You’re so f*cked up!


Hello Blog-Landia! I have not written in a while. I am quite aware. However, I have been doing a lot of writing outside of this blog. Mainly for theater, which is a very happy circumstance. Why? Well, because I also happen to Act. So writing for the stage has been quite the fun adventure for me. Also, I’ve discovered that I write funny. Not throw yourself on the ground funny (though I hope to someday), but like — Oh what a clever joke! kinda funny. ¬†I keep thinking about making a Shakespearean type of play one of these days, or a drama. But people usually laugh at my drama, so I think I’m meant to write funny. ūüôā My serious deep altercations end up sounding like a skit of Lucy and Ricky fighting over what to eat for breakfast. I try not to judge it.

Let’s go back a little, since I’ve been away for a while.

I don’t know about y’alls but 2016 was balls for me. Sure, I could look at all the wonderful positive things that happened — and don’t get me wrong, a lot of cool sh*t happened. BUT MAN!!!¬†The good people of the earth got a cold hard reality check with Cheetoh in the oval office. Huh? I hope his presence there will someday bring laughter and confusion to the children of the future. How could they have let that happen? Dear God, was this a joke? Yes, kids. It was. And you know – let me just summarize the rest of my recent political trauma. Let me¬†admit something: I have never had such a visceral experience in my life over politics, as I have had the last few months. I mean…it was bad. I think at one point during the month of November, I actually¬†started sneezing hearing the term “President” thrown about so carelessly. But we survived the end of the year…and now it’s 2017.



As my young millennial friends would type: -__-

One can only hope for the best.

I mean, it’s that time of the year when you get to re-invent yourself. Talk about your past mistakes and vow that you’ll never do them again. And if January 1st didn’t do it for you,¬†we just had the Chinese New Year a few days ago…so technically, there’s a second¬†chance¬†for you to¬†be hopeful for the future. Me? I just downed some Pork Fried Rice and had a philosophical conversation with my father about why Gay Marriage is a right. He’s a Christian pastor, so the talk was a little rough. But since we have love for each other, we shook hands like two proper gentlemen and said our goodnights.

Anyways, I’m back folks. And to be quite real —¬†there was¬†a part of me that was like…should I just delete this blog? I don’t write in it, God knows who the heck reads it, and so forth and blah blah blah. Pero, like, it’s my fault. I should have been more proactive about that.

For now, I’ll share the following wonderful event that happened to me today:

I went to my very first group therapy session! I won’t say what the therapy was for, but man on man did I learn a lot about¬†how dysfunctional the whole world is. And frankly, it made me feel better to know that there were a lot of us who had been triggered by this political circus. A lot of us who are…as Hollywood would say it,¬†¬†f*cked¬†up from the recent activities in our society. Yet, sharing and being real about what is happening in my life to a bunch of strangers was pretty awesome. And it was also very liberating to know I wasn’t the only screwed up person in the room. There are many of us. ūüėÄ

Anyway, I am trying to get rid of guilt that has me all discombobulated and what not. So I am here to say that I do not feel guilty for not writing on this blog. I do not feel guilty for growth and departure. Sometimes, we need to step away to regain ourselves. Absence does make the heart grow fonder, after all.

I have missed you, Reader. Whoever you are. I hope this bizarre entry brings you a little bit of joy, and a little bit of peace. And if someone ever tells you:¬†You’re so f*cked up — Reader, just know that deep down that person is also hurting with their own traumas and such. Release yourself from the ties of whatever is holding you down, and just do you. As for me, I’ll be doing¬†a whole lot of writing. My goal for 2017 is to submit a pilot to a studio and see where it takes me.

Because if it’s one thing I learned from therapy today, is that everyone suffers from something. Might as well try to¬†make some people laugh while they’re in their journeys. I will keep practicing funny within the drama. This¬†f*cked up person is the right lady¬†for the job!


The Laundromat


So my new place doesn’t have a washer and dryer on site, which is really annoying. I had to carry my¬†human sized laundry bag to my car (took like three breaks in between my stairs, the front yard, and the driveway), and then drove my lazy butt to the nearest laundromat today. An overpriced place with industrial sized dryers.

Is it just me, or does the laundromat always feels like you are entering your own private Twilight Zone?

So there I was, paying for parking like a good citizen, dragging my huge bag into the building, sweating like a purple pig (I was wearing a purple shirt), when I realize I have no quarters. I look over to the giant counter on the back of the laundromat and see an old man (he looked like what Kobe Bryant might look like in 40 years) chilling and reading a paper.

Interesting Person Post: The Old Man Behind the Counter
He must have broken hearts in his days. He had this smile about him that made you giggle instantly. Unfortunately, I had read on Yelp that someone was sexually harassed by a worker on this site, so my guard was up.

“Excuse me sir, do you have a change machine?” I asked.
“Where’s your bag?” He said as he looked over his lenses and his newspaper. I pointed to the huge bag by the washer, which was already tipping over from its own weight. We both leaned our heads to the side as it slowly fell ¬†over.

“To your left,” he said.

I put in $1 bills until I get to $10. The man must have thought I was a stripper because he kept giving me this squinty eye. So I walked back to my bag and started unloading.

At one point I looked over my shoulder and saw him staring at me intently. I pretended to look up at the television quickly, so as to not create an awkward moment with this complete stranger. I’m really awkward as it is.

After loading three machines full of my stuff, I see the man shuffle his way to me. I freeze in space. I thought, oh no…sexual harassment, sexual harassment! —as you can tell, Yelp has been both helpful with location finding and traumatizing with their comments/reports.

By the time all this is processing in my head the man is standing next to me.

“Follow me,” he says.

Where to?! I think to myself, a dark alley? A closet? The corner of the room? Oh no…no, I can’t handle this. You could be my grandpa!

“Excuse me?” I say.

And he moves his finger as if to say, Come hither, gesturing towards the vending machine. I walk over tentitively and decide to develop an androgynous swagger as I do. All the while thinking, oh God, please don’t let this weird but nice old man say something creepy to me.

“What do you want?” he says, and points to the vending machine.
What do I want?! I say in my head, Why? Why sir?! What do you want from me?!!!

“I’m not hungry.” I lie.
“Come on now, I just put in about $1 worth of quarters,” he smiles.
“No, no, I just had dinner.” I lied again, hoping he’ll drop it. I didn’t want to be in debt with a potential sexual harasser.

“Listen here,” he says, “just pick something. The money’s already inside. Besides, I can’t stand your chewing!”
“My what?” I say a bit confused.
“Well, I don’t mind the chewing really, but you’ve been popping that gum ever since you walked in here and it’s driving me crazy!”

: /

I smiled even bigger now. I grabbed my dried piece of gum and threw it in the trash.

“There you go sir, this is your work space and I don’t want to disturb it!” Maybe I said it a little too loudly because his eyebrows went up, but all I was really saying (the subtext) was: Oh, thank God you’re not a creeper, DAMN YOU YELP!

“Pick something, I don’t want you to take it personal now…”
“Kit-Kat!!” I say.

I watch the chocolate fall from it’s C1 location and stumble to the small door. He reaches down for it and hands it over to me.¬†“Thank you,” he says, and shuffles his way back to the counter and sits behind his paper.


The moral of the story is, don’t believe everything you read on the internet. ¬† ūüėČ