I'm nearing the end of my 30's which is extremely alarming. I have no true career, though I have been teaching for a while. I consider that my day job until I can accomplish greatness. I don't own my car (two more years), a house (I have an overpriced apartment blocks from Hollywood Blvd), or a decent couch (I have a hand-me-down that has passed from my uncle to my aunt and then to me. Sofa cover.) At least three months out of the year I live below the poverty line, counting up change in my jar to make gas money, and the other months I enjoy living pay check to pay check above the poverty line. I haven't been on a real vacation since 1997, though surgery in 2008 did seem like a break from my routine. I have no health insurance and I can't remember the last time I went to the dentist (when the year still ended in ninety something).
Dismal. I've tried mapping escape routes out of my bleak quality of life. I stopped praying years ago and I want to punch anyone who mentions "The Secret." In truth, my life could be much worse and I am seriously grateful for what I do have. It scares me to see homeless people because it reminds me of when I was at one time several years ago. That fear of returning to near rock bottom keeps me up at night. It's as if indigency is contagious and I shudder to think about the symptoms. Just a few mistakes or lapses in judgement and voila, you're sleeping in your car.
I'm an educated, thoughtful, intelligent person. Average human being. I have two jobs at the moment. How is it possible that I could struggle so much?
I ask myself this over and over. Let me know if you have any answers.
So, as I approach my 40's (I can't believe I just said that), I am filled with terror of having to live out the rest of my life in the same manner. I don't have the energy to do that. Every path I've tried to take to elevate myself has been a dead end. I keep trying, but I'm worried that I'm cursed or doomed or something.
My birthday is approaching in a month and I dread to think about it. I'm too embarrassed and depressed to celebrate it. And because of my hermit mentality, I have relinquished friendships. So, I would be alone, once again. Not too much to celebrate.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
Swarthy
So, I was out with some friends and we took pics of ourselves during the evening. When reviewing them, my friend laughed and said I looked "swarthy." I can, sometimes, if I'm not careful of my color selections and leather attire, look guido-esque. Overall, I suppose I had a rather ambiguous Mediterranean look in the pictures. All of us enjoyed a good laugh at my expense. Now, the tone seemed to be of a jocular one, seeing the comment (or rather the loud guffaw) came from my friend who is black.
Later, after the snickers died off (weeks later), I thought about what my friend that said. I interviewed for many restaurants for part time work in the area: vegan, vegetarian, French, Mexican, and Americana. I was hired by a Mediterranean restaurant. Didn't think much of it. Until I noticed I fit in rather well with the clientele. The other servers are fair, much more, uh hum, Nordic looking (insert Master Race). Except me. Was I part of affirmative action? Do I have the hairiest arms of all the servers?
I went home and looked up the word "swarthy." It just means someone of a darker complexion with darker features. Seems unoffensive. But, thinking back, what did my friend imply when she said "swarthy?" I am part Italian, German, and a piddle of other European crap. When I was young, I was mistaken as Latino, or more precisely, and rather unaffectionately called, Mexican. During summers when I lifeguarded, I tanned several shades darker until my eyes and teeth glowed white in contrast. I went to school with very white and very Asian people. There was little diversity. As I have gotten older, I have been assumed to be Persian or Armenian. It could be the beard. I grew a patchy growth three years ago and stopped getting hit on my gay men and high school girls. My beard attracts specific types of girls.....more to come on that one.
I've attracted girls who like the darker features of guys, but now I sense I'm heading into a politically sensitive area with my swarthiness. When I dry my hair in the morning, I wrap my hair up in a towel while I brush my teeth. Let's just say that I look more than just Mediterranean, I look Middle Eastern. So much so, that it calls into question whether my giggling friend, pointing at me and calling me "swarthy" because of my greasy, guido look or because of my similarity to people who live near the Arabian Sea and not the Mediterranean Sea. Was swarthiness a euphemism for Arab? Or was guido a euphemism for greasy WOP? Hmm.
Either way, I'm learning that I can blend in, in Beverly Hills, Glendale, East LA, Silverlake, and Venice. I like the mystery ethnicity can give a person. So, I'll enjoy serving up Muhammara and Koefte while I take notes on how much jewelery is appropriate to wear for a swarthy man.
Later, after the snickers died off (weeks later), I thought about what my friend that said. I interviewed for many restaurants for part time work in the area: vegan, vegetarian, French, Mexican, and Americana. I was hired by a Mediterranean restaurant. Didn't think much of it. Until I noticed I fit in rather well with the clientele. The other servers are fair, much more, uh hum, Nordic looking (insert Master Race). Except me. Was I part of affirmative action? Do I have the hairiest arms of all the servers?
I went home and looked up the word "swarthy." It just means someone of a darker complexion with darker features. Seems unoffensive. But, thinking back, what did my friend imply when she said "swarthy?" I am part Italian, German, and a piddle of other European crap. When I was young, I was mistaken as Latino, or more precisely, and rather unaffectionately called, Mexican. During summers when I lifeguarded, I tanned several shades darker until my eyes and teeth glowed white in contrast. I went to school with very white and very Asian people. There was little diversity. As I have gotten older, I have been assumed to be Persian or Armenian. It could be the beard. I grew a patchy growth three years ago and stopped getting hit on my gay men and high school girls. My beard attracts specific types of girls.....more to come on that one.
I've attracted girls who like the darker features of guys, but now I sense I'm heading into a politically sensitive area with my swarthiness. When I dry my hair in the morning, I wrap my hair up in a towel while I brush my teeth. Let's just say that I look more than just Mediterranean, I look Middle Eastern. So much so, that it calls into question whether my giggling friend, pointing at me and calling me "swarthy" because of my greasy, guido look or because of my similarity to people who live near the Arabian Sea and not the Mediterranean Sea. Was swarthiness a euphemism for Arab? Or was guido a euphemism for greasy WOP? Hmm.
Either way, I'm learning that I can blend in, in Beverly Hills, Glendale, East LA, Silverlake, and Venice. I like the mystery ethnicity can give a person. So, I'll enjoy serving up Muhammara and Koefte while I take notes on how much jewelery is appropriate to wear for a swarthy man.
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