I wish.

I used to just wish I was a little bit taller (I wish I was a baller) but then life happened and I grew up and I got wise and mature and my hair grew, my boobs filled out and I still was not taller. So I moved on to wishing for things that might be more plausible. I wished for a college degree, a good job, great friends, a guy I could be cheesy and dorky with. Great shoes (with three inch hills that for a short time period, made me seem taller) and an ipod that played Michael Bolton, Boyz II Men, and the entire Dirty Dancing soundtrack. The problem is that shoes wear down, ipods run out of battery and need to be replaced, and a college degree will only get you so far.

So I'm always left wishing and wanting. Like most human beings, life is never enough. And today, I tried in vain to lure away my friend from her apartment, bf, job, and school in order to run away with me to wherever our credit cards could afford to take us. I say I tried in vain because I know that neither of us would ever leave our anything- we're not those kind of people. I'd never drop out of school (nor would she), we'd never leave our bfs (do you know how hard it is to find a good man?) and we'd never put ourselves in an unknown situation- where we're not sure how our bills are getting paid, when we'll have more money, and what we're eating for dinner.

So today, I don't wish I had new jeans or a new haircut (two things that have been on my mind lately) but today, I wish I was the kind of person who would go to Mexico/Italy/New Zealand on vacation, decide I loved it so much, and just stayed. Who didn't spend my life wishing I could live one way or the other, that just did. My bf is that kind of person- always reminding met hat I CAN go do x, y, and z if I want to, I just have to do it. It's hard for a person who thrives off stability and certainty to do things like that. But I've been wishing for 25 years (nearly 26) and it's time to run away to a brand new place where I'm happy enough to not want to run away. So this year will the be the year I run (not literally) to my happy place. I will be that girl that doesn't want to go somewhere but that does go somewhere. Whether it's a new city, a new job, or even a new country. Yes, no more wishing for me (unless it's for a new, magical way to make me a little bit taller, the Skeelo way).

The Unemployed Grad Student Life

Well, to be frank, it's a sad, boring life. My other grad school friends say I'm lucky and wish they didn't work. And sure, it has its perks- I sleep til whenever I want- though I try to wake up by ten. I have time to go to the gym and blast Kanye's workout song (I'm hoping to get me a baller man). I have bountiful hours in which I can complete my bountiful reading and not worry about staying up til 2 am getting through five chapters of econ.

But let's talk about the downsides of not working. And not just the fact that payday skips over me like Santa skips over the naughty kids, but the stuff everyone overlooks. Like the fact that since I don't work, I don't have coworkers. This curtails the amount of coworker happy hours- not that I could go to them anyways because all my classes are at night. And once I'm done with the gym, showered, and ready to go, everyone else is still at work. Because apparently, I'm one of the few that opted out of being responsible and took the unemployed route instead. My roommate works. My friends work.

So what human contact do I have until they're off work? Well, there used to be the Starbucks guy until I gave up Starbucks. The library clerk doesn't even look up when I walk into the building. And so I'm left with the pressing desire to actually go to class so that I can catch up with my classmates. This of course, is the 3 minutes before class starts and the 5 minutes we have reserved for a break. And if I have to use the restroom, that curtails my contact with society by at least another 3 minutes.

Of course, my friends have time to hang out when they're done with work. This would be my non-grad student friends. Only when they're getting off work, I'm heading to class. And my grad student friends go from work, to class. This essentially frees ALL of us up by 9pm at the earliest. Except for Tuesdays when a few of us are free by 7pm.

And thus Tuesdays at 7 becomes 'human contact' hour for me. But only once a month because we have study groups, papers, reading to do. So the other three weeks I'm waiting for the weekends or for my roommate to get home, who, btw, also works and goes to school. Then the weekends pour in. And you think, finally, I can have some fun. Wrong. Because despite the fact that you're unemployed, you still haven't finished studying for your midterm, writing your paper, or preparing your group presentation that are due Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of next week. And so you spend the entire weekend, confined in your room/library/cafe, chatting online with your other sad grad school friends, waiting for your Monday class so you can chat with someone other than your gchat friends and your sister that calls you daily.

