A kittengirl

So I’ve liked anime for some time and while I haven’t watched any neko (kitten) series I have found I like kittengirls quite a lot. This would usually mean nothing until I met innocent princess kitten, well not met but somehow found her on Instagram .
A quick glance at her pics and her words on the comments show a smart, sensitive and brilliant girl that found the courage to express herself despite oppressive world we live in.
It is not for me to say how difficult must be for her, however I can tell you I admire her.
She is the trigger on the feeling that has been building inside me, the desire to love and protect someone with that mix of sensitivity, playfulness and intelligence.

So how does this work?

Well apparently there are 3 (could be more) kinds of relationships; master/pet, daddy/little girl and master/slave. And if I understand them correctly I am interested in the first two.
Now the problem for me and reason of this post lies within those terms; master and daddy. Not that I have a problem, matter of fact I think they’re cool and even sexy.
The problem to me comes with earning them, not because I’m new to this, I could be the most experienced person on this topic yet it doesn’t make sense to me to ask a girl to call me that way. I believe it should be earned. To me it makes sense because I want to become special to her because of the way I care of her,  it comes with a silent commitment, matter of fact it makes me worry as I wonder if I will have what it takes to make her feel loved, safe, sexy and above all, happy.

For the reasons above I’ll stick to Lhun as my nickname. And while I’m not sure how this will play out now I’m sure I won’t give up until I make a kitten the happiest one ever.

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Facing change

So here I am, in a strange, fancy yet cozy cafĂ©. Why? Well I intended to take dancing lessons but one more time my lack of attention made me arrive sharp at 8 (which is unusual, I’m always late) just to get told by the bouncer that lessons only take places on Thursdays.
I could have driven home, would have been easier, but after all this time working myself to go out, I didn’t feel like going back empty handed.
You don’t know me but without realizing it I isolated myself for a little more than 20 years. Such a big number, there are people younger than that and might in fact have more experience being out here.
I bet to myself they’re not in a cafe writting a blog entry.
Coffee is good, I had a moka, strong taste but I can feel the chocolate lingering in my taste.
It is something so simple, just take your stuff and go out there, yet you face all kind of unnecessary thoughts, most about those subtle suggestions from “friends” telling me I’m too old for this or that.
“Everything has a time” that’s what we’re told, but who decides when is it right? Ok, I agree I screwed big time missing 20 years of my life, but should I just accept it and deal with it? Or should I stand and go for what I want?
Big words from coffee dude, I know.
The cheese something bread is good.
But what is age anyways? I’ve seen aged people being irresponsible and younglings taking care of families. Clearly age has nothing to do with knowledge, less to say about wisdom. Jackie Chan is clearly more agile at his 50 than my 7 hear old niece or any other kid I know. So I’m guided to think that, aside for the extremes (too young or old) it means very little.
Certain sports would also be a limit, still a physical limit, yet I don’t think it matters when going out to a bar or to dance. It clearly didn’t matter to Jackie when he had to do a nearly impossible stunt.
Once agains limits seem to lie in our heads, ideas imposed by social standards that when inspected reveal to be empty, just illusions. The girl that posts nearly naked on tumblr, those with different sexual tendencies. All of them come to my head, all of them trying to break this illusionary chains. They are true to themselves and now that I realize it, I respect them. Even more as I think all those hate filled posts they get.
Then I ask myself, is this change?
I believe this is just opening the eyes to the road ahead (not that there is one) as I will probably have to answer first whether I’m true to myself.

Avicci’s song comes to my mind; “All this time I’ve been finding myself and I didn’t know I was lost”.

I don’t like doing publicity but the place (really the tastes) was good to me, the place is called Le Pain Quotidien.

Not just another job interview

Yesterday I had another job interview yet there were hints telling me this would not be just another interview. The first tip to it, was the mail I got, this was the second appointment for said interview as the first one got canceled as the interviewer couldn’t make it to town (I learned this later), it was a very short one stating we should meet just naming a Starbucks and a street, my reply was just as short confirming my attendance. While this seems quite normal the question came to me while I was in the shower -What do you wear for an interview in a Starbucks- at that very moment I found myself holding the razor, I usually shave before an interview though this time I was hesitant, for a moment I thought to myself -heck I am who I am, why would I shave- but I knew the answer very well, I knew the rules of the game (or so I thought); a clean shave, a suit, tie and a paper that reads in the most fancy way all the stuff you’ve ever done and leaves out all the things you wish to do for the sake of fitting a profile. Still my mind insisted -you do not wear a suit for an appointment in Starbucks- there I noticed that, after working for almost 3 years for a company where you suit every day, unsurprisingly my wardrobe consisted of only suits and nothing for the occasion.

About one hour later I arrived to the coffee shop, yes, a clean shave, a suit and a tie. There I met with my -would be boss- a relaxed person from overseas who runs by himself a branch of the company here in Mexico and the first person to ever just speak the truth, the oh so common pretension of formality (borderline sacred), was for the first time I’ve ever seen, broken. The person before me not only was treating me as an equal but also telling me a story about success and honesty, which truthfully are two words I never thought to see in the same sentence when it comes to the business world. Listening to him was like a walk through the forest, fresh ideas blowing on my face as he completed the scenery of the company and the work he expected me to do. For a moment I found it hard to believe but I was so excited that I doubt it lasted more than a second.

For instance he pushed aside the idea of hiring someone that already has x years of experience, instead he said that they’re used to learn what is needed, pretty much like Google does, he said that specializing is a high cost to a ever changing market and that they needed people that can learn on the go, I couldn’t help but laugh and remark how unbelievable people from Human Resources would find this idea. He looked at me with a surprised gaze and then told me about how when he was hired the only person that voted against him was from HR, because he moved his hands a lot and this was a bad signal.

At that point I thought I had it, I mean it usually goes that way when you manage to joke in the same direction. However he was still uncertain about honesty. So I asked myself -what is wrong here, we agree in everything-, I took a moment to ponder things and then I realized it was I who didn’t make sense. My resume had a lot of references to skills sought in the market, my appearance stated that I knew very well the formal process of a job and my previous jobs described the career of someone seeking for the “stability” of a big company, but none of that said a word about myself, about who I really am or how I think.

I recall that from day one I thought that if you want to be successful in a game that already has the rules established then you need to know the rules, that’s how I first started wearing suits and ties and when it came to resumes I helped more than 10 friends to get their jobs by pimping their resumes. So now I come back to the phrase “we are what we do” and I look at myself and I notice why I don’t have the job I dream for, why I feel so misfit and as usual I realize that I did this on my own, and as harsh as it can be to realize our own mistakes, it comes with the hope of knowing what to change. I write this with hopes to someday look back at it from the chair of my dream job.