Just the Beginning

Another interesting week, ladies and gents.  Honestly, it’s been hard to post another plogcast this week because I’m exhausted from the anxiety and depression of my current life transition, and I’m stressed af from unsuccessfully studying for my licensing exam (hereinto referred to as the EPPP).  So, I’m a few days behind.

Last week, I went kayaking for the first time ever, I attended class 2 of improv, had some interesting conversations with boys on bumble, watched Annabelle with my scary movie crew, attended the Detroit Improv Festival, joined a kickball league, connected with a consultant to help me study and pass the EPPP, and successfully became a Lyft driver.

I’m currently sitting at a Starbucks, drinking a Watermelon Mojito smoothie from Juice It Up, and listening to Pandora’s station “Summertime Hits of the 90s.”  


Kayakyakyak

There’s two kinds of people in this world: Person A (PA) someone who can spontaneously pick up and go wherever; and Person B (PB) someone who likes to plan in advance and be as prepared as possible.  Guess which one I am??  Yup, I’m a PB!  It’s sorta like Type A and Type B personality, but I’m not referring to that specifically.  I’m a PB because:

I don’t like feeling frustrated or irritated if I/we missed something important and am/are no longer eligible for whatever it was that I/we wanted or needed

If something unexpected happens, I/we carry a back-up plan and additional resources to get me/us through whatever obstacle

I’m a bit of a control freak who can’t really handle uncertainty, disorganization, or chaos

Does any of this resonate with you?   Being a PB stems from my upbringing (i.e., parents had authoritative yet OCD and perfectionistic vibes) and my cosmic disposition (i.e., I’m on the Virgo-Libra cusp and I’m Lifepath number #9) – mtbr on all of this.

Last weekend I had the opportunity to experiment with these archetypes of PA and PB.  I received an invitation to go kayaking with my new friend, Kasian.  Initially, I felt my PB nature and thought of many excuses to decline.  Some thoughts also included deeper meanings that reinforced negative emotional experiences:

“I’ve never been kayaking before. I know I’m not good at it, so I don’t want to look like an idiot” (underlying message: I don’t want anyone to take care of me because if they do, then I would feel shame for being seen as weak and pathetic)

“I’m too fat to fit in the kayak” (underlying message: my size exposes me to disgust, and the pain from humiliation is enough to evoke feelings of worthlessness and thoughts of suicide)

“I’m too fat and too hairy to wear a bathing suit” (underlying message: my size, skin type, and ethic background are all undesirable and worthless characteristics that I should hide and feel disgust and shame about)

“It’s way too last minute. What if we get there and can’t kayak for some reason because we didn’t plan ahead?” (underlying message: not having control or knowing what is going to happen makes me feel so incompetent and inadequate that I feel too uncomfortable to adjust and embrace the unknown)

“I’ve never been kayaking before.  What if something bad happens?” (underlying message: the unknown is too scary and I don’t have what it takes to get through it)

Despite these thoughts, something inside me decided to say fuck it and let go of my PB nature so that I could live life from a PA approach.  So, I decided to go.  I was so nervous about having never been kayaking before, so I started YouTubing videos of how to self-rescue if a kayak capsizes.  I mean, c’mon, I wanted to be prepared for the worst case scenario!  Also, I was way too self-conscious to wear the bathing suit purchased a couple years ago in public.

Around 10pm the night before, I went to Meijer, a 24-hour grocery store, to buy a bathing suit cover-up of some sort.  I found flower printed fluttery shorts that were really cute and glamorous (totally my style).  I was excited to commit to the fashion choice.  But really, I was essentially willing to publicly embrace my fatness, queerness, and femininity in a way that I had not done before.   The last time I had done something similar was when I performed at Nerd Nite about a month ago, only this was like.. more nakie.  And both times, I still packed and brought back-up clothing just in case I chickened out last minute and changed my mind or something unexpected happened and I would need to change (like a true PB would).

Lucky for me, Kaisan is a blend of both PA and PB, so although it was an unplanned trip we weren’t totally unprepared.  Apparently the place we went to had 100 kayaks available for first-come-first-serve rentals that went fast.  Unlucky for us, we couldn’t reserve kayaks because it was too last minute, so there was a big chance that we’d miss the window to rent.

The next day we were up at the crack of dawn and ready to drive up to Port Austen, about 3 hours north from Ann Arbor.  And off we went on this adventurous journey.  We ate McDonalds for breakfast, drove in a car lended by a boy Kasian met off of Bumble, and passed through Amish country along the way.  We talked about life, career, dating, money, womanhood, and brainstormed ideas for my podcast and my drag persona.  We joked about being the only Asians within 300 miles.

