I Can't Believe It's Already December?

I always ask myself this, and I don't like that I ask myself this -- am I a hundred-year-old lady reminiscing on my last 100 years of life? but -- where did the time go?

Not sure why I am awake at 2:53am PST on a Monday morning, but perhaps it has something to do with still being jetlagged since returning from Japan (maybe the jetlag has a lot to do with these sleepless nights, actually). So, since I haven't logged in for a while, here I am! at 2:53am on a Monday morning! Monday!

And I came here to tell myself that, "I am going to do it."

I am going to write a book.

I've been wanting to write a children's book for 5 (6? 7?) years now, but for various reasons, I just can never complete a single story.

But this time I'm telling myself, "Screw it and just do it."

Will it be a well thought out story?

No. In my brain there are so many ideas... and in front of me, there will be so many pages to write, so many pages to make mistakes, and so many more pages to start over and write again. 

Will people enjoy it?

Maybe? Idk. I hope so. I need to understand that I won't be able to please everyone... but hopefully, I can please enough people to like it. So that one day, I can pay the bills with it. It's not my main priority for the writing of course, but I cannot deny it, it'll be nice. 

Can I potentially fail?

Absolutely. The only thing I'm sure of about this is that I will most definitely, 100%, no doubt about it, fail. The first few drafts will suck, but they'll get better.

Do I even know where to begin?

Not. A. Clue. At the moment anyway. But Google seems like a great place to start.

:)

Anyway, I was more excited about this 10 minutes ago. Someone just placed a ton of bricks on my eyelids and now, I'm feeling real sleepy.

So, goodnight internet.

On Failure

Hello again, dairy.

This post isn't going to be that deep, but a revolutionary thought came to my mind today as I was on the muni staring out the window, thinking about life.

Lately, I've been feeling a lot like a failure, maybe even a loser. It's April and I still haven't secured a full-time job. Looking for a job, applying for "said" job, and preparing & interviewing for the jobs are physically, mentally, and emotionally draining. It's exhausting. I'm so exhausted. To make this short, I haven't found the right fit. Either the role is something I realized I'm not interested in as I move along the interview process, the company culture/people and I don't vibe, or (and this happens often), I'm not qualified because I don't have enough experience. Being a creative writer trying to squeeze your way into the world of tech is so dang tough... on your self-esteem. Rejection sucks. So yeah, "failure" is something I feel imprinted on my soul lately.

When people asked me, "What have you been doing with your life?" I'd feel so small because I'd think, "Yeah, I don't know. Wtheck have I been doing with all this time?" 

Not working, that's for sure. I am a loser. I know it. A real-life modern loser who wake ups at 12pm  PDT on some days and doesn't change out of her pajamas on others. So yeah, I guess nothing of importance?

But it's not "nothing." I'm only starting to realize that. 

I've been writing articles for Tinycaravan, volunteering my copywriting/creative skills at Tarjimly, and freelancing with two clients to develop their brand and website content.

And you know what? I'm enjoying the hell out of life. If none of the above projects mattered, at least I'm having a lot of fun. I had this idea that if I wasn't working, I wasn't making use of my time. If I don't work more than 60+ hours a week, I'm not being productive. Why do I feel this way? I need to stop thinking that way.

Now, I'm starting to change my perspective. Or rather, grow from how I used to think.

In retrospect, living and loving my life is making wonderful use of my time. I shouldn't feel guilty about that. And I shouldn't feel like I'm wasting time when I ride my bike, rock climb, read at the park, meet up with friends, go out for a drink, eat, sleep-in, take a midday nap, or watch the waves crash at the beach. Even turning off my brain is necessary. Those are all things I enjoy doing. I'm fortunate to be able to enjoy it freely, in my own time. Why am I not appreciating these moments as they happen? These feelings are fleeting.

I'm succeeding at something and that’s, being happy. Some days are better than others, but I understand that’s just how it is. Life. My well-being is high on my priority list and I think I’m doing okay. I need to stop being so hard on myself for doing so. This roadblock in my professional career doesn't define me. It's taking a long time to figure out, but I'll get there (what even is considered a long time anyway?). 

Although that doesn't make the other feelings any less real — interviewing sucks, freelancing is stressful, I want the stability of a consistent income, and I wish I could do more (even though I feel like there is already so much on my plate of life) — but I'm able to make rent and pay the bills, so no, you're not a real-life modern loser, Jennifer. You're doing alright. It's going to be okay. You're going to be fine. Things will start to make sense. 

Eventually.

:)

On Nothing, But Maybe Everything (jk. idk)

Hello, my public online diary.

Yesterday was nice. I slept in, made breakfast, and went for a bike ride in the Sunset District. It was a beautiful and sunny day. I biked through the Golden Gate Park, then stopped by Green Apple Bookstore, the local bookstore in my neighborhood. Browsed the shelves for a few hours and found lots of used books I'm excited about -- lots of new ones that are now added to my "books I will someday read, but in the meantime, they look nice on my bookshelf" pile. 