Yes, I am asking shamelessly for pity. That or a few thousand dollars so I can repay my first year of grad school, drop out, and get a real job with a real life that permits me to once again, have some fun in my life.

Things I Miss

The fog rolling over the trees.

Silly kisses from special people.

Pork buns. Steamed, baked, any way you can make them.

Rushing, busy people with pink bags.

Days when 6 pm for me was 6pm for you.

Carne asada plates with red salsa (and a hint of green).

Barts/metros that wait for transfers.

Writing my name on a white board to wait for dry fried beef.

People of all races and sexes walking hand in hand.

Steep hills up the street, down the street, east, west.

Unfinished bridges linking east to west.

Three dollar mojitos.

Friends that are shorter than me but equally as cool.

The World According to Sister

Today I shared with my sister that I decided (just this weekend) to support Obama. her stunned silence was expected- I was well aware that she is a Hillary fan. What came out of her mouth next led me to question her judgement.

Sister: You are no longer my sister. I disown you.
Me: Huh?
Sister: A vote for Obama is a Vote for Oprah!
Me: hahahahah. Seriously? I really question your judgement sometimes (yea, I said it).

I had a few hours to laugh and let her statement linger... and laugh some more. And then she called me back a few minutes ago.

Sister: You know, Oprah is trying to take over the world.
Me: No she's not.
Sister: Yes she is, everything she has is called O. Her magazine, everything. You think it's a coincidence she supports O-bama?? She wants to take over the world... next thing you know it'll be the United States of Oprah.
Me: hahahahah. Really?
Sister: And she's using Obama to do it! (Pause) Are you listening?
Me: Oh, yea, I'm sorry, I was busy laughing.

And there you have The World According to Sister, who, though usually intelligent, has just solidified my arguement that I am the smarter sister.

The Kindness of Strangers

My friend was kind enough to give us her couch as she is inheriting one herself. We took the couch because a) we need another one and b) we don't really like the couch we have now. My female roommate and I have two male roommates- who somehow always tend to be gone or asleep whenever we need help carrying heavy things and so we're left to fend for ourselves.

After parking the beast of the van we had, we carried the couch from the basement parking lot of her building, to our van parked around the corner, and into the beast. Then we had to park again in front of our house. Needless to say we were having a difficult time parallel parking this 9+ foot animal. Our street is only wide enough to allow one car pass at a time so we were most definitely blocking traffic. A garbage truck was trying to to the other direction but they waited patiently as my roommate backed up, pulled forward, backed up, forward, back... And then the waste management personnel (i.e. trash men) hopped off the back of their ride and offered, with a big smile, to help us park the van. And they did so in seconds.

All I could think of in the meantime, while the man parked our van, was that my wallet lay in the middle console for anyone to take. I was actually nervous about this man stealing my wallet while I watched him park.

And then we took the couch out and lugged it out of the van and up the first few stairs to our door. Then we hit another few stairs and I pretty much gave up. My arms were tired, I was tired, and it was starting to sprinkle. And here comes kind stranger number two, a young Oaxaqueno man who offered to help us carry it in. With his help we were able to get our new sofa in the door in no time at all.

Then he came inside, had a class of water and chatted with us and all I thought was, hmmm... maybe he's staking out our place to see what he can steal.

I finally stopped, paused, and took a moment outside of my accusatory thoughts and realized how distrusting I've become. I automatically thought the worse in these strangers when really, they were showing their best. I felt momentarily ashamed that I'd been so judgemental. I'm not saying I should let my guard down, DC is a city with problems after all, but I think I learned my lesson. Sometimes a kind gesture is nothing more than that...

No More Tequila's.

