Lu-Lu-Lucy's Rant

Picking up the mess | Living life | sans tiger-parents

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“Lifestyle Bloggers” – Whaaaaaaa??

So, someone please explain to me what is up with these Lifestyle Bloggers? My understanding of them, or what I observe mainly on Instagram, is that you carefully flaunt the nice shits you have (sometimes, sponsored) in a staged, ungenuine manner.

To each their own. I have no qualms with people blogging about their shit or their followers. Just that, it appears most of the time, the shits are expensive AF that no normal working person with even an above average wage can afford…

As a reference, “lifestyle” as defined by:

  • the Oxford Dictionaries: the way in which a person lives
  • the habits, attitudes, tastes, moral standards, economic level, etc., that together constitute the mode of living of an individual or group

I guess my complaint boils down to this: I’d like to see some realistic lifestyle bloggers? Do they exist? Like, go buy this $12 tee from whatever store, instead of some $400 tank top? Surely, there are not so well off people out there other than me self??

Random rant. That is all.


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Learning how to ski at 34

If anyone had told me even two years ago that I would learn how to ski at the ripe, old age of 34, I would’ve laughed in their face. I would’ve told them my body is too old for that shit.

We hear that quite often, don’t we?

“I am too old to party!”

“I am too old to start over!”

“I am too old to *insert verb*!”

I whole-heartedly believed in that shit.

Until, in my 30’s, I learned how to draw. I taught myself 3D-modeling. I learned how to ski. Yes, my hubster is a ski instructor – but it is always the instructors who express shock that we didn’t get divorced over the ordeal! I have to say my hubster is super duper patient and such a great teacher. He didn’t mind hanging out with me night after night on the bunny hill while I practiced, surrounded by three or four year olds whipping by on tiny skis or snowboards.

Speaking of them wee toddlers skiing, they were a huge inspiration to my learning how to ski. I see these cute little things bundled up, flying down the hill. If they fall or crash, they get right back up. No fear. No complaints. Don’t give a shit if it’s cold af, snot running down their little nosies.

More often than not, I see a small class of wee todds coming down a blue run while I’m going up the chairlift. I would talk myself into going down the same run, only to regret it as soon as I had gone beyond the point of no return.

I didn’t have the happiest of childhood. Now, I yearn to live like a child. To embrace that innocence of having no fear, of never having been defeated, of not feeling tired, of not having been told “you can’t do it”…. I want to live life with a clean slate. My mother did not give me that, but I choose to give it to myself.

I feel (hope) that the days of hatin’ on the monsters are over. I don’t want to waste another second thinking about “if only they had…” I need to live my life. Everything they never taught me as a parent, I will now teach myself.

I don’t want to be bound by the constraints of the society.

I don’t want to live by what’s socially acceptable and what’s not.

I want to approach the world with this fierce, unapologetic curiosity of a child.

The way I see it, we are never too old for anything.

I get it, we get hurt along the way. Shit happens. Somewhere along the journey, we learn and hold onto fear, to pre-brace for the falls. But we mustn’t forget to live life! Shit happens, deal with what you got as best you can, and that’s the best any of us can do.


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New year, new rant

It’s been nearly two years since I posted anything here! I apologize for my disappearance. Well, many many many things have taken place in the last 700+ days. Lots of happy moments, some very disappointing ones and some infuriating ones – all in all, I’d like to think that I have grown from them all.

The biggest change being that I left construction, cuz my boss was (likely, remains) a sexist loser. He walked into my office one day and told me that I sucked at 3D visualizing, but it’s expected cuz I am a girl. This coming from my supposed mentor, my supervisor, the owner of the company, and worst of all, a father of a teenage daughter – it was most disappointing. I left that job. I filed a complaint with WorkSafeBC that got nowhere. Their procedures included speaking to my ex colleagues – are we surprised they denied that their boss was a sexist bully?! I tried to file a complaint with APEGBC (the Association of Professional Engineers and Geologists of BC) and was told that they only care about engineers who fail to comply ethically in a technical way (ie designing an unsafe building). What a pile of shit. How could this association which is supposed to hold members to their highest standards put up with men treating women unfairly? Quoting their code of ethics #7: Conduct themselves with fairness, courtesy and good faith towards clients, colleagues and others, give credit where it is due and accept, as well as give, honest and fair professional comment. If the association does not (want to) acknowledge such happenings, then why is it even part of the code??

It was definitely a low point in my life – I even donated all my codes / reference material and thought I was saying goodbye to construction for good! People love to talk about gender equality, how it’s come such a long way since women could vote, etc. But really? A woman only needs to work in construction a few days to see how backwards this industry alone remains. It is mostly still run by 60/70+ year olds, who have mentored the up-and-coming generation of mostly men. I guess I can only hope that the world out there is generally bigger on gender equality, cuz… from my personal experience, construction certainly isn’t.

When I was 23 and fresh out of school, guys on site or in the shop catcalling… old men calling me “honey” or “sweetheart” didn’t faze me one bit. I was too young and too naive to even think about wage inequality. I was like, “bring it on! I am ready to show you how I will kick ass in construction and earn your respect!” Maybe it’s my bad luck, maybe it’s my glass-half-empty attitude.. I just haven’t worked somewhere that I truly felt respected. Not to mention having a mentor. So, all these years later, my career is in shambles. I have left construction twice now, only to realize that I miss it whenever I am out of it. I miss the efficiency of the industry (no one wants to pay for a crane or a whole crew on site doing nothing, not even a day), everyone’s common goal is to get the damn thing built as efficiently, on budget, on time as possible.

