Could you date someone who isn’t bothered by trump?

img_3045Last week I marched with thousands of women in downtown Los Angeles protesting Trump and fighting for our equal rights, our freedom, and demanding respect.

The picture above shows the Pink Pussy Hat I wore and the sign I held among a sea of women all supporting each other, encouraging kindness, and coming together from all walks of life to say, “we all have different stories and experiences, but we’re coming together because we’ve had ENOUGH.”

This wasn’t my first protest. My first protest was for Black Lives Matter in Baltimore after the death of Freddie Gray. The national guard was called and a 10:00pm curfew was set on the city. I had never seen my city so full of cops, helicopters, and tanks. TANKS. Why on earth did there have to be tanks?? Tensions between Baltimore residents and police were at an all time high and the media had taken the whole narrative and twisted the shit out of it.  So that was my first experience protesting.

I was working in Pittsburgh at the time and dating my coworker. As I rushed back to Baltimore to protest, she sent me texts saying, “I don’t know why you have to do this. Please don’t. It’s not safe.” I would later find out that the weekend I was protesting and risking going to jail for breaking curfew she was cheating on me. I remember how bothered I was at the time that a gay Latina, woman felt this way about the black lives matter issue and protesting in general. Also, this girl was from Pittsburgh, where she was a minority every single day. The difference in opinion on how to handle this situation bothered me then and it bothers me now.

I was seeing this girl a few months ago that I was sure I was in love with. It turned out I wasn’t as much in love with her as I was just addicted to having sex with her. We soon realized though, that when we weren’t doing that we were very different. She didn’t give too much of a damn about what was going on around her politically and that reared it’s ugly head right after Trump got elected. My roommates and I were crying, shaking, and in disbelief. My entire office couldn’t talk the next day. I was in the office early the morning Hillary gave her concession speech. I thought I was completely alone so I started watching it on my tiny iphone screen when one of my coworkers came up behind me, put his hand on my shoulder quietly and just watched it along with me. Every person around me seemed on the same page – we were mourning our country. I sent a quick text to “X” saying, “I can’t seem to recover. I feel broken from this election” and she came back with, “really? I feel the opposite. Just don’t care I guess. Nothing we can do now.” I was so angry and bewildered by this response. How could this be happening to me AGAIN?? Another out and proud lesbian, who’s mixed, and teaches young children for a living, doesn’t care about this misogynist, orange monster who has been given the power to rule our country. That’s two women now, and not just any women, women who I was romantically linked to, who DON’T GIVE A FUCK.

After walking around a bit the march I realized another thing. I saw so many women not really participating or paying attention and instead focusing on taking selfies. I don’t want to generalize and make a blanket statement about all the marches across the U.S. but at the Los Angeles march this was happening at an alarming rate.While I’m grateful for each woman that showed up because each person counts, I personally took it seriously. I didn’t look at it as another opportunity to dress up and take selfies. That felt very self indulgent to me. This was especially highlighted in the photo that went viral of the black woman with a sign that read, “Remember White Women Voted for Trump” while 3 white women behind her were taking selfies. We need to remember this isn’t an opportunity for you to get a bunch of likes on instagram, this is war and we’re under attack.  After my experience in Baltimore, my experience with my ex in Pittsburgh, and my eerily similar experience with girl X, I was left more than a little frustrated.

The most obvious take away is that I have shit taste in women. But also, it’s deeply unsettling to me that the black lives matter protests didn’t draw as much rage out of women as it should have. Again, this is just MY experience. If you’re not already super angry, you’re not looking listening. While I’m so proud of all of the amazing women who came out to march, I’m also worried for the women who aren’t doing their research. I’m worried for women who are saying, “I don’t care.” My mom taught me to respect everyone’s beliefs but I’m finding that really tough right now.


The girl who made me lose my mind


For the sake of writing shit that no one gives a damn about…I think a lot about dating in your late 20’s and what that looks like especially since that occupies so much of my free time. I was thinking about how different it is now than when I was in my early 20’s. And then I remembered that actually we all were.

We were a lot more open with our emotions, more giving and willing to love. I can’t speak for anyone else but for me it was one person that changed all that. Is that how it is for everyone? You truck along in your relationships being this loving, giving, girlfriend until one day someone hurts you like you’ve never been hurt before and its like FUCK I’m changed forever. That’s how it was for me. I saw this girl and thought I had never seen a more beautiful girl in my life. She had brown wavy hair, a bright smile, and a i-dont-give-a-fuck slouch. She had small tattoos all over her body that forced you to look closer and when she looked at you she LOOKED at you and focused all her attention like there was no where else she would rather be. She listened and had a way of making you sound like you were the most important person in the world. I didn’t even mind that on our first date our waitress was blatantly hitting on her, we both laughed it off because L was the type of girl that made sure to show me she was there to see me, not to fuck the waitress. We walked to our cars in the freezing Baltimore air after that first date awkwardly wanting to touch hands. I had never clicked with someone so quickly.

