#given that he wasnt dealing with the fucked up job market we have right now. in which its dominated by very few companies.

[dunmeshiminimumwage]

back when i worked at [large chain coffee store], i tried to unionize my workplace. my manager sat me down and gave me a very guilt trip-y talk. lots of "but i thought we were a family :(" and "you don't *really* know what unionization does, do you?" i played dumb and managed to avoid being fired, but. chilchuck momence.

#mod chilchuck #i will say: i feel like chilchuck would be more adamant about forming a union given that he actually has done it #like. he has definitely received pushback for trying to form a union. even from other halflings (mickbell). #and i feel like he would know how to deal with it. #not to say that you didnt deal with your situation well. just that he had different priorities and wasnt at as much riskof losing his job(s) #given that he wasnt dealing with the fucked up job market we have right now. in which its dominated by very few companies. #diferent people are in different situations and sometimes you have to pick and choose you battles #which is why unionizing is so important. bc you dont always have to put yourself at risk to get better conditions #often times unions will have people who work the picket lines and lobbying etc. for better conditions. #working together makes us stronger. its not an individual's fight. its for all of us. #n e ways... that was long. #also. sorry for the late response to the ask. we (the blog) decided that it would be most fitting if i aswered this one. #and i was struggling to come up with a response. #(and having a severe episode of hypochondria) #dungeon meshi #chillchuck #laios #marcille #izutsumi

[ratsntophats]

Personal

I doubt anyone will read this. I doubt anyone will care. But at this point, i need to get this out of my system. Im not looking for pity points. Im not looking for someone to give me anything at all. I just wish things were easier.

This year fucking blows. I know i know, i always try to be the optimist. Open minded, life is what you make it, yadda yadda. But honestly, there is a darkness in me too, and sometimes i just have to embrace the inevitable. I can't always be bright. I cant always feel hope. Right now i feel buried in the ground with no understanding or motivation to get back up.

Lets piece this one thing at a time.

January. January was pretty cool. I was in love with a girl and a boy, taboo I know. But i thought i was happy. I thought WE were happy. But i guess i was wrong. I was naive. I only saw what i wanted to, i guess? Anyway. In January we all went to Colorado on vacation. It was relaxing, it was fun. We eat, we got high, we saw new places. We even scouted out where we might want to move in a few years, a school we might want to attend. At the time I wasn't totally sole on this plan. Moving halfway across the country is a big deal. But no means did i think this event would bring about an end to my false happiness, the love i thought was reciprocated, from the girl i dumbly wanted to marry.

February comes around. The break up. Out of the blue i get a text. "We need to talk". I was at work when this happened. My heart sunk. Without any warning, or prior talks, i knew. I knew she had given up, somehow. I tried to convince myself that i was overreacting. Of course this wasnt what she wanted to talk about. But i retreated into the office, haunted by fear, anxiety, doubt, and confusion. I cried my eyes out. My voice came hoarse on the walkie system when my coworker tried to find me. He tried ro console me, but i couldn't explain. How could i tell him that i was dating her? She didn't want anyone to know. The entire relationship it killed me inside. I wanted the world to know that this beautiful girl was my girlfriend but she wanted to hide. She was ashamed of me, i guess. Of us. How could i explain that i thought my "roommate", who worked at the same company nonetheleas, was breaking up with me?

After a long, painful shift i returned home. We waited. She wasnt home. We waited. It wae last midnight when she returned to "talk". She explained that she had to talk to someone else first. Someone else she had just met and barely knew. She made us wait, in utmost confusion, until the middle of the night, for HER to explain what this"talk" was about.

"I think we should break up." I couldn't handle it. In one of my weakest moments, heartbroken, I ran outside the apartment sobbing, wandering the streets alone, in my PJs. I don't know how long i wae gone. Eventually we came back. More things werw discussed. I wasn't fully there, not for a while. Even after, i wasnt myself for some time. I don't know how i let it hurt me this bad. But i truly loved her. My dumb self loved her and watched her hook up with the random guy i was never supposed to worry about. It was over. She was never proud of me, of us. For all i know it could have meant nothing to her. And now here i am, almost a year later, still thinking of that beautiful girl.