I read a status update on Facebook yesterday that said she was desperately craving social activities that didn't surround alcohol. I could feel her frustration and definitely sympathize because I've been there on more than one occasion. It seems as though at our age everything we do surrounds drinking. Dinner... and wine. Sports.... and beer. Dancing... and shots. Movies.... and whiskey. I realize that last one might just be me but in general, you get the point.

My friends in DC can attest to two things- one that I am now a lightweight and two, that I hardly go out anymore. The reason being that as a lightweight, I can't handle crazy nights of drinking that make me useless the next day when I have so much to do/study. And 80 to 90% of what my friends do surrounds crazy nights of drinking.

Don't get me wrong- I still love a crazy night out. Bottles of champagne, whiskey filled drinks, and shots of Jagger still warm my heart (and my stomach and my head...).

But I'm always looking for something else. I found a few things that don't require drinking- like marathons and salsa dancing, but they're few and far between.

So for Lent, I'm toying with the idea of giving up alcohol. No, not just hard liquor like last time (that conveniently left me a loop hole that allowed me to drink beer), but all of it. I keep telling my bf it might be kind of hard- Lent falls during my first visit to the bay (and therefore my first visit to my friends- which usually involves copious amounts of drinks and bottles of wine), my spring break (which will be spent on the beautiful beaches of Oaxaca with my boyfriend and a rowdy bunch of spring breakers), and the occasional bday and dinner party.

Even more reason I should challenge myself and give up Jose, Jack, and John for Lent. It will be hard and I'm still not sure I can (or will) do it, but I think it might be more important for me to try and fail (or succeed!) than to not even give it a shot- the failure might lie in not trying at all. I have until Feb. 6th to decide and in the meantime, I'll think about it while I celebrate my last day of work over margaritas and nachos.

Pubs- or so I thought

As you may or may not know, I am on a quest to find a job in the microfinance industry. Or so I think today. Needless to say, that search led me to a great organization that I wanted to share with all of you. Kiva.org is a microlending institution that takes lending out of the hands of banks and into the hands of everyday common people like us. Now, I know what you are thinking, what IS microlending?

Microfinance institutions operate under the idea that most of the worlds poor people- if given the opportunity- could alleviate their own poverty through their entrepreneurial skills. These organizations, therefore, lend money to various groups of people all over the world- sometimes $50, sometimes $500- to populations that wouldn't otherwise have access to capital. Studies have found that the repayment rate for these types of loans is about 98%, far higher than the repayment rate of the average person (that would be you and I).

Back to Kiva. They allow you to pick a person or a group in any region and loan them money directly (well, through their website, you're not going to fly out to Zaire to give anyone money). I decided to loan $25 to this particular group of five women in Uganda. http://www.kiva.org/app.php?page=businesses&action=about&id=32644

I did that because their main activity read "Pub" and I thought it was awesome that they were opening a pub. Upon closer inspection, I don't actually think that's what they are doing but nonetheless, with a few clicks, I just donated $25 to five women in Uganda. I quickly and easily became a part of microfinance industry that works solely to alleviate poverty in the world. I have to admit, helping five women in Uganda run a business from my warm chair in DC is pretty amazing. Having just quit my job I'm not one to throw around money, but $25 is such a small effort on my part that I had to do it. I hope you find this as exciting as I do and lend out a bit of cash and become part of the microfinance movement that strives to end poverty.

On Being Mexican, Part II

My first trip to Mexico came and went and now, I'm sitting in front of my computer in 40 degree weather as though I never left for a vacation. The only visible sign of my trip is the tan I gained while climbing pyramids and sitting in zocolo's for hours on end. But of course, this trip was much more than just a vacation for me. Sure, I enjoyed lazy afternoons with cold beers, sleeping in curled up, and lots of great food, but to me, going to Mexico was about going home, rekindling old familial relationships, and figuring out where I came from.