Currently, my favorite author is Banana Yoshimoto. She's a Japanese author famous for her book, "Kitchen." I haven't read Kitchen and don't know too much about what the book is about; I'm currently reading "Amrita" and I love it. The overarching themes fall on death, family, and understanding how our pasts form our futures. It's just...Yoshimoto's way with words... how she draws you in with these seemly minute (but romantic) passages, then she surprises you with a line that is out of the ordinary and you're left wondering, "Wait. What just happened?" Or "Okay, that was a bit too abstract for me to understand and fully appreciate," but I want to understand and appreciate it. I want to appreciate all the words she strings together!!!! She's such a great storyteller and she takes you on quite an imaginative journey. I mostly like how she makes ordinary, everyday events innocent and intimate, maybe even special, much like the breeze that creeps through an open window on a sunny Sunday afternoon. 

Anyway, I found a used book of hers, piqued the cashier's attention, and we talked about Yoshimoto's books for a while (first human interaction in a long time!).

Just kidding. I see people. Sometimes. 

She suggested another Yoshimoto book of short stories titled, "Lizard," that I also found used and have already started to read. Ah, it's so good, dude. So good. 

I forgot what the point of this post was. I guess it's a diary so it's okay that nothing makes sense. I'm just spilling my thoughts but on a different medium. My hands always end up too tired, too uncomfortable, and hurting when I handwrite and so, I can never finish what I started. I'm a big baby, I know... but typing on here is nice. And honestly, this helps me be better at articulating my thoughts... and improve my writing (I hope). Okay, I am rambling again. 

Well, I guess the point is, I had a good weekend and that was nice. (Wow, I need to expand my vocabulary. Everything is just "nice.")

Alright, I'm done. I'm going to submit this and permanently upload on to the internet. At least when I'm long gone (due to death), these thoughts will remain in the Cloud.

The new cover of Amrita taken with bad lighting and edited pretty terribly

On the last two years

If there's one good thing about the internet knowing all there is to know about you, it's that it knows your login and password, then, will help you retrieve it. Thank god for Google I guess.

My last post was in 2017. A lot has happened since then. I left my job and home in Southern California to move to San Francisco. I still remember the date. February 24, 2018. No idea why it's ingrained in my head. I'm usually pretty terrible at remembering exact dates for anything. What was the date of my college graduation? The date of my first "big girl" job, post-graduation? 

Anyway, since then, a lot has happened. I fell in love with my new job, a new city, and the idea of being on my own again. I visited Cuernavaca, Cancun, Mexico City, and Teotihuacán in Mexico. Went on a backpacking trip in Denali, Alaska. Witnessed orcas and humpback whales breach over waters in Kenai Fjords. Went on several dates (I know, whaaaaat). Then remembered I'm terrible at dating - it's never them, it's me. I picked up cycling, trail running, and the very occasional climbing sessions. Life was so great. I was learning, doing, and exploring so much. I was peaking... until I peaked. And then...

And then... I lost my job sometime in October of 2018. Long story short. The company dissolved. The company laid off all of the two-hundred-and-something wonderful employees with nothing but the tears in our eyes. 

Except for a few people I saw over the course of the next few days (if you're reading this, thank you), I didn't tell anyone about it. Not even my closest friends. I told my family of course. It wasn't because I was embarrassed about it. It sucked, for sure. I was devastated. But these things happen right? I think I was just numb. It was how I dealt with most things. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to repeat the same story over and over again. I just put a foolish smile on my face and tried to look on the bright side. I'm the type of person who would gravitate to the more positive and optimistic thinking, but I soon learned that it wasn't what I need this time. 

I think I allowed myself to be sad about it for one day. 

Then I distracted myself with so many things for countless others. Hanging out with friends, eating (lots of eating), running, cycling, exploring the city, watching the surf at the beach, and reading. Also drinking. Lots of drinking. Maybe to further numb the pain? I really don't know. I was happy doing so. Is living just crossing off a big list of one happy distraction after another? 

---

One Sunday in December (I think it was December 09, 2018. I remember this one too.). I was walking home from watching a movie and having dinner with a friend when someone called me. It was my friend, Vivian. She called to tell me about her trip to Joshua Tree and we talked about that for a while. Then she asked me about my life and for some reason... I just cried. I'm not sure what prompted the tears but holy shit, it felt weird. I was sad. So sad about everything, but especially where I was in life. I cried for a long time. 

After we got off the phone, I laid in bed, turned on some sad tunes, and cried for a few more hours. I felt terrible inside but also, strangely relieved. Crying is so therapeutic after the fact isn't it? I finally admitted to myself that I was sad, really fucken sad, and just let that emotion consume me. It was strange. It was necessary. It felt so easy, so natural. I wasn't forcing positive thoughts into my head. I just let my feelings be. Oh man, those feelings were dark and scared and so unsure of themselves. They all needed a really long hug. 

That night I thought a lot about my self-worth. I put so much of what I value in myself in the work that I do. My job, my contribution to society, the impact I strive to create - all of that adds up to what I think of myself. What I did and who I was, are entwined. I really loved my last job. I truly believed we were creating something valuable. So, with a part of that gone, I had no idea who I was anymore. Then, the age-old question came up, What the fuck am I doing with my life?

I didn't know. And that devastated me. I couldn't move on. I didn't know how to move on. Did I even want to move on?? I knew I desperately needed to move forward.

Anyway, then came a whole month of self-doubting, self-loathing, and minimal motivation. 

I'm definitely in a better place now, but more on that in another post. This is getting quite long and I should get some sleep. 

Thank you for reading.

I do want to say, I'm so grateful for everyone who showed me that they cared about me during this strange time. You made me smile more than you could ever know. (I should tell you in person, too.)

And sorry for the abrupt stop. I'm really quite sleepy.