The awkward month continued. I, luckily, started a new job which kept me busy. I was so excited to make a difference. I felt so proud of my first salaried job.

I was proud. Until, fast forward to months, shit hits the fan. On April Fools day of all days I get on the wrong end of a dispute with one of my clients and am shoved head first into a god damned TV stand. I have never seen so much blood in my life. I was rushed off to the ER, and found that i had broken multiple bones in my nose and cheek, plus a huge gash where i landed. I spend the night in the hospital. The next day, i am cleared to rest at home.

2 weeks of recovery go by slowly. I get a lot of messages of concern and well wishes. I return to work briefly, only allowed to do light office work. Then, i take a month long hiatus to recover from a surgery that fixes my mess of a face and protects against potential future damage with titanium plates. I am now a cyborg.

The next few months flew by, filled with stress and me trying to overcome my trauma, having to see the client that hurt me every day, having to walk into the room where i was hurt. I saw a therapist for the break up and post accident combo. I was a mess. I felt true fear for the first time. I didnt understand it and i didn't know who i was or who i had become. I felt ugly and unwanted. But i pushed myself to go to work, i pushed myself to face my fears. My work life improved so much that i no longer had a home life. I even went to work in my dreams.

Months went on like this, saying goodbye to old coworkers and hello to new ones. I strived to become better, but the job was eating me alive. I no longer felt that overwhelming fear i once had. Instead, i started to feel less and less. I wasn't myself. In fact, i hadn't been myself for quite some time. My passion for the job faded, though my love for my clients will always remain.

November. The kicker. I continued to search for jobs to free myself and make my life my own again. I had several mediocre interviews. None of them felt right. Then, i happened upon a job i truly wanted. A guidance counseling gig. My field. I spoke alone with the school principal and actually enjoyed an interview. Honestly, this was the best interview I've ever encountered. I left the school in such a good mood, excited for my future, buying my colleague donuts and coffee on my way back to the office. Though i had to work late that night, it was one night i didnt mind.

Two days later, i received a voicemail early in the morning. "I'd like to extend an offer of employment to you." I returned the call immediately after my shift, an excitedly accepted my first school counseling job! One that i had been fighting for for 5 years! Trying to be respectful, i spoke to my supervisor shortly after and gave my two weeks notice. I thought i was doing the right thing. I felt terrible for making things difficult on my colleagues, but i wasn't about to turn down this opportunity. This was my time to shine.

November 13th. I was supposed to start November 13th. The principal had informed me that i would hear back from the charter school HR in a few days, that they would be sending me over paperwork with salary information and so on. A few days passed. Nothing. I called the school, the principal was unavailable. I was told they would have him return my call. I gave them some more time. Nothing. I called again, but this time i was met with confusion. "Mr. P no longer works here." Completely baffled, i asked for more information and was told the new administrator would contact me as soon as possible. What had happened? What the heck was going on? I tried to stay optimistic and gave them more time. Still nothing. Eventually i was able to get a hold of the new principal who explained his hands were tied. He was fully aware of my situation and haf passed along my information to HR multiple times. I just had to wait for them.

I waited. And waited. Spoke to the original recruiter that contacted me about the job several times. He didnt know anything. His boss would contact me, he said. So i waited. Finally i received a vague email of some HR personnel asking for a good time to speak over the phone. I was able to clarify that this was one of the people I had been waiting for! We set up a time to talk and i anxiously waited for her to call me with my new salary and details on my start date.

She called, but not about that. This was an interview. A what? A interview. I had to continue to interview for the position i had thought i had already accepted. There was some weird ass miscommunication going on. But i went with it. Once the call was over, i just cried. I had been waiting and waiting for someone to give me more information, and now they had left me with even more questions?