Once at Port Austen, we made it just in time to get the last few available kayaks.  The counter lady said the journey was about 4 hours roundtrip, and that the path leads to “Turnip Rock” and some salt caves.  Daunting exploration, I thought.  Kasian put my phone in a ziplock bag.  I told the guy who was helping me get into my kayak, “I’ve never been kayaking before, what do I do?”  “Don’t fall out,” he replied.  Gee, thanks.

Timidly, I got in this damn thing, still fearful if I could fit comfortably and worried about what would happen.  Without hesitation, the guy pushes me out into the water (when I wasn’t ready), and I immediately started to tip over.  The guy shouts, “Don’t shake!”  Yea, ok!  Trying not to panic, I had to trust that my human instincts would take over and balance myself out.  Now here I was, floating along thinking holy shit wtf did I just get myself into, omg there’s no escape plan, shit shit shit shit shit.  My heart was beating fast, I was very vigilant about my surroundings, and afraid that I’d capsize if I lost my balance.  I was getting all up in my head and it was feeding into the fear of the unknown.

With a calm voice, Kasian told me not to worry because she would be there to help guide me along.  Now, I’ve had two other opportunities to go kayaking in the past few months: one with my best friend, Meekachu, and the other with a co-worker I’ll call Becky (mtbr on this too).  But for the aforementioned reasons of my PB nature, I declined the invitations because I think that somehow Kasian was the person who needed to help me push myself outside of my comfort zone.  I have true gratitude for her guidance because I’m still here to tell the tale!  I was reminded to breathe and be patient with myself as I learned how to paddle and steer.  My mind started to clear and I began to feel comforted and grounded.  

The waves to Turnip Rock weren’t bad at all.  It was a quite smooth and peaceful ride.  We took a lot of pictures with my selfie stick, but I was a bit worried that our phones could fall into the water.  There was an annoying water fly that followed me the whole way.  I thought maybe this fly is the embodied spirit of my grandfather, best friend, or cousin following me so that I wouldn’t feel alone.  Thoughts like this are admittedly comforting.

After two long hours of paddling, we finally arrived at Turnip Rock.  My butt was definitely hurting at this point.  Many people were there just chillin’ on the sand banks or the giant rock slabs, or they were splashing around in the water.  I enjoyed relaxing in my kayak, but Kasian wouldn’t take no for an answer to join her in the water.

So here I was again.. doing something out of my comfort zone.  I thought, great, now people are gonna see how fat and hairy I am, this is gonna ruin the experience for everyone.  It’s interesting to think about how this narrative and identification of believing that we are ugly, fat, or stupid since childhood follows us into adulthood.  Given these unhelpful thoughts, It was up to me to quiet them and approach my fears by just getting the fuck in the water.  I did, and it was cold as hell.  Even still, I was feeling so proud of myself for having made it this far.  I was feeling good in my skin.  This experience gave me something that has always felt so fleeting, and for that I will be forever grateful.

At Turnip Rock, we met two young white couples who had beers and cigarettes.  We drank and smoked, and we laughed about stupid shit.  It was a small party just for us.  Often times I feel like I’m missing out on life because my PB nature that’s timid, insecure, and worried about everything.  But once I let go of PB and welcomed the PA mentality, I began to enjoy myself and embrace the adventure and journey I was on with a caring and trusting friend  (not just in Kasian but also within me).

After a short while, we got back in our kayaks to take more selfies.  A camera drone was hovering above us, two half naked ladies.  The drone was operated by folks on a boat not too far away, yea not weird at all, but whatever, get it while it’s hot, boys!  Soon after, we kayaked to the salt caves.  It wasn’t anything like the counter lady had made it seem.  They were disappointingly short and shallow (something I never want to hear).  As we turned back towards the Port, we suddenly stumbled upon another cave that was hidden by tree vines.  The only reasons we knew it was there was because we heard some cackling laughter and saw that the sun was shining through the vines and on some naked white butts.

Naturally, our curiosity piqued and we steered towards the cave.  We floated between the branches and vines to then dock our kayaks in the sand.  The cave was full of contrast and texture.  Two white ladies were in there already.  They had been smoking pot and taking topless pictures of themselves.  Kasian joined in on the fun (the topless part), but we both decided not to partake in weed because we didn’t know how we’d do on the kayaks while stoned.  It was a wise choice.

