Perfect people? pff, what's that?

I met a guy, and when I asked him online the next day what he was doing, he replied in the most casual tone:
"I'm here in the computer with my cat, with the t.v. on, and without paying attention to what's on the screen. I know, bad habit."
He had bad habits. That was enough for me to know he was someone worth meeting.

Some days before, my friend Felix had asked me while we were walking in the aisles of the gold museum what my impression of him and our circle of friends was. I thought that I was unable to do so with my friends and was tempted to reply that I do not think about it, but when I came home and thought it over, I realized I do have a profile for every person.
I think about people and characters in a sort of non conventional way. I first list all the reasons why I could dislike them: bad habits, questionable behavior, interaction problems, quirks, etc. The second step would be enumerating all the reasons that I have for liking this person: energy, sparkling personality, cleverness. If the positive outshines the negative, who cares about their defects anymore? The greatest part of many people that I've known is that their positive assets are such that make the bad things about them even look attractive. Kids usually like impeccable characters like superman, who hasn't ever killed a bug. We critical adults prefer people with a little dirt in their nails.

A way of saying someone that I like him or her for me, as atypical as it sounds, could be like:
"You're loud, you rarely filter what you think and say whatever comes to your mind, you find way too many excuses for everything, but you know what? you have a beautiful smile, your sense of humor is terrific and you are good bringing people together." --That's an actual description I have for a friend of mine.

At the end, Felix should not care that much about my judgment. I probably listed the little things I might not cope with and took a look at the remaining goodness to shut them down. The outcome it's a little obvious: I unquestionably like this group of people. I assume they too have a list of the reasons of why they wouldn't like me, but I appreciate their efforts for doing the same that I do and putting the bad things behind.

Real people. That's what I think they are.

The deodorant analogy.

I ran out of deodorant by the end of the month, and I knew that meant trouble.
This might be a very atypical situation in most of the world, but in my house, the whole deodorant thing always prompts arguments and discussions. One could trace it back to the time when my dad managed all his money and we, the remaining members of the household, had to ask him for money to satisfy any need. I kind of got what I needed, but the bureaucratic nature of the process started this nonconformity in me that has not stopped until today. "Do I have to explain that much why I need a deodorant?" Well, then mom was in office and I was given a monthly salary and that fixed the problem of the begging for toiletries... for a while.

The scene moves to today. I've been asking for a deodorant for four days. This is not the first time this happens in the year.

I'm not a student anymore, so my salary was removed. I started working, but I haven't gotten my paycheck yet because my boss pays monthly. Wherever you see it, finances-wise, I'm screwed, and that's why I had to undergo the painful process of asking for everything again.

I could just wait until I get my deodorant and rest for the time being, but the reason why this whole deodorant issue gets under my skin is because of my mom's behavioral patters that this simple act of not buying that little thing reveal. This is not new for any kid: PARENTS DO NOT LISTEN! You can tell them what really matters for you, but your words will simply turn into something else in their minds and end up meaning something else, usually something unimportant. My mom does that. She goes shopping, buy the deodorants for the whole female population of my house (3/4 of the total members) and forgets mine! Then, since she's unable to admit that she's a terrible listener and that she had in mind what she thought I will need instead of my real petition, she will say a lot of reasons of why I don't need the deodorant just now. That's plainly absurd! "It's been only three days since you told me" Yeah, mom, only three days in which I've had to use my sister's, with the floral scent and all. And all of the sudden, I'm working, I should have money, and I spent too much in other things... And here's when I decide to swallow it and shut the fuck up. Right, mom, you can't do me this $4 one favor, I've got it.

I come down to this: it is the whole attitude behind the act what upsets me. My mom is such a great person, but when it comes to accept that it is her fault for not listening carefully to what I'm saying, she goes so irrational. It is the only moment when nothing makes sense, when she's confronted to a parent's responsibility that she did not meet. I've seen adults doing this over and over again. It is true, I'm the son here, but, as my friend Sage says, parents can't keep winning arguments just because they are the parents. I need a reason, a coherent explanation, not a bunch of excuses and a display of self-justification. Throwing me a history of care and love won't make it either. I need to trust my parents NOW and know that they are listening NOW. I love my mom, but these small things make me unable to rely on her blindly.

Five minutes ago, mom came by my room and gave me cash - which she previously denied she had, to go and buy the freaking deodorant. Trust, however, has been broken for three days already.

All these started with a deodorant.

Money does not write e-mails.