Later that week, i think, my timeline is fuzzy, i received another phone call for ANOTHER interview. I had to interview once again for the job i thought was mine. I went, hoping for the best, but my stomach in knots. Once there, i was told to fill out an application. ARE YOU SERIOUS??? i filled out thw stupid paper and was eventually ushered into the woman's office for the worst interview of my life. I'm not kidding. I had the best and worst interviews in my life within one month FOR THE SAME FLIPPING JOB. The lady stonewalled me for over an hour. Seriously. Question after question after question. I lost myself. I couldn't answer so many of her specifics and the silence of my not knowung was killing me. I wanted to die. To top it all off, she asked me why i left my previous job. Are you serious? I was honest. I told her that i had accepted ths job from the principal and was due to start. No comment, no apologies for communication. She didn't even bat an eye.

And then it was over. I left and returned home, a wreck, on November 13th, the same day i was supposed to start working at my "dream job". Two days later i saw the job posted again on indeed. It still haunts me to this day. I never heard from the stonewall lady, or any of HR, again. Who knows where Mr. P went.

And here i am, nearly a month later, jobless, essentially a hermit, drinking a bottle of wine in the shower before crawling into bed and sobbing. Okay, it was like a 1/4 of a bottle. But still. I'm a mess.

Ironically? I was offered another job. Im going to fill out paperwork tomorrow. But i dont want it. I don't trust it. I actually didn't officially accept it but i think theyre trying to get me by all means possible. A marketing job. The people feel nice, but it feels sketchy. How sad that the idea of a new job makes me break down into tears. How do i know its mine? Do i even want it? What do i want? I dont know anymore.

This became far longer than expected. Perhaps I'm overdue. I wonder what the future holds for me.

[bloojayoolie]