Two more women joined us with a bottle of Prosecco and then suddenly everyone’s taking pictures of themselves topless.. well everyone except me and an older mom.  We were like nah fuck that noise and stayed in our bathing suits. While I’m totally willing to push myself outside of my comfort zone, I’m still private and ashamed about my naked body.   For instance, I had thoughts like, what if they see the stretch marks, cellulite, and scars across my body from years of self-abuse or neglect? What if they notice my large nipples? What if they judge and reject me?  This just adds to the general unpleasant feelings that I have about living in a fat and hairy body.  So yea, getting naked wasn’t an option.  IDGAF if people thought I was being a party pooper (Kasian said I was being “lame”).  The vibe felt clear that by declining in the fun I was somehow dampening the fun too (thereby eliciting a nice small dose of shame).

I noticed that I was getting irritated because the girls had trouble taking no for an answer.  I was also getting hangry and I was constipated, (I had to take a dump the whole time but couldn’t release it earlier because I was too anxious to relax my sphincter).  After a while of laughing along on the sidelines, at one point I’d had enough and was like, peace y’all, I got a date with a toilet.  Kasian exchanged numbers with some of the ladies and we left with hope and excitement for the next adventure getting stoned and naked in a cave somewhere another point in time.

Once back on the water, I comfortably secured myself and paddled like a goddamn champ.  Kasian was like, well hot damn, Kulky, look who’s not scared anymore!  She was right!  I had trusted my body to do what felt true.  I was less in my head because I was breathing and grounded.  I started to really savor the view and experience of it all… the feeling of bouncing against the waves, squinting my eyes from the shine of the lake, feeling the cold water droplets falling from the paddle onto my lap, and sensing the heat from the blistering sun.  I felt alive and free.  I felt whole and complete.

Because I used up much of my energy kayaking and socializing, I knew that I needed time just for myself, so Kasian and I paddled side by side without many words.  But within 15 minutes or so, the two stoned naked ladies from the cave had caught up with us.  While the three of them chatted away, I decided to paddle in front of the group on my own.  I was on a mission to get my ass to a damn toilet, so you better believe I kayaked like a fucken banchee.  Even though I was riding against the waves (something I’m familiar with in life), I had managed to establish an easy going rhythm. Eventually my fingers, forearms, back, butt, and knees were noticeably aching.

What would have taken me 2.5 hours to kayak back from the salt caves to the Port took me about 1.5 hours.  I fucking booked it!  I looked like a goddamn speed boat.  Makes sense, I mean, that’s what needing to take a dump will do to you!  I looked behind me and couldn’t see the other girls, so I was completely on my own.  Knowing this freaked me out a little.  I had thoughts like, what would happen if I capsized or if something else happened and I needed Kasian to guide me?  I had to mindfully hold that thought and calmly respond to myself, well if that happens, I’ll figure it the fuck out, and until then, just keep going.  These thoughts were motivating and encouraging to actually help me zip through the choppy waters and get to shore.

I passed by and waved at other kayakers, floated across the water with gliding geese beside me, and enjoyed the sights of a black lab wearing a life jacket and playing alone in the water with his ball.  Once docked and safely on land, I noticed that my skin felt like it was on fire and that my body was in pain.  Also, I didn’t have to poop anymore.  I was so annoyed.

The next few days, my fingers felt sprained from overuse, and my sensitive breast skin was the reddest I’ve ever seen!  I don’t normally burn, so this feeling is quite painful.  I’m just now starting to peel, but my fingers are still sore.  Regardless, this spontaneous adventure was so worth it. I created this life experience by saying yes to an unplanned adventure.   I had an absolutely enriching experience exploring the unknown with new friends. I’m really proud of myself for trusting myself and conquering my fears.   Not only did I kayak for the first time, but I absolutely slayed it in a bathing suit that celebrated my body size, my femininity, and my queerness.

Kasian and I talked about being travel buddies.  We’re thinking of Greece or Hawaii next, but we’ve both got to save for these experiences.  It’s a well-deserved treat for working so hard.  So here’s to the next adventure ahead!


Improv is Play

We played a game called “Thank You” in which we were supposed to complement the body language/position of another classmate without using words.  We played machine in which one by one each classmate uses their body as part of a well-oiled machine and that each classmate has to touch or be “connected” to a body part of another classmate.  We played “puns at a bar” where the dialogue started with, “A (insert object name here) went to a bar, The bartender says we don’t serve your kind.  The (insert object name here) said why not? And the bartender said, (insert punny punchline here).”  We’ll always end the class by playing “Freeze,” a classic improv game that is just one of my favorites because it’s too damn fun.