I remember growing up and being told by my older sister that I should stay away from teaching. She is a teacher herself, so I thought the warning had a reason to be. They worked a lot and earned a salary with which becoming rich is unthinkable. However, as the time passed and I began making my career choices, it only became clearer that I felt passionate about instructing, even with the little money that brings.
Try number 1, this is my father making me choose law school because he wanted a rich lawyer in the family. Result: total failure.
Try number 2, this is my best friend talking me into working in call centers. Result: I hated working there, hence, a failure.
Try number 3, this is me double thinking my decision of staying where I work and get a job that, although I would hate, would get me money to go to Europe. Result? Yet to see, but I think there's a well established trend.
When it comes to career choice, money has not brought me any happiness. I thought about leaving my class for a graveyard shift as an online poker dealer, but what refrains me from shifting is thinking how I am going to feel there. The significant wrong choices I've made in my life have started with me seeking for money over self gratification.

I know this, money does not tell me that I did a great job. Money does not tell me that coming to my classes is enjoyable. Money does not try to talk to me in the breaks just to find out what kind of person hides behind the mask of the teacher. Money cannot be interested in listening my opinion about issues going on in the world. Money does not necessarily give me a voice. Money does not make sure I'm ok.

Money does not write e-mails just because it seemed in class that I was a little down. Money does not buy this kind of gratification, that you're actually impacting some lives.

There's No Shame In Being Young.

- I'm concerned about your looks. I hope it works, but you... you just look so young.

That was the way in which my employer kind of closed the deal. She was not hiring me for any ad campaign or anything in which my age or looks should matter. I was being trusted with the instruction of 5 English groups at a language academy: I had the degree, I had side experience, but I was still a little too young.

Next day, I showed up at work for my first class, and right immediately I felt the killer gaze of my boss, the principal of the school. I rushed to my classroom, but the lady is fast and intercepted me before I could get away with my new infraction, whatever it was. She came to me with her patronizing tone and familiar proximity. I knew I was in trouble.
- The way you do your hair is pretty much as the young people in this institute do it. You should comb it down.
- Oh - I exclaimed shocked - but I'm pretty much their age, they know it anyway.
-Yes, but you should avoid at all costs letting them think that you're one of them.
- Oh, I WOULD let them KNOW I'm the teacher. You should not worry about it.
- It is a good idea if you cut your hair.
- Oh, but I...
- I insist. It IS a good idea.
Wait a second! Is being a young person a sort of infraction now? I went to my classroom and performed my activities as expected, but for some reason I was not so eager to come to work again on Friday. It had been a long time since my age or the fact that I look and dressed youthful was an issue.

Right, I have been living in a rational world in which any argument has a logical counterargument and in which talent was praised regardless of the appearance. It was not until I came to this job that I regained some perspective of reality and discovered that there are still plenty of old-fashioned, old-schooled people for whom keeping appearances is as important as the real deal.

I ended up cutting my hair a little, but I couldn't help feeling defeated. To strike back, I wore converse next class. The principal sat me down in her office and gave me the old speech she has given to all the professors - she even took pride on that fact. "Now you, as the other professors, are wearing your hair like a man." I listened respectfully, poker face activated, waiting for my turn to speak and bring down some of the ridiculous prejudices. "There's no shame in being young" I said. "My hair is going to grow again, and I don't want to look old. I know many talented people my age that look even a little bit eccentric. I hope in time you will see that decorum has little to do with a fixed appearance that society established long time ago and that respect is earned, not imposed."

I'm doing my best to prove this point. Wish me luck.
Spread some justified rebelliousness.

Learning to forget and learn again. 01. Icons and Lucky Charms.

This might become another series like "memories lost and found" section.

I was raised an Evangelical Christian, and as part of neglecting the world in the search of everlasting life, I was taught some dogmas that I have come to disbelieve over time. I had to forget and learn again everything about magic, fantasy,secular music, sex, homosexuality, smokers, adivination, among many others .This week, however, I remembered how prejudiced I was against people who needed religious icons and believed in lucky charms.
In radical Christianity, there is no place for luck since it displaces the hopes that should be only put on God. Under this premise, I was trained to despise lucky charms and talk people who put their faith on them out of their mistake. However, as I became skeptical and nearly atheist, I could value the significance that a charm has.
A Japanese girl that I met in 2008 carried her kamisama with her everywhere. That piece of wood with a kanji on it represented her background, her culture, a fragment of where she came from that she could carry with her everywhere. When the thing got lost, she almost panicked as if she had lost part of her soul as well. If you have ever read "The Earth's Children Saga" by Jean M. Auel, then you understand the anthropological importance of the charms and amulets. It's related to symbolism, and call it keepsake or charm, the meaning we give to something is never despicable or else a reason to earn damnation. It's the same with Icons. The Bible condemns idolatry in Exodus 20:3-5

"...You shall not make for yourself a graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth; you shall not bow down to them or serve them; for I the Lord your God am a jealous God..."