Alive, Being Alone, and Bad: Follow April 25 A MOTHER'S WORST FEAR The Door to Freedom.. The last thing I remember telling the police before they took me away was where Arabella's diapers were and how to take care of her. I felt confused scared and in shock at the thought of not being with my daughter all the time....having to uphold some ideal image of what a mother should be For those who don't know my story it probably feels like I just dropped a bomb on you so let's start at the very beginning... When I first found out I was pregnant the first emotion I remember feeling was anger At that time in my life I wasn't ready for a child. I was busy chasing guys, having sex, and working 11 hour 'dream job' shifts, and contemplating going to vet school. I thought I was 'connected and living the life but I wasn't. I was connected to a deeper drive. A drive to be good' at all costs...a drive to subscribe to what I thought on some level would award me love. You know? THE AMERICAN DREAM... Go to college get a degree build a family etc. None of it felt easy. It often felt like trying to swim against a strong current...the current being my heart. I subscribed to the american dream for a while and even now, as I look back, I wouldn't change the lessons I learned and how it inevitably led me to where I am today but before we get there back to the story.. When I got pregnant I was technically adult (26) but in many ways I was stll a child inside...I hadn't broken free from the constraints of expectations I had taken on from my parents and society. I was dead inside and using sex, work, social media, and food to cope with it. After I found out I was pregnant I considered abortion. Iremember my mom had told me she had one before yet something in me told me no. I wanted to go through with it even though I had no clue who I was or what I was doing. Time passed and my pregnancy didn't get any easier. Work was a struggle. I remember going to farmers markets selling dog treats at 30 weeks after my soul cat suddenly died in my arms. I was at an was shot. I felt alone more thanI ever had and relied heavily on my partner I time low. My self esteem to be there when he wasn't 'home' either I soon got a job as a secretary and found myself following the footsteps of my mother. She was a secretary when she was pregnant with me... Working for 'the man' while her dreams desires passions were put on hold to make a living to make a life for me. She wanted to give me the freedom she never had and the security that she never felt. Being the oldest female she became a mom before she was ready. She had to grow up before she was ready to help her mom who was crumbling as a mostly single mother of 5. I remember hearing stories about grandma lashing out in anger at all 5 kids and imagined that she must've felt trapped too..in this dynamic that has been going on for a LONG time. The cycle came here to break. If I knew what it would take to break this cycle I wouldn't have chosen the path I've walked. I would've told myself it would be too painful and wrong and yet my soul set everything up perfectly and whether I liked it or not. I had signed up for the death of the mother image whether I liked it or not. I chose my path. МОTHERHOOD... I've never been one to pretend to like something I don't and motherhood was one of those dislikes for me. The expectations of motherhood my brain downloaded for the sake of inclusion and connection (as a mother) fucking sucked. I bucked kicked and screamed at them the whole way. My anger was always bubbling beneath the surface ready to come out and react at every 'little" thing. Yet, thing is it WASNT little." It was never about the spilled milk, the poopy messes, or the loud toys. It was about how deprived of love, passion, and turn on I was. My cup was more than empty so the little things always came out BIG. didn't have the emotional bandwidth to deal with myself much less another human being. I remember it getting so bad that I ended up screaming in my Arabella's face when she was an infant because I felt sleep deprived and poweriess to what she needed. Her dad was asleep on the couch pretending to stay asleep because he had work. I felt utterly alone and enslaved to the needs of another human being. It was the perfect recipe for anger and resentment. aPSUa I was selling my soul for money and 'cookies' following the footsteps of a civilized American mom while my wild heart cried out in pain so deep that not even I could hear her. I had pushed her down so far that the only ways I knew how to deal with the grief of that separation at the time was reactivity sex and work. I felt trapped in a world I didn't want to live in. I felt enslaved to an image wanted to shatter. I wanted more for my life and Arabella and felt powerless to creating it especially under the belief that a mother MUST ALWAYS be with her children. I mean if that was true then I was fucked and so was she. When Arabella was about 1 I started going on Tinder. I felt a hunger rising in me. I wanted to feel wanted again and sex seemed like the next best thing. A quick and easy fix to patch over the gaping grief l couldn't bare to look at. After I started meeting quys for quick fucks it became clear how much I wanted to escape my reality as a mother. It became clear that I wanted to feel pleasure...that I wanted to feel ALIVE and even though sex seemed like the answer it wasn't. Time passed and I got bored with Tinder. I started focusing on my career and ended up meeting a guy at an intuitive arts fair. There was IMMEDIATE sexual chemistry. We started dating and my sex drive went through the roof. Not only was he better than the shotty tinder material he was well seasoned in his sexual ity. He gave me permission to express my sexuality in new and exciting ways that I had been longing for. I felt alive again and I attributed it to him. I spent as much time with him as possible and would have Baby sitters and family to watch Arabella just about every weekend. I was addicted to feeling alive thinking it came from HIM. I had no idea that he was pointing to something that I had long forgotten within me. I often felt wrong for having so much fun (without Arabella) when we were apart I never thought of her enough to text to see how she was. I felt guilty thinking that I should be like every other mom and sacrifice myself for her but deep down I knew that that wouldn't help me OR her. I started to see that the more I was happy the more she was happy. It was this fleeting happiness that had become dependent on whether or not I was with my bf or not. The less time I spent with him the more I went into feeling angry and powerless. I was relying on him to BE my source of pleasure. I still had no idea what it felt like to feel turned on in my own light. I spent a lot of time online sharing emotional videos of how motherhood was wearing on me. I eventually started talking about sex. I was having so much fun with my bf and my online followers that I made a sex group wherel encouraged us all to share sex stories in a safe space. As the posts trickled in a mom had mentioned how she rarely has sex because her kids are always around. Wanting to push the boundaries of society and not really thinking responded saying "Oh I've had sex in the same room hlla before I was bouncing on his cock while she was bouncing on his chest. as So of course, given that no context was shared around this statement, I started receiving messages telling me "you're going to rot in jail." This is still the hardest part of my story to share because of how shocking it is and how much it shuts people down and kicks their judgements into overdrive. The only thing that keeps me from NOT sharing it is my commitment to the bigger message behind all of this So context wise (if you're still coherently listening and curious)is: A was 2.5 at the time asleep in her bed next to mine. My bf and I woke up before her and started having sex and she woke up seeing me bouncing thinking I was playing so she started bouncing on her bed and came over to where we were I didn't want to shame her so I didn't just jump up and freak out. I allowed the situation to dissipate by focusing on the play aspect INSTEAD of the sexual. At the time I didn't know what the term sex positive meant.. All I knew was that I didn't want her to experience the sexual shame and shut down I experienced...that I didn't want her to feel a sense of 'wrong when it came sex And what gets twisted is that a sex positive approach is seen as grooming on INVOLVING children in sexual acts which is the direction CPS and the cops took my situation. My post was turned in a long with a picture of me and A in the bathtub where she was pouring water on my leg which was made to be perverted by a woman who had her chief of police husband and news reporter file a police report On the afternoon of August 1st I got a call from CPS and set up a visit with seize them. Later that night the police broke down my door with a warrant my electronics. They found a picture I had taken of A playing naked in a tub in my bfs backyard while he was sitting naked on the couch in the background. That was, as you can imagine, enough for the conservative county of Montgomery TX to take me in under the charge 'indecent exposure with a child At that point I was in pure shock. I couldn't feel a thing or smile for months and even though my story is dramatic my hope is that you don't get SO caught up in the drama that you miss the bittersweet beauty of the journey itself. Shock was the beginning of the mom image shattering for me....Resistance was the second. I didn't know how to let go so the first thing I went to to cope was work. (self development and hustling). I was determined to make everything right. I clung even more to the image of a 'good mom and what that would mean. Thoughts would run through my head like... What kind of mom doesn't have her shit together for her daughter? What kind of mom doesn't work and take care of everything? What kind of mom loses' her daughter? What kind of mom doesn't have a nice place and a school set up for her daughter? and whether I was aware of these thoughts or not they were driving me. The hard truth underneath it all was that I was grieving. I had been grieving most of my life. I thought I was grieving Arabella but through lots of retreats therapy tears and shifts I came to realize that what I was REALLY grieving was my heart (that Arabella so beautifully reflected back to me). I was grieving my dreams desires and passions that I had pushed down rejected and shamed. I was grieving my love. I had become so shut down afraid and walled off from the world that the big beautiful bold sensual radiant parts of me had become dormant. What first felt like a loss turned out to be the biggest miracle of my life. A miracle of love rising in in the 'impossible' Learning to dance through the biggest storm of my life was a miracle. To be as open loving and happy as I am now is a miracle (pain and beauty included). It was not easy to face my sexual shame, grief, and choices that led to an unfulfilled life. I was not easy to see that I was the one who created my life down to every last detail all the way from my childhood to now. The separation with Arabella being a huge part of that. And the joy and the sensual aliveness that has come from that (mess and all) is everything I've always wanted AND it is a path I would've never consciously chosen for myself. I have been reborn and as dramatic as my path has been I wouldn't change it for the world because know if I did I wouldn't be here speaking to it and delivering a message that has the power to create new worlds where women are free from the role of 'mother. If you're a mom still reading this I want to tell you something from my heart to yours from the depths of my soul to yours...as much as you may believe your role to be your children there is more love and purpose for you here. The world needs your light. I had no idea what the world was missing from me until started to come back to life laughing playing dreaming and creating. The color flooded back through the tears and the willingness to love again...I began to remember my innocence my DESIRE, my essence, and my wild heart that never burned out...my love that knows no bounds. Living my pleasure is the greatest gift I can possibly give myself and the children that choose me as their vessel to experience theirs. I'm traveling, dancing, and living in the city of my choice with incredible supportive friends. It seems like it wasn't that long ago when I was looking out through a glass wall wondering when it would be my turn to play and have fun. I sat on the sidelines pouting. I forgot who I was and that, with every cell of my being, I have the power to make my dreams come true. LOVE created the miracle that is now my life and when you say "But what about your daughter?" My response is this...she is not mine to claim. She is on her path and l am on mine. We are forever connected. I choose to trust that every decision I make simply because it feels good is a love letter I write not only to her but to every child woman and man on this planet One of the most brain dead, irresponsible “mothers” in existence. TD:LR in comments