I noticed that improv is a lot like what I do in therapy.  We’re learning how to give and take, to slow down and breathe so that we can feel more centered and grounded when trying to think off of our feet.  We are learning about a story arch in which there is a cohesive beginning, middle, and end, and we’re learning about different characters within ourselves to role play in these made up scenarios.  We’re slowly getting more comfortable with each other and finding the groove or rhythm of improv.

I find myself looking forward to these classes and am feeling more connected with my classmates.  I’m so incredibly excited to continue the series and eventually graduate from the Pointless School of Improv!  My teacher, Miss Lit, is super involved in improv in Ann Arbor and Detroit area.  I’m inspired by her!  I don’t care about the (non-existent) money or fame, I just care about experiencing playfulness, connection, and laughter.  It’s a dopamine rush, for sure.  It’s also where I feel most like myself as a misfit, so it really feels good to show up and be seen.

Here are some snapchats of what I’ve learned in class 2:


BumbleBeeTuna Boys

This app is very interesting.  I like that women have the power to filter out who they want to connect with.  The only condition is that women have to initiate a conversation otherwise the connection is lost “forever” (seems a bit dramatic, but that’s what the app says).  I’ve made some decent connections with a few men who seem to have their shit together, are cute in their own way, and have some kind of personality that intrigues me.  If I had to describe it, I really like me a goofy nerd who’s accepting, kind, and resourceful.  I can’t do basic or “buff cakes,” as my old supervisor would say.

There are a few people where the conversation seems to just fizzle out.  My friend Meekachu says that it’s normal and to let it be.  I didn’t realize there’s such an etiquette to online dating.  I have a history of online dating back when AOL, limewire, napster, and myspace were things.  I’m thinking of writing a separate blog post and recording an episode about those experiences, but a lot of it is kinda dark and has led to me not being romantic or sexually active with anyone in over 10 years.

Here’s what I’ve noticed about Bumble Boy’s profiles so far:

It’s common to find guys taking pictures of themselves holding a gun or a dead animal, doing extreme sports/activities (usually golf), selfies of themselves in the bathroom or gym mirror or with their dog in their car, group pictures with a dozen different dudes where you can’t tell which one is him, or with other women who were clearly past romantic or sexual partners.

It’s also common for guys to describe themselves on their profile with the generic cliche’d stuff (e.g., I’m active, enjoy traveling and the outdoors, I love craft beer, videogames, huntin’, golf…), and this is only if they even write something in their bio!

I swipe left if a cute guy doesn’t have any description whatsoever (ok that’s a lie, but c’mon, some people are just too hot to say no to).  I’ve swiped right on folks I believe are way out of my league.  I distinctly recall saying to myself fuck it, who cares if they reject me, I’m still gonna go for it.  This is another thing I’m curious about: what does it mean to be in someone’s “league” anyway?  My friends Quangel and Meekachu were discussing this a few weeks ago.  It’s inspired me to publish a separate post and episode about our experiences and thoughts with online dating, so mtbr…

Once I’ve matched, I’m unsure about how to come up with an inviting message or go about a conversation.  It’s a lot of pressure!  Especially because I’ve revealed that I’m a clinical psychologist, so I believe that it sets an assumption or expectation about me and my ability to socialize or relate.  Very few of the conversations go beyond hello, so I’m struggling feeling comfortable enough to be myself.  It’s probably because online dating is an incredibly vulnerable arena to enter after so many years feeling protective and closed off.

So, my courage is kinda amazing.  Like, right now I’m literally talking to about a handful of bumble boys who seem worthy of my time.  They are equally weird and share my sense of humor.  For the most part, our convos seem to flow well and I’m feeling hopeful.

But I’m also nervous as hell to actually meet these people in person.  I’m swarmed with thoughts like, What if they’re catfishing me?  What if they don’t find me attractive because I’m not all dolled up as some of my pictures display?  What if when we meet it’s awkward and not fun?  What if they’re sexist or misogynist?  omgomgomgomg I’m freaking myself out. *sigh*  Indeed, ’tis unhelpful.  But so far there are two human people with potential, mtbr…


Detroit Improv Festival

Remember how I said I’m more of a person who likes to plan in advance and be as prepared as possible?  This was one of those occasions that I followed my natural instincts.  There were several shows (6pm, 8pm, and 10pm, and at 3 different venues), all sold out.  I went with Diegy and Meekachu, and Meekachu decided to invite the Bumble Boy she’s connected with, I’ll call him Mr. Ohio.