The problem is that, if we took the words too literally, as radical Muslims do, we wouldn't be able to reproduce any image... what a boring life. The overall message is, I think, being aware of diversions that lead you astray from God, call them whatever.

Japanese, Chinese, Costa Rican, whoever... I learned that we need to hold on to something to endure the crudeness of life at times. Clever leaders don't underestimate the value of symbolism and use it to bring people together. Sun Tzu wrote in his teachings, now a book called The Art of War, the importance of using blazons, flags,and drums during the war to remind the soldiers who are far behind and can't listen to the general the reason of why are they fighting and the fact that they are not alone.

I brought this up because in this limbo I am going trough, symbols have played an important role. When you feel like you're just on your own and that you don't have anything to hold on to, that's precisely when that charm proves being helpful. I feel like the wait until I leave to England is being way too long, but when I see the flag of the UK or the Big Ben, I think the wait is worth it. One of these days, I was feeling extremely lonely too, and while walking on a crowed street, I got my hand in my pocket and felt my keys. All the keyrings there, brought to me from far away countries, reminded me of the great friends I have that bothered in thinking on me when they were in their trips. It made me feel accompanied again; it was a symbol, something to hold on to.

Demand a Starbucks in Costa Rica??? WTF!

I'm trying to stay cool and not stop liking some of my contacts as they joined a group in Facebook called "Exige un starbucks en CR!!!" (demand a Starbucks in Costa Rica.) The description of the page in Spanish reads something like (my translation) "Starbucks opens a new store around the world every hour. It's about time to have our first Starbucks in Costa Rica." The reasons why the creation of this group results somewhat annoying for me are the following:

1-Many of my acquaintances that have joined the group have never been in a Starbucks!!! I have been in one. I like those 3/4 milk and sugar 1/4 coffee drinks, but it is not like I would demand (who, btw?) for a Starbucks here.
2- Costa Rica exports coffee to the world and it ranks among the best. It does not make any sense to me that some people would like to import a coffee shop with regular quality.
3- Since when did coffee shops became so popular among youngsters? I've been a socialite for three years now and I've seen the affluence of customers in coffee shops. I'm always about the youngest person there. Now, I know people who joined this group drink coffee, but they go to cheap places! I want to see them paying like $4 for a coffee that they usually get in $1.75. My guess is that the images of the Starbucks in every corner of the Big Apple - who does not want to imitate NY?, have gotten into these people minds until the point in which they have lost the sense of reality.

I'm not intimidated by American franchises. I'm a regular in Taco Bell and all, but we do not have real Mexican food anyways, so that's all right. But people around the world pay an absurd amount of money for our coffee and suddenly these kids are "demanding" -I can't get over the imperative nature of the statement, demanding Starbucks to come to Costa Rica.

Airheads.

Ain't no perfect picture lives

There are no Pleasantvilles on Earth. Ain't no perfect picture lives. And I'm writing this note with a bit of anger.

Today, I saw "Precious, inspired by a novel published by Sapphire." Normally, I would go for the technical aspects, you know: performance, setting, plot... This time, however, there was an instant of insight for me. If my life were to become a movie as raw and clear as "Precious," it wouldn't be less explicit. Dunno, I grew up caring a lot about appearances. When you're the son of a pastor, and the members of the church give you their love, support, and MONEY, you end up believing that you owe everybody an explanation of your acts and that the only way for you to be is that righteous person they idealized. But my life has not been a pretty picture life; my family has not been the epitome of perfection as the church or the mortals around seem to expect.

I just imagine the people who has idealized me and my family watching the movie of my life. Well, it was a disaster! I don't know why people think that being raised a Christian gives you the perfect morals to become this integral human. For me the whole Christian thing was very confusing and idyllic. And why is it that I have to be perfect for the people of the congregation? Wasn't this suppose to be MY life? I actually became quite the opposite of everything that I was taught. No vices mom said, but she meant smoking and drinking -which I do by the way, and not everything that is around that might distract you from your goal in life. The latter sounds like a more feasible definition of vices to me.
I still seem to have spectators since I still live in my mom's house. "Do not tell people about those irrational thoughts you have been having lately" It's called being agnostic, mom. It's called thinking differently and nobody out there should care or make faces at you and me just because they think they buy my good behavior with the money of their offerings.
When I first wrote this entry, I included some scenes of my life, but due to the crudeness of them and the unfair exposition of the negative traits of my family, I decided to go on and just make a point. There are no perfect picture lives. Mine isn't either. I wish people expected all the negative from me so that I can surprise them rather than disappointing them. I wish everybody knew that there aren't perfect picture lives and took mine as normal, as this movie Precious, and see the light in the middle of the darkness rather than point out the black parts in my seemingly white image... and fuck off.