But I fucked it up. I always saw L as a girl that could have any girl she wanted and I never understood why she was with me. My insecurities ate away at me every passing day. Around month three I realized I loved her and knew she was too guarded with her emotions to ever say anything of the sort. The resentment started to build. Why didn’t she feel for me as much as I felt for her? Little things led to arguments and she would say things that stung then and still sting today thinking back. “I like you more than I ever planned on” she would say. “This is moving so quickly, we both got carried away and I don’t know if I’m ready” she would say. Why aren’t you ready? I would think and cry in the privacy of my own bed because I always knew that even though she scared the shit out of me, I was always ready for her. When it became clearer to the both of us that I was way more attached and the pain was too much to take, I tried to break it off with her but she found a way to tell me exactly the right thing to keep me around. I would tell her I can’t talk to her anymore and she would listen for about two weeks and then somehow convince me to get back together. When we finally did break up I cried every day in my car before class before finally dropping the course. I had to repeat that class during the summer.

It was that relationship that made me go from a hopeful romantic and bright eyed about love to kind of a sarcastic asshole that’s not that trusting anymore. I’m not sure when it happens to people but i know somewhere along the line it changes for most just like it did for me and you’re never quite the same after.

I think back on that time and i think about how immature I was and I beat myself up and start thinking about how I could have handled things differently. But the truth of the matter is we never would have worked out and I’m not sure I’ve ever fully accepted that and now that’s my baggage to bear. And that baggage is also part of the difference in dating when you’re 21 and when you’re 29.


On nights like tonight, I ignore all my friends and stay in the comfort of my own room where I’m surrounded by my plants and art. I know that in this city of all cities I should socialize but I just don’t want to. I’d rather watch Bojack, and start a new book on my kindle.

This is probably why I’m single.

Saturday afternoon thoughts

I’ve lived in L.A. for a little bit over a year now and sometimes I still wake up and can’t believe this is my life. There was a time not so long ago when I was living in Baltimore, going to college, and working at a grocery store and bitterly bored with life just dreaming I could live in L.A. I remember lurking at people on tumblr and whenever I saw that they lived in L.A. I wondered how they managed to do it. To be fair, I still wonder how people do it because I didn’t do it in any proper way. I think my way just happened to work.

Now it’s been a year and I’m out of that stage where I’m wearing the same sweatshirt and boots everyday because those were the only clothes I had. You might think I’m exaggerating but you would be wrong. There was a three month span there were I was living out of exactly ONE bag and after I got a job I had to make money to pay bills so I still couldn’t exactly go crazy and buy lots of clothes. I still have that sweatshirt and I still have those boots and they make me ill a little bit every time I look at them. I would be lying though if I didn’t feel a little sense of pride there too.

I have two close friends who moved here at about the same time I did who recently moved back home. I have a feeling that’s going to happen now and again because L.A. is just that girl that you either love or hate. And lots of people try to like her for all her glamour and charm and then just realize they can’t stand the bitch. For me though, in this moment in time, I kind of love her. At first I was in that part of the relationship where she was really demanding and mean, but so beautiful I still couldn’t resist. Now, L.A. and I are in a groove. We’re getting along and I’m comfortable.

There are still struggles that I don’t think will ever go away, mainly dating. Being a lesbian in L.A. is both one of the most exciting things as well as one of the most insane. I really should dedicate an entire post to all the different women I’ve been out with and all the weird dates I’ve been through. I guess the point is that in a small city there are so many limitations but the great thing about it is you KNOW the crazies through friends, or friends of friends. In L.A. there are absolutely no limits to date ideas, no shortage of gorgeous women but no one is really looking to settle down ever, no one has time because we’re all working around the clock, and a good percentage of the women are a little nutso.

Maybe the problem is me. All I want is the romance Michele Pfeiffer and George Clooney in One Fine Day. Or the romance Kat had with Patrick in 10 Things I hate about You. I want a girl who can actually understand my 90’s references to Clarissa Explains It All and Blossom. I know, I know. THAT’S NOT THE STUFF THAT MATTERS. But it is to ME. I can’t go on a date with a girl who can’t laugh at a Tonya Harding joke because she’s too young or who doesn’t know the infamous moaning scene from When Harry Met Sally. I JUST CAN’T. Maybe I’m being too picky and that’s fine with me.