We all carpooled an hour away to Ferndale, MI to eventually miss out on the improv festival, something that I had been looking forward to to help me with my own improv classes.  So, not only did we not plan in advance (i.e., buying tickets online, as everyone in line had done already), but then it started raining and none of us had an umbrella.  Now, I don’t mind getting rained on here and there – like a quick run into a store or something – but we walked about a mile in the rain.  Similar to what happened in the cave with other stoned naked white girls, it felt clear that my mood affected the vibe of the group, which inflamed a sense of shame about believing that I am a complicated and difficult person.

I wan’t not a happy camper because I had just washed my hair and I was pissed that we missed the shows.  Naturally, I got in a pretty sour mood and completely isolated myself from the group.  I shut down and didn’t talk to anyone, which others picked up on.  There was an interesting vibe.. honestly, it’s something that I’m aware of and also something I really hate about myself.  Sometimes I don’t feel capable of managing my mood when shit goes unexpectedly, and I feel my most unloveable, or the most difficult to love, during those times.

Our backup plan was dining at a restaurant.  We had a few drinks and ate some gnarly tacos.  I had a stogie outside and met someone who watched me take a hit from someone’s cannabis oil vape.  The buzz instantly lightened up my mood.  I felt more loose and uninhibited.  I could tell that others felt more relaxed too because we were all laughing and genuinely enjoying ourselves and each other’s company.

Also, side note, this evening stood out a couple observations:

I’m easily over-stimulated when my senses are flooded, especially by other people.  This naturally repels me because I can’t physically tolerate the pain, which then creates an interesting vibe and dynamic between me and the other person I feel over-stimulated by.  This is something I’ve known about myself but am too ashamed to admit to others because I’m afraid of being perceived as “sensitive,” “overreactive,” or “dramatic.”

I’m more envious of Meekachu’s love life than I realized.  I noticed the non-verbal body language and dialogue between her and Mr. Ohio that felt good yet painful to watch.  She’s one of my best friends and someone whom I genuinely want all good things for, but I also feel weaker and more insecure when comparing myself to her.  I admire how she courageously puts herself out there in the dating world and makes herself vulnerable to have some growth-promoting connections with other potential partners.  I know I can do this with platonic or familial relationships, but erotic or romantic??? That’s hard to see… let alone do…  Obviously, I’ve got a lot of work to do in this arena.. so mtbr on this.

Meekachu is a very sweet friend.  She and I hung out the next day and talked about our experiences.  Mr. A, my group/individual therapist, Quangel and Meekachu have each been instrumental in my life.  They are all teaching me that it’s possible to still be worthy and lovable even when I’m being a pain, or confusing, or difficult.  They are helping me realize that my support system won’t leave me, and that the world won’t end when I display these other sides to me.  I’m feeling more comforted to continue holding these aspects of myself with curiosity and compassion so that I can not only understand my psyche better, but so that I can also better relate to myself and others and navigate how I get through life’s unknowns.


EPPP Dread

The EPPP is a beast of a licensing exam for clinical psychologists.  It comprises of 225 multiple choice questions on the computer and completed in 4 hours and 15 minutes.  It costs over $600 each time you take it, and every state has different cut off scores that are passing for licensure.  New York and California are the most strict.

The test is broken down into 11 content domains, and the quantity of item questions are grouped from greatest to lowest importance.  It’s not enough to know just the content though, it’s also about how we apply this knowledge to hypothetical scenarios in which more than one answer could technically be correct.  The exam questions and answers are designed to be challenging and tricky with many shades of gray to understand and navigate through.  It’s intended to mimic the realities of existence, so it’s not just a license for psychology, it’s the test of life.

Many people pass the first time when taking the EPPP, however many more don’t.  Studying for this exam is a whole different beast.  There’s a variety of resources folks use to study (e.g., online exams, flash cards, audio recordings), and there’s some excellent study tips and techniques to learn all the material just enough to understand how it’d work out in real life.  The most challenging part is actually carving out time in our busy schedules and prioritizing things that need to go after studying.  That means, saying no to things we want to say yes to.  Even though they say it’s a 4-month commitment, for many of those who’ve failed the exam the first time, it became a timely and costly stressor holding them back.  Nevertheless, they persisted.

