I found one of my old dusty binders and was surprised to find my early college class work still stuffed in each pouch. Classes I took at PCC in 2010 and 2011 all there to see. I suppose it’s only fitting today would be the day I rediscover it. I failed all my classes 2010, only to make a remarkable turnaround and ace everything in 2011. When you already hit the bottom, the only direction left is up.
38% “Work hard!” – Japanese 1 (2010)
51% “Work hard!” – Japanese 1 (2010)
A+ Keep it up! – History 7A (March 2011)
PCC was the hardest part about college. Taking two buses from Alhambra everyday took over an hour. I don’t miss that shit even for a second. What’s worse was when the weather was a total bitch and did everything to keep you from going. Heavy rain and crazy 100+ degree temps was a sign the world was fighting back against me. Had I not dicked around and struggled so much in Pasadena, I would of never figured out how to study or better yet — give a shit. Having your academic advisor struggle to find a reason needed to see you for the forth time in a year when you have a 3.7 GPA was comical.
Transferring to Santa Barbara and taking classes there was trivial. Like, come on. There’s a fucking beach just blocks away. I made it to paradise and it was my home for two crazy and fucked up years. I always found it amazing when some of my friends told me they didn’t pass or get into the major by some stroke of bad luck. I probably tried one third as hard as I did in Santa Barbara and still found it to be a piece of cake. How I managed over 200 units in that time isn’t a miracle by any stretch of the imagination. I wanted to out do myself and succeeded. Double majoring was brutal, yet so satisfying. Coupled with interning for CALPIRG, holding a job for the Daily Nexus, drinking constantly, and partying every weekend — some people didn’t think I was human. It’s good to be busy, but it’s even better knowing you’re doing more with your time than the next guy over.
Everything has gotten exponentially easier since then. I’ve switched jobs about 8 times in the time since I graduated. Gotten laid off twice. Left and quit on my own free will 6 times. I worked for Hulu. I’ve had 5 marketing jobs, 2 customer service, and 1 as a project manager. Life cannot keep me down and I won’t ever let it. You can either love me for the person I am and travel with me thru the storm or sit on the shore as a castaway and watch me set sail. My aunt and uncle from China consider me to be a huge success. Maybe they’re right. My foolish goal of wanting to just impress my grandma has far out grown itself and manifest itself to my inner drive to succeed for the sake of myself. I’m selfish and I love it. I’m an asshole more than half the time, but you’ll have a hard time convincing me it didn’t get me where I am. The lord can only do so much. For everything else, you have to fight for it.
Not that I’m complaining, but fuck me is life boring some times. That’s the problem right now. Life has gotten easy, goals have been met, and I’m not challenged anymore and not for a long time. Maybe Garza is right and I need someone that can keep up with me — my partner in crime. I have yet to meet some who fully aligns with my goals and passion for success. The need for self-fulfillment is rare in people. Mines burn brighter everyday and with each passing night.
You can love me for it now and I’ll let you, but if you’re not where you want to be and don’t know how — sorry baby. Bye bye birdie. I’m gonna miss you so.