I wear, but hey, ymmv. 

The final thing I will talk about here is nature and man’s relation to it. Too often I see various pagans that never leave the city they were born in and even worse never go into the woods and experience anything. Get off the couch and get out.

YAY CLASSISM YAY CLASSISM YAY CLASSISM YAY CLASSISM YAY CLASSISM LET'S ISOLATE THE MARGINALIZED PAGAN EVEN MORE - motherfucker when people are relying on an unstable public transportation service, you really think? You really think? 

Women, go out and explore the various herbs and plant life. Men, go out hunting and fishing and learn the habits of what you hunt. Both genders then need to take the bounty of each other’s exploring and celebrate it.


I guess those terrifying salmon are too cognizant and mobile for my delicate wimmins sensibilities.

THIS is why I keep my head down and avoid involvement in the pagan community. It's because shit like this just flies on by, people feel more than welcome to say this, think this, and the thing is? Fine. Do it. But - BUT - don't get all pathetic when someone calls you on it.

Finally, I deal with this enough in daily life. My spirituality and religion should be a solace. That solace is NOT to be found in arenas where shit like this is paraded around without a second damn thought.
fenris de la peña
29 January 2010 @ 09:48 pm
You know what? This is just a reminder. To never, ever treat people like total crap and make them feel utterly insignificant for accepting my help.

Fuck. They're telling me stories about some thirty-year-old loser who never did anything with his life except drink and party. I was making almost $40,000/yr at the age of nineteen. At the age of twenty-two I am doing a career transition in a very competitive program without ANY prior experience attending college.

I am not a delinquent. I am not someone who just sat around and fucked with life until midlife crisis hit. I am an accomplished, competent fucking person. The fact that I need financial help doesn't negate that one way or another.

See, I think they help so they can feel good about themselves. Which is why they make it a point to act like I'm some fucking moron.

I don't understand it. I don't understand how people can *think* this way.

Yes, there were some people who did take advantage of my help. I don't let that happen.

Still, people who I did help and will help in the future? Will never, ever be made to feel like this from me. Never.

'Cause right now? At least if I whored myself, I would've had some modicum of control over it - I would've left it where it is when I walked away. This? I hear it every. single. day.

The attitude is like so; I helped you, so now I can tell you anything I want, I can say anything I want about you, to you, and you can't say anything, because you're a few hundred dollars in the hole with me.

Funny thing is, the only reason that is, is because of timing. That's it. In a little over a month, my PEL grant goes through and I can pay everyone back with a bit to spare. It's just timing - school starts in Feb, PEL grant comes in during March.

The government, screwed up as it is, is more pleasant to deal with than this shit. I get aid and I don't hear jack fucking shit in regard to aspirations about my character or my competency. 

Fuck this.

P.S. Get the fuck off of the TV, I want to watch Jericho. Because that TV? I also have dibs on it, too. For fuck's sake.

P.S.S No, I don't see the sense in tossing over a hundred dollars at a 'normal' bed when I have a futon that functions just as well. 

I don't give a fuck about 'keeping up with the Jones's'

Let me repeat.


If you really, honestly cared about me AS A PERSON - valued me for WHO I AM - you wouldn't be so fucking embarrassed that your granddaughter has a weird bed. No, I don't care what your sister or 'the family' thinks. It's my bed. It's my room. It's my bed, in my room, and I'm the one who lives in it. IT'S JUST A FUCKING BED OH MY GOD. I do NOT want to bother driving to fucking Alhambra to disassemble and lug a bed around and pay $120 for it. No. No. Not when I like what I have ffs.

Save that money. You want to get me a good birthday gift? Drop $15 at Borders and get me a copy of Total Oblivion: More or Less. Or the Means of Reproduction. Or that massive H.P. Lovecraft book. Or anything by Saramago or Matheson. Or a sbux giftcard. Hey, art supplies, maybe?  I can go on.

Instead, I'm dealing with this shit.

She'd rather have me sleep on a CHILD-SIZED FUCKING PIECE OF CRAP than what I have now, which a) works, b) is comfortable, and c) IS MY FUCKING BED.

I need to start school. Being at home is driving me fucking insane.