Life After College. . .

. . . pretty much sucks so far.

I’m working as a waitress at Chili’s.

My roommates are behaving like little children, one still unemployed from the end of school and the other already fired because he couldn’t get up and get to work on time.  Naturally, since I’m the only one employed, it falls to me to buy groceries for the apartment, even though my roommate who got fired eats about 75% of the food in the kitchen.

Our landlady is a. . . well, let’s just say she’s not my favorite person right now.  She’s refused to fix things that have been broken since we moved in at the beginning of June.  She also lost one of the rent checks we mailed her, and when my roommate tried to give her a post-dated check for the rent due on August 1st (in order to avoid hassle), she was dumb enough to try to deposit it in the middle of July, causing the check to bounce and fees on both sides.

The bright side is that it seems like things can only get better.


Back in Business

So. . . after about two or three months of my laptop being out of commission, it’s now all fixed and ready to go with a brand new hard drive and an update to Windows 7.  That said, I should have new posts coming soon.

Sorry for the long interval!

So it’s official as of this past Monday. . . I’m a graduate of Saint Peter’s College, with a Bachelor of the Arts in Communication and Asian Studies.

Now what do I do?

I’ve got several people asking me ever so sweetly to do things for free. . . and I’d love to help them out, but that’s not going to help me pay rent, especially when I’m living in one of the most expensive areas in the country–just across the Hudson River from Manhattan. 

Hudson Pride was thrilled when they saw the Multimedia project I put together for one of my classes, and asked me to volunteer some of my time to help their PR department. . . which I’ll probably do for the experience and another thing I can tack onto my resume. 

I also think I’ve managed to land an internship at Latina Magazine. . . which is interesting, considering how very, very white I am. . . but hey, according to my former Cuban roommate, I’m an honorary Cuban, so that’s gotta count for something right? 

As much as I’m looking forward to these projects, I still have bills to pay.  Wish me luck in the job market.  I think I’m going to need it. . . especially if I want to get a job in journalism or writing, as I’m hoping and planning to do.  Hopefully I won’t have to be a waitress for a couple of years, first. . .

PS:  I’d be eternally grateful if anybody could put in a word for me or point me in the right direction. . . I’m totally open to suggestions.

So. . . when I first saw this blog post from LivLuna, I wasn’t sure how to feel about something called “SlutWalk.” 

If I’m being totally honest, I have to admit that I have been known to call a girl or two “sluts”–without really knowing anything about them, other than how they were dressed.  I always knew it was wrong to judge others like that. . . but what can I say?  I’m opinionated. 

But after reading about SlutWalk and watching the video above, I can’t help but reevaluate my use of the words “slut” and “bitch.”  What they’re saying is true.  Using words like that does make it sound like it’s OK to judge women based on what clothes they wear or how much make-up they have on–and gives people a socially accepted way to discriminate and even abuse women. 

In some cases, the way a woman was dressed has even been used as a defense for rape, and THAT is the kind of stereotyping that SlutWalk is trying to fight against.

The New York Post may think that SlutWalks are “feminist folly” and “idiocy,” but as far as I’m concerned, it has really gotten me to reconsider what words like “slut” really mean.  I’m vowing to think a little more before I speak unkindly of others.

 And I plan to attend SlutWalk NYC on August 20, 2011!

Wanna join in?  RSVP to the Facebook Event.

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Yup, believe it or not, I actually study. . . sometimes.

I have only one huge paper (which should have been done about a month ago) and one final exam left to go until I’m finally done college! 

I haven’t been posting as regularly as I’d like, but I have a valid excuse!  Such as my Multimedia final project and my final video project for Broadcast!  Not too mention I sprained (or maybe broke?) my foot and have been limping from place to place with an ace bandage. 
I’m also desperately trying to find an apartment AND a job!  Looking into waitressing.  My study abroad  put me a little behind on the internship department, so job opportunities in media are looking pretty bleak at the moment, at least until I can get an internship or two under my belt.  We’ll see.  Suggestions anyone?  =/
Also trying to balance my family.  For some reason, my mom still reeeeally likes me after all these years of being a pain in her butt, and she wants me to come home.  She’s not too keen on my staying in Jersey City after graduation–but I gotta leave sooner or later, right?
So, stay tuned!  Two days until I’m done all my classes, another week to search for an apartment and a job before Commencement, and from there, I’ll let you know what happens.  Hopefully I’ll have more time to post; I have a few ideas on what to write next. . . (How to tell if you’re gay, adventures of a starving college graduate, etc.)
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Photo taken by my good friend Mio Tatebe.

Someone recently asked me about my “coming out” story.  I don’t talk about it much because. . . well. . . it’s just not that exciting.  Even my sister’s coming out story is more interesting than mine!

Hell, to be honest, I wasn’t even that nervous about coming out–except to my mom. 

I knew she’d still love me. . . but she had been asking me for years if I liked girls. . . and I always told her “No, I don’t think so” or “Nope, no girl fantasies for me.”

And it was true!  I had never had any interest girls. . . but I hadn’t had any interest in guys either.  Naturally, she was wondering. 

FINALLY, in May of my junior year of high school, it happened–my first real crush on a girl.  I knew I had to tell my mom the truth.

So that Saturday, my mom and I were in her Mustang and she was driving me to my lame part-time job at the public library.  About two minutes into the drive (it only took five to get to the library from home), I finally got up the courage to say something.



“I like Kim.”

“Like. . . what?”  She looked confused.

“I like Kim.  A lot.”  I tried to sound casual.

“Like. . . as a friend?  Or like you wanna date her?”

“I’m going out with her.”

“So. . . you’re gay?”  She put on her turn signal.

“I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?  You like girls, right?” 

“No.  I like Kim.  Beyond that, I don’t know.” 

“You picked now to tell me?” she asked, as we pulled up to the library and she put the parking break on.

“. . . . Yes?”

She gave me a look and shook her head. 

“I love you,” she said, and leaned over to give me a hug.  “Have a good day at work.”

“Love you, too!”  I hugged her and got out of the car. 

That was in 2006, and to this day, she still makes fun of me for coming out the day before Mother’s Day.

“What kind of a Mother’s Day present is that?!”

I’d like to thank my mom for raising me to be such a confident, well-adjusted kid.  I’m nothing compared to some of the other crazies at my college.  =P 

Pretty sure my mom must have one of those in her closet somewhere. . .
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So. . . while I was home visiting my family for Easter, my mom asked me this question:

If you found out that there was a drug you could take that would make you straight, would you take it?

I didn’t even hesitate to tell her “No.”

And she was surprised that I wouldn’t want to be straight if I could be.

Ever since I first realized that I was a lesbian and came out, it’s been such an integral part of my life.  While it’s far from being the only important factor in defining who I am, it is still a major part of who I consider myself to be and how I think about myself.  It has affected the decisions I’ve made, the way I have viewed the world, and the person I have become.   

To put it quite simply. . . I can no longer even imagine life as a straight woman.

I’m sure there are plenty of people who would just love to find a miracle “cure” for “the gay”–probably the same people who send their kids to “ex-gay camps” to turn them straight.   

For the same reason I’d never go to one of those camps or programs, I would never want to take a drug or hormone therapy to change my orientation.  There is nothing wrong with me the way I am, and I am perfectly happy being me. 

Pretty well adjusted for a gay kid, huh? 

“Baby, I was born this way.” —Lady Gaga


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