#funny #lol #humor #memes #meme #memehumor #dank memes #funny pics #rolf #lmao #Alive #Being Alone #a

[janzz]

day 3: its 3:47am on day 4 and i forgot to write my daily post

really really really trying hard to make this a habit (just for april)

so fail but lol

here’s my post for today

i went to a yoga class tonight in santa clara and it was the yogi’s first time and she was so good omg!

not quite as good as my fave instructor of all time (the bae lauren at moxie yoga in sf)

but yeah kimberly at corepower santa clara square might make me a regular!

(which honestly is super great because i went to class with norma and it was awful LOL)  (she played like hardcore edm at a chill class??) (to be fair it was also a level 2 class and i was struggling a little and kimberly’s class was a level 1....)

(oh i went to whole foods in the same plaza right after and ngl im starting to really enjoy just physically being in those fancy ass supermarkets.  i went to a new to me nob hill after orangetheory surprisingly also in santa clara ----theyre just nice and clean and beautiful.  however spending $45 to get way less stuff than a 99 ranch or something still feels way wrong.  i got bananas cashew milk chia seed refill 18 brown eggs (anthony likes the brown ones idk) natural deodorant (cause native has been sucking hard) ginger tofu mushrooms orange juice fancy sprouted bread shredded cheese actually ok when i list that all out its a decent amount for whole foods.  the stuff is just smaller yknow like the presliced white mushrooms were $1 for easily like 3 or so oz less)

anyway i find this funny because when i started dating anthony in 2015 he would go to nob hill markets and always claim it was his favorite market (because the chicken he would buy from there would never go bad etc).  i thought he was like idk rich af -- to be fair he went to stanford 2x and has his masters and is 2 years older so yeah he is definitely more privileged than me.  like i didnt have a preference for cage free brown eggs like i never had the money to spend the extra $1 or 2 on that shit when i was slaving at starbucks AND a second office job.

its really weird how money changes your life.  its 2019 and i finally hit the 100k 6 figure mark.  it’s honestly been a STRUGGLE to get here, but i’ve learned a lot along the way -- primarily that you HAVE to negotiate and generally just get paid more to improve your life.  anyway yeah money doesn’t solve problems but it generally reduces  your mental calories and makes things way more convenient.

before when i was poorer, i would have to go out of my way to make sure i was getting the cheapest shell gasoline in the area (still gotta have standards and not give into that arco bullshit).  i would never go into whole foods or places like that because my dollar had to stretch further.  whenever i would go out with friends before i’d have to be SUPER mindful of what i ordered and i would be EXTRA annoyed when you go out in a group and when splitting venmo people wouldnt pay the extra gratuity and i’d factor in me covering it because as a barista and server its bs when ppl dont tip well

now -- idgaf if i go out to eat a lot or splurge when im out w friends.  dropping $50-$100 randomly cause something is on clearance at lululemon is not a big deal.  im not anal about my boyfriend and i splitting everything exactly 5050 down the middle cause meh whatever i dont need to be given money back for like the minimal difference.  if whole foods is convenient for me to go to after a workout ill go in without batting an eyelash.  