To help increase my sense of connection and support, I joined a Facebook study group for the EPPP.  This is where I discovered the opportunity to work with a consultant to help me study and pass the exam.  I reached out to the consultant, whom I’ll call Miss AATBS.  We arranged a weekly study plan where I’ve agreed to read at least two content domains (~100 pages) and take one practice exam in study mode, so about 15 hours of studying a week.  While I truly am motivated to get this test over with, it’s been just over two months since I studied effectively, so I’m a bit worried that I’m gonna have trouble following through.

For further context: May was a good study month.  I followed a very specific study plan and I was making good progress.  I knew that if I just followed this pace I could easily take the exam in early August.  Well, I didn’t anticipate that series of events that followed throughout the months of June and July.

Early in June, the presence of a new group member who reminded me of my complicated dynamic between me and my sister had shaken me off the beaten path.  It remained unresolved in group for weeks, and I lost motivation and energy to study because I was emotionally drained and mentally fatigued.  A couple weeks later, I became violently ill with a stomach virus that lasted for over a week.  The next week in June, I went on a 5-day intensive training or retreat on mindfulness self-compassion in California, which pretty much changed the course of my entire life.  The weekend after that I got my tarot cards read, which solidified my determination to follow through on my goals and work towards my values.  Then, I got into a weird little misunderstanding with my parents the subsequent weekend.  I highly regressed for over a day after that.  This ordeal pushed me even further away from studying and instead motivated me to take action steps towards launching this blog.  A week later, I launched my podcast.  All of these shifts had to happen for me to be where I’m at now.  So has my thoughts of imposter syndrome and general ambivalence about taking the exam because of the oppressive nature on my identity and sense of professionalism.  Within this last two month period, it hasn’t really been the same.

Still, if I want that job at the group private practice (interview is next week), I gotta play the game and get my license.  So to help myself gear up for studying, I signed up for a 4-day EPPP workshop in Detroit starting this upcoming weekend.  Hopefully I can take and pass this exam by October or November of this year.  Then I can later decide whether or not I want to be licensed, but at least the test is done!  In addition to Miss AATBS, I know that my folks will be checking-in on me too, so I obviously don’t want to disappoint and have yet another stressor over me.

I’d like to reframe that this exam is good because it’s my chosen profession, and that this exam is teachable and I can master the material.  I’d also like to reclaim my professional identity as a queer and tattooed, fat and femme clinical psychologist, so I’m working on how to bridge being a licensed clinician and a media personality in order to make this venture into something great.

Let’s see how this part of the story unfolds.  mtbr…


Need a Lyft?

So it turns out that becoming certified to be a Lyft driver isn’t as hard as I had originally thought.  The website requirements were confusing, so I emailed support staff who clarified the information that contradicted the website instructions.  I didn’t need to have my car registered and insurance from MI after all, just as long as it’s registered and insured in any state.  However, I did need a MI driver’s license.  I made a quick appointment with the DMV last week, which surprisingly didn’t take long at all and was quite a pleasant experience.

While my background check was pending, I washed and detailed my car by myself and I bought a lovely car scent (Fabreeze’s “Moonlight Breeze”).  It smells like candy.  My car has never looked or smelled so good.

Around midnight this past Sunday, I drove around for about 4 hours, gave 5 rides, and made about $~70.  Lyft takes 25% of my fare, but I keep any tips.  The first passengers I picked up was an incredibly sweet couple who were so supportive after learning they were my first ride.  They wished me well and were supportive of my podcast, which felt really really good.  Later that day, I met a recovering Mormon who needed a ride to a Motel 6 because he regrettably rented an AirBnB apartment with used towels, tissues, and condoms in it.  I also met another young woman who must have had an interesting night prior because she was talking to her friend on speakerphone about their recent sexcapades.

Another woman I picked up was a Punjabi-Sikh nurse who’s husband lived far away and who encouraged me to get an arranged marriage.  Later, I took another bi-racial couple to the airport, a 30 minute drive that cost them $~50.  The guy was a German international doctoral student in economics and the girl was a Thai international software designer who both reside together in Northern California.  My last passenger was someone who just didn’t seem to enjoy life too much, but he expressed his appreciation for my savvy driving skills.

All in all, the experiences so far have been quite colorful and productive.  I’m excited for what’s more to come as a Lyft driver, and I’m even more excited that I’m one step closer to purchasing better podcasting equipment and drag queen essentials to make my persona come alive.


Obviously, a lot is happening.  I’m learning so much by pushing myself out of my comfort zone.  I feel good because I’m impressing the shit out of myself.  There’re some amazing opportunities that lie ahead.

I’m ready to show up and be seen.

Let’s see how the story continues as the next week unfolds.  Stay tuned on mtbr…

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