My bf asked me if I was having some sort of huge epiphany and eye opening experiences while I was there. At first I thought I was. I thought I was realizing that I am indeed Mexican and that I "found myself" (whatever that means). But once I got home and thought about it some more, I realized that I'd been found this entire time. I was right to think I had lost my Mexican side. I did. I am American. Perhaps not born. But definitely raised. I have American values, American perspectives, and I love living in the States. What I was looking for- some sort of cultural identity- was in front of me my entire life and I just didn't see it.

But now everything seems clear to me. I am an American raised woman. What I did learn, however, is that there is no reason that I have to be this particular identity for the rest of my life. I thought the world of cultural identity was exclusive- you have to be one or the other. Yes, I am American but now I can start learning more about my culture, the people and traditions of Mexico, and the delicious food that makes up their culinary world. (I couldn't write a blog without mentioning Mexican food).

I promise myself to return to Mexico very soon. I will never lose sight of the fact that I am American but perhaps slowly I can learn what it means to be Mexican and learn to compliment my American self with the great values and traditions of the Mexican culture. There is no reason I have to be one or the other and I know that now.

The Outsider

I try to stay away from anything that I feel might come off as controversial. Mostly because I'm always afraid of upsetting someone for whatever reason. And so I've never written about the topic of drugs before but lately it's been at the forefront of my mind.

You always see those movies or daytime shows that portray the kid gone wrong, doing some sort of drug and always, always, being the outsider. Sometimes it's the outsider no one hangs out with and the one kid the parents want you to stay away from. Sometimes it's the 'cool' outsider that turns out to have a drug problem, making all the other kids realize he's not actually the cool one after all. We've all seen these after-school special type of movies/shows. We all know that real life isn't that black and white.

The reality of it is that the kid doing drugs isn't always the bad kid. My reality of it is that the kid doing drugs isn't the outsider either. More and more, I find that I'm the outsider for not doing drugs because as I'm told time and time again by everyone, everyone does drugs. Now this blog isn't about whether or not that's a good choice or who's better for doing (or not doing) anything. Lots of people say alcohol is a drug and we all know I drink plenty so I can't pass judgement. My boyfriend reminds me of that all the time.

But I keep getting put on the defense for not doing drugs. I'm forced to explain myself time and time again for opting out. And then I realized, I don't have to. I don't ask you why you choose to do drugs, I don't try to understand you, I don't drill you about your choices. There's no reason we need to understand each other. In fact, I don't understand you and you don't understand me. I'm ok with that because I feel that my friendships aren't about that.

I'm just tired of being put on the defensive about my choices. They're not wrong, they're not bad, they're just different. And by asking me what happened to me to make me not want to do drugs you're framing it as though I'm doing something wrong, as though I'm doing the 'outsider' thing.

My friend said she uses her top government job as her excuse so people won't give her grief about it. I told her I wish I had some easy excuse like that so I wouldn't have to explain myself. But I don't. So for the very last time, you want to know why I don't do drugs? Because I don't want to. It's really that simple. Sure, I can give you some story or some theory or some statistic, but when it comes down to it, I just don't want to. It's not because it's illegal (so stop implying that), it's not because of any reason, I just don't want to, the same way you do want to. We don't agree about what kinds of food to eat, what types of movies to watch, what kind of guys to date, and you don't ask me to justify those choices. So stop making me justify this one. Let's just agree to disagree.

To Do.

1. Put off paper. (check)

2. Write paper.

3. Get sleep. Must stop doing (1) and finish (2) to achieve.

4. Study for final. Must first stop (1), finish (2), and squeeze in (3).

5. Plan vacation to the motherland. Effective way of achieving (1). But instead, I blog.

6. Find new job. Must do (1)-(4) first.

7. Write Career Development Plan by Friday. Or else get locked out of Career Center. Effectively making (6) very hard to do.

8. STOP blogging. Delays (3) even further.

9. Learn how to effectively time manage. But I, judging from (1)-(8), don't have time to learn how to effectively time manage. And therein, my friends, lies my problem...