it is weird tho being poor and then having money -- like ill go to lululemon but absolutely CANNOT buy anything full price.  i still like watching movies but 99% of the time go on discount days cause spending $20 when i could spend $9 feels wrong.  whenever i do basic things with my boyfriend, like going to the grocery store or mall, i’m most definitely the most cost conscious -- checking against the value per oz, whereas he just picks whatever and gives no thoughts to it (i think he makes like 240k a year thereabouts, definitely more than double but i dont know the specifics).  i drive a 2015 toyota corolla le he drives a nicer but still affordable more luxury sedan hyundai sonata souped up with seat warmers navigation and he’s installed a dash cam and stuff.  my car is definitely a commuter car that’s just one level up from the s basic model.  when i htink about buying a new car i dont know if i could buy a lexus but yet i sometimes think about getting a tesla instead of a prius

another weird one is getting mad at myself for leaving reusable grocery bags LITERALLY in the trunk and then having to pay the $0.10 per bag.  I’ve easily spent at least $15 on bags prob.  Before i would be kicking myself hard cause i’d need to pinch pennies.  another thing that ive noticed makes me feel “rich” is i can sustain my craft coffee/boba habit just fine and not give a fuck.  before i got more mindful of it i htink my my coffee boba budget was like $100 a month.  ive always loved craft coffee, but it has to be RIGHT if i was gonna spend $6.  when i was living w my parents in san diego going to a new coffee shop and driving up to encinitas or whatever was like THE trip. now i get philz off my mobile app whenever i head out of class or if im feeling like it and its not that special

but yeah, im not rich by any means but it was huge to go from like $16 an hour at my office job/$15.70?? w/ benefits I think that was my starbucks shift supervisor rate/annual salaries of 20k ish to $39k at a law firm in downtown sac (grossly underpaid but at least rent was only $300 at a family friends) back to the law firm job up to $70k.  there i got a raise at the same job from 70 to 80k and then 80k to 86.

THEN cause i was privileged enough to have been able to save money making more when i hated my job i just up and quit (i think i had like no more than 5k in savings at the time --it wouldve been more but i spent 3k on prk/lasik).  anyway yeah i was lucky af and got a new job in a month -- and the offer for this job was 100k base, 10k bonus, some amount of stock (i still suck at this stuff) and a stupid amount of perks like $1000 gym reimbursement and basically free health insurance -- if i annualize all my pay+perks, assuming i get my full bonus, its prob like 120k.

so i have like 5x ed my income in 4 years since graduating from college.

the crazy part is people that were more privileged than me STARTED at 100k as new grads, including 401ks and what not.  im lucky becuase i started mine back when i was 18 at starbucks.

income inequality and access to knowledge/resources has become something ive become more aware about and passionate about over time.  me and my boyfriend clashed a lot earlier i think because we literally were in different planes of our lives and income levels.  we’ve been together 3 years, but have known each other for 4.  we broke up for 1 year in between -- and yeah ngl had i never improved myself or actually reached my income/earning potential we likely would not have gotten back together.  additionally him supporting me when we got back together raised me out of not the poverty level but yeah we met and i made 39k.  i took the plunge and moved out to sf for myself and lets be real for him too and made 70k which was a huge jump.  and in a short 15 months or so i jumped again to 100k base.

im never gonna make as much as he does (men/women blah we can get into that) but yeah even having access to money adjacently is so powerful.  anthony never outright gave me money and im too much of a hardass independent person that ive NEVER borrowed money from him, never intend to.  i really vehemently despise the idea of free loading but because of him just being around yeah my life has been improved.  

when we met in 2015 in our young 20s we were in our have fun phase.  i was too poor to have gone to thiings like coachella or out to a concert.  he got me into music and made it easy for me to experience because he’d buy the ticket, drinks, pick me up and pay for sf parking.  i would likely get dinner ahead of time or something small and generally we would switch so if he got tickets one time i’d get them next.  but he ALWAYS paid for drinks and lets be real the occasional not drinks :P he had introduced me to music in such a way that i was willing to drop $800 or so on coachella + car camping + take pto days even when we were broken up 10ish months or whatever it was the first time we dated but if you think about it he likely dropped at least 1k on me during those 10 months without batting an eye lash.  i made 39k at the time working in downtown sacramento and he made 90k base (maybe 115k total comp) living in SF.