Lesbians who aren’t over their ex

The other day I went out with a lovely, adorkable, sexy in a way where she wasn’t totally aware of how sexy she was (which is the best kind if you ask me) girl, who was LITERALLY a brain surgeon. We went to a trendy bar in Los Feliz, she was dominant which I LOVE, and the drinks were flowing. It was all smooth sailing until she tells me she just got out of a TEN YEAR relationship that shattered her idea of love and ripped her heart out of her chest. She said this was her third date after that relationship. Then, I’m not even kidding, she goes, “she was so beautiful, I have a picture, look…” and whips out a photo of her. Fucking kill me please. Am I the only emotionally stable lez left on the planet? Please say it ain’t so.

I wish this was the first time this kind of thing happened to me but unfortunately, there’s something about these emotionally broken lesbians where they just SENSE me.

One girl I previously mentioned kept telling me how sexy I am, how much she liked me, how she saw a future with me, she even bought me gifts! She said she was totally over her ex only to cheat on me with her a short while after when I found out they had been talking and then fucking the whole time. That’s the other thing with these girls. They’re all CHARMING AS FUCK and HOT so I fall for their shit.

A few years back another ex assured me she was past her ex-girlfriend but still had pictures of her up in her bedroom. Me being the idiot that I was I took her at her word. When she told me she were over it and moved on I actually believed her, I didn’t think anything of it. That same girl was prone to freak outs such as, “This is moving too fast! I don’t know if I can be in another relationship right now!” which led to unnecessary fights and tears. I should have known from the early signs that SHE WASN’T OVER HER EX. But my little lesbian heart was wrapped around her little finger until it all blew up in a tearful fight.

Even back in my early college years I remember this one girl and I started talking. We were casually texting and one day she asked me to have dinner to which I happily said yes. Then one day before class I offered to buy her an iced coffee, the whole thing was very sweet. We were sitting outside the coffee shop and talking and as we walked back to class I leaned in and kissed her. I’m talking PG kiss. This ballsy, in-your-face girl who always had a witty comeback suddenly shrunk before my eyes and made an excuse to disappear into the bathroom. She called me after sitting awkwardly through that class and told me she was confused, that she felt that she was stuck between a rock and a hard place and didn’t know what to do but couldn’t go to dinner. It wasn’t long after that I found out she was actually still dating her on and off again ex.

This leaves me wondering…why am I the transitional person for these women? The one that carries them through an uncertain period in their life and makes them realize what’s important. I don’t want to be that person. Why am I the one they find, say they’re crazy about, only to leave me for their ex?


11 months

This month is ending and it’s making me think back to when I came here 11 months ago. On the one hand the whole thing plays out like a bad dream but on the other I’m so proud of myself. In one fell swoop, in one moment of hysteria my brain went, “I can’t do this anymore and I’ll literally do anything to make it work in Los Angeles.” I left my cheating ex-girlfriend, packed a bag and just left. In my mind it was for a week, that’s how long I packed for anyway, but I think now deep down inside a part of me knew I wasn’t coming back.

My parents were so upset that I left without saying anything they stopped talking to me. Three weeks later when I wanted to make arrangements to have my car shipped they said no. I didn’t end up having my car for the next 7 MONTHS. No car, no job, no place to live, no friends, and not a whole lot of money. Since my parents weren’t speaking to me they refused to send me the rest of my clothes which I had dropped off at their house before leaving, leaving me with one weeks worth of clothing. I was staying with three girls who all had busy schedules and lives and my welcome was over by week 2 but the girls let me know they weren’t rushing me. The stress eventually made me sick and landed me in urgent care. Twice. I did this all to myself though, I cried to my sister and my friends but really I only had myself to blame. I wanted a different life but I put zero effort into planning it and this was the result.

My days looked the same for a long time. Everyday I would look for work, look for an apartment (which I couldn’t get because I didn’t have a job), get depressed, and watch Gilmore Girls so that I could escape. ALL SEVEN SEASONS. Once in a while I went to a bookstore nearby and buy used books. Hanging out around the house made me even more insecure about bothering my roommates so I signed up for online dating as a way to get to know people and get to know L.A. and actually it was pretty fun. I went on a TON of dates. They led nowhere in a romantic sense but it got me out of the house and I met a lot of great girls who told me about L.A. and took me to interesting places. And this went on for two months until one day I interviewed for a job that was only scheduled to last for 2 months. I didn’t care, it still meant 2 months of work that I didn’t currently have. I got the job and it ended up lasted for almost a year and introduced me to some of my best friends and most talented people in the animation industry. One of the girls in my apartment had a personal issue come up and moved out leading me to take over her room, which I was finally able to do since I was employed. My parents finally came around and started talking to me and sent me my stuff (and my car!). It’s 11 months later and I’m both shocked and proud that I was able to pull it off.

I look back and it was so scary. It was scary because I made it scary. I didn’t have to put myself in an impossible situation and I know that, but knowing myself I don’t know that I could have done it any other way.