Bittersweet

I purchased a 2009 Mustang on August 16, 2009, a few days later I was informed at work that there was a possibility that I would be receiving a pay cut. A deep pain sank in my stomach. Could I really afford monthly car payments on a salary reduction? Insurance? Rent? Food? If I were to get a second job how would that effect the relationships with my friends and family?

Torn between a former life and my new commitment, I quickly went into survival mode, searching for a part time job that would help me make some extra cash to supplement the loss of pay I was to endure. Within a few weeks, I was hired by Gulfstream restaurant as a service bartender. After my first shift, I had an overwhelming sense of uncertainty of whether I could do this job as efficiently as they needed; after all, I was completely out of my element. So weekend after weekend, I continued to struggle barely staying afloat, I started to fear that maybe they would take notice that I was severely unqualified for this position.


As one month past, I began to hit my stride and making drinks started to become easier. The frequent questions regarding drink recipes were diminishing, as they had been inculcated into my weekend mental dictionary. Additionally, I noticed that with each weekend that I worked, the more I looked forward to clocking in. Partially intrigued by the constant influx of people but mostly by my co-worker’s intelligent, artistic, creative and wide eyed curiosity for the world’s many offerings, it seemed that I had found a niche.


Months past and I was informed by my HR department at UCLA’s School of Nursing that I wouldn’t be receiving a pay cut. Although tempted to leave the restaurant, I decided to continue my moonlighting as a bartender. With an increase in hours and many projects taking shape, my body started to feel the physical burden that too much of a good thing is not all that great.


A few weeks ago when I put my leave of absence at the restaurant, I thought it was the best thing that I could have done but after this past weekend, I realized how much I’ll miss the atmosphere at Gulfstream and although I’ll be returning, I know from experience that when you leave something behind the dynamic never stays the same. With one more weekend before my break, I'm left with a bittersweet taste in my mouth.

Complacency

Complacency is a scary place to reside in. It’s always easiest to live in a world of convenience then to chase your hopes and dreams. Far to often we let our ambitions take a back seat in an attempt to protect ourselves from the fear of failure. Essentially, this misunderstanding that a life well lived with no pain or little disturbance is nothing but a big myth. We should absorb life with the same sense of curiosity regardless of whatever we encounter is full pain or delight. Not all our experiences will be full of pleasure, we sometimes will have to lose the ground we walk on in order to appreciate the things we have, the things we need and the things we want. We can’t be taught this through second hand experience; we can’t be told what to do and what is right for us because what is right for someone else is not necessarily right for you or me. We have to leap and sometimes fall and see the world in the many shades that it exists in. If we forever stay invested in a state of complacency, we may never know the potential that we encompass.

Another run around the sun

For 365 days, we are on a constant count down; utilizing calendars, day planners and post it notes to make our lives feel more significant. Daily routines have us rushing from one insignificant event to the next; not realizing that we casually throw away seconds everyday. Of course, these institutionalized activities are not acknowledged as a waste of time in the eyes of an industrialized society, as this “throwing away of seconds” is done in a socially acceptable manner. For some, myself included, much of what is deemed acceptable behavior is a far cry from anything I want for myself. Essentially, complacency is a scary place to exist in, no room for growth or possibility for change.


I turned twenty-four one week ago and I’m not exactly sure of how the trail I’ve left in the past year has any viable direction. I graduated from UCLA two years ago with a degree in Sociology and minors in Political Science and Theater. However, I work as a Lab technician for the School of Nursing and School of Medicine at UCLA. Not exactly remotely close to where my interest lie but a job nonetheless. Additionally, I started moonlighting as a bartender at a restaurant to pay for a small impulsive purchase. OK, a car isn’t a small purchase but sometimes we make our mistakes and we have to deal with the repercussions of those mistakes. In my case, it’s indeed one beautiful mistake.


Around the same time of my absent minded car purchase, I signed a three year contract with Schuller Talent, who once represented Mos Def and currently represents Anna Kendrick. Despite the promise of various avenues that life could take me, I settled for working 60 hours a week. I spent the latter half of my 23rd year working week in and out; sadly, I stopped enjoying the simple pleasure that life gives us daily and made my way down a one-way track with no possibility for detours. Settling and over indulging in complacency is dangerous to one’s spirit and imagination.


Last week, I tried my best to reevaluate the past year to make sure that as I make another run around the sun, it won’t be one filled with regret. Although I didn’t come up with an answer, I did start brainstorming and at the moment I’ve decided to end my stint as a bartender. In a few weeks time, the life I put on hold 7 months ago will start over again.

Starting Over (part 2)

Hey everyone,

Here's to starting over.



Song produced by Logan Yuzna
Rap written and performed by Logan Yuzna
Lyrics written and performed by Mauricio Pena

all the best,

mauricio pena

Starting Over

Born number 6 of 7, I came to the conclusion that either my parents were devout Catholics or they didn’t believe in contraceptives. Thinking back at my childhood church experiences watching as husbands and their wives walked into church followed by a liter of children, ruled out the latter half of my conclusions. It was obvious that fornication was a prevalent lesson at Sunday mass and the people in attendance were receptive to the literature presented. I mean who wouldn’t be intrigued by a fantastical story of Immaculate Conception or Deception? Of course, it all depends on whether you believe Mary or not.

Anyhow, as fate would have it, I didn’t absorb much of the lessons being taught in mass, even my mother’s subtle underarm pinches couldn’t coerce me to pay attention. The fact that I wasn’t listening to the words of peace and love was never more apparent than with my sibling interactions. The constant bickering or physical altercation with by my siblings resulted in my father suggesting I start boxing.

Aside from learning how to throw and take a punch, the boxing ring established parameters acknowledging that you had two things working against you, your opponent and most importantly time. Any form of safety was invalid for three minutes between ringing bells; thus, it was vital to learn your strengths and weakness, and adapt those weaknesses in a manner that would undermine your opponents strengths and capitalize on the remaining time you did have.

For 23 years, I took advantage of this defensive mentality and was able to successfully achieve what I wanted. However, the past year I found myself contemplating the long-term effects of continuously being on the defensive. Incessantly wearing armor and building the walls is not something that should be done, thinking others as your opponent and being suspect of them only breeds pessimism and cynicism. Essentially, time is all we own and depending on how you spend it determines the mutual relationship; by default time is not your opponent.

So as the wick of my 23rd year burns its final inches, I’m reassessing how I deal with situations that I encounter. Peace and love? Carpe Diem? Loving-kindness? Whatever avenue I choose to take, I hope it’s a good one.