despite just basic things like me being immature for 23 -- a big reason i think we broke up at the time was the income level inequality.  it was both our first jobs out of school (first job out of stanford grad for him, he immediately got his masters out of undergrad).  i did a round of uc davis, community, uc davis.  

he told me he was breaking up with me because when we met i had originally wanted to be a lawyer and then didnt end up pursuing that path and he saw it as a lack of ambition/drive.  what he didnt see was general growing up and not having access to lawyers as i grew up, just me working at this really top tier A+ law firm and feeling out of place as an asian woman working with rich WASPs.  me wearing pencil skirts and having major impostor syndrome.  what he did end up seeing was an insecure version of myself in our relationship with me bending over backwards to make him happy.

when i moved to sf and made 70k it definitely was a huge ego boost to make that additional 30k, but to be real, here in sf and paying more rent than i was in sac and SD/just general living being expensive 70k wasnt that much.  what it did for my confidence though was priceless (i was an ea to a ceo at a tech startup).  i really grew into myself and was more confident in my abilities -- and honestly a lot of that was just getting older and knowing that i was good at things, bad at certain things and i wasnt going through my quarterlife/post grad crisis anymore.  

then those raises to 80k and 86k made me more ballsy.  these things were obvi practiced with anthony as i had a partner to discuss and practice with/an educated thought partner.  at this time anthony was making $150k base or so (after realizing he had been grossly underpaid as a PM for the 90k initial salary)

all of this set me up to basically make my position what it is now AND for it to be 100k.  tbh im a glorified low level coordinator at a big company.  i honest to goodness for the first three months probably worked a total of 2ish hours a day? this role should probably max out at 90k.  and by max out i mean this role likely shouldve started at 75k with incremental raises to get to 90 in like 3 years.  i STARTED at 100 and can likely if i play my cards right be promoted to a program manager in a year (or less).  that’ll prob bump me to a base of 120 or so if i’m aggressive.

i always shitted on sf when i moved here because i hate the tech bros, the elitist ppl, the vcs who think theyre out here changing the world but seriously being surrounded by people that went to ivy leagues or the UC’s that were better than mine have honestly, like my boyfriend, just uplifted my status.  something as small as casual lunch time conversation being more intellectual makes a huge difference for me re: how stimulated i feel and how much more energized ive become because of ppl around me.  i def still have impostor syndrome all the time but its been so much growth from 23 to 27.

30s should be great because ill be well into my career by then and making even more and closing the gap even more w my boyfriend.  its funny too cause hes 29 now AND FINALLY getting that postgrad quarter life crisis.  his privilege was able to offset him to have this crisis later on in life where he made more money and could make smarter choices.  privilege really is the thing that keeps on giving and im grateful to have started poor and really appreciate it.  as i make more money i also care more and more to give back.  if i ever do run for office in my 50s or whatever im gonna push for more access to education and arts.  i had an interest in this as an undergrad but couldnt pursue it because itd be a lifetime of poverty, but yeah who knows.

dang this went long but it is really interesting when i think about money and how much its effected me.  im lucky i was able to raise myself out of the level my immigrant parents brought me and my sister to.  them moving out of the philippines was the best thing that ever happened to me.  the second is them fronting the bill for my university education.  the privilege i have is extremely special and important and i want to honor their sacrifices because im sitting on a 100k because of decades of hard work and frugality on their ends.

im fucking lucky.

we gotta pass on the resources and uplift those around us if we are fortunate.  

...another rant altogether but i wish the leadership in the United States thought the same way. 

(end: 4:36am, why do i do this to myself)