When I first walked away from the monsters (parents), I became very black and white. I demanded it from self and those around me. Needless to say, that does not bode well in a work environment (and I am thankful for friends who have put up with me and remain by my side). It’s not to say I regret leaving the job with the sexist boss. It’s just that I understand now that I cannot wage battles everywhere. It’s nearly damned impossible to find friends who share (can put up with) my values and ideals and moral compass, work is certainly not the place to do so.

In the job following the sexist boss, I walked into a tech start up (oooh, sounds like an awesome work place, right?!) ruled by an evil queen. I saw something unfair taking place at work, spoke up about it, and got threatened by said evil queen and HR, who was the queen’s pet. It opened my eyes that unfairness, corruption, fcked up politics, ass-kissing, sexism – all this shittiness exist across industries. My new conclusion is that construction is not the only sucky-ballz industry. My silly, innocent brain thought that I would find bliss outside of it. I guess some things we just need to learn on our own.

So, I am writing this entry as a jobless person. Trying to get back into construction. One of my new year’s resolutions is to “Be Positive!” A good friend recently told me that my general tendency is to see things in a negative light, while she is the exact opposite. In fact, she said she is so positive that she is unable to see / feel negatively overall! So this is my #1 challenge in this new year. I am training myself to see the glass as half-full all the time!

I guess I am lucky that my brain seems to have a fairly high capacity of blocking out shitty experience. Only this time, I have lived through it, allowed myself to be present and feel the sadness, rage, disappointment, etc. I have learnt to recognize my feelings, remind self that my feelings do not rule over me and will pass. And now, I am ready to move on.

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Pet peeve @work.

When I fill the kettle at work and put it to a boil, how is it that my coworkers think it’s OK to use up all the hot water?! They won’t even refill it even though my mug is right beside the kettle! Blasphemy!!! Such inconsiderate people I work with! I always refill the kettle when it’s getting close to empty, and I don’t even mind making hot water for everyone. But can’t they see my empty mug sitting there, obviously in line for some hot water? Haven’t they realized that hot water always magically appears in the kitchen?! Do they think Genie works in our office too?

If everyone would just be a little bit less selfish, who knows, the world could be a better place.


Can equality exist?

Most of you have likely seen this French short film through some form of social media: it flips women’s and men’s roles and let men get a feel of what it’s like to be women. If you haven’t already seen it, I invite you to check it out. It’s worth the 10 minutes.

Some of the events which struck me as really ridiculous – ie. effective for men to witness in this light, were the day home care-giver (dude) sporting the headdress, and the sexual assault victim and his experience at the police station. I was sexually assaulted by my freaking ancient 65+ year old neighbour a few years ago.  It was the most awkward and uncomfortable thing when the policeman showed up to my apartment to ask me questions.

I feel like being a woman is an everyday battle. We don’t have to bring up “rape culture” to stir up a discussion. Let’s talk about income disparity. Are men proven to be smarter, more hard working, more career-focused? Is it because they are not the ones having to give birth, therefore usually not the ones taking a year off to care for new borns? Are women paying for the biological make-up and functionality of our bodies? The top-earning (CEOs) men in Canada bring home an average of $2 mil, while the top-earning women in Canada bring home an average of $500k. 

What about toys for children? Have you walked into Toys”R”Us? Why is it that the girls aisles are pink, and the boys aisles are full of colors? Are we conditioning and perpetuating the next generation to repeat what we are going through? Did you know the first talking Barbie said “Math is hard!”?? Is it interesting (or disgusting?) that girls have a greater selection of toys that don’t require any skills of putting any parts together, maybe besides stickers? While boys get to exercise their brains by putting together Lego, robots, and cars? Is that why in college/university, the number of young women makes up less than 15-20% of most engineering classes? I graduated 10 years ago. I just attended an industry and students mixer last night, and I don’t quite see a break in this trend.

Why is it that generation after generation, women feel the need to show off their bodies, get photographed half or completely naked for magazines? And then we demand to be respected?! Well, no wonder men think of us as sex objects.

It is very tiring to fight an uphill battle every day. What can I do? How can I help to bring about some positive change for women? Should I simply accept that women are the sensitive, nurturing ones, the care givers of homes, who will always make less money than our male counterparts? Should I accept that equality is not meant to exist..??

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Looney bin & crazies

It’s OK to admit it. You think only “crazies” end up in the “looney bin.” That’s what I thought, too – until I landed my ass in there.

What I remember most vividly about the psych. ward is that the doors lock behind you. No one goes in or out unless you’re let in by the nurses, visitors included. There was always one or two patients who hung around the doors, trying to follow visitors or the meal-delivery staff out. At times, the nurses had to call for the help of security; and those would be the most exciting times in the ward. For the most part, the ward was drama free and quiet.

I had envisioned there to be lots of “colorful” characters, but it was quite the contrary. To my relief, most of everyone suffered from severe depression and anxiety issues. Just like me. A dad with young kids who got laid off and couldn’t find stable work, anxiety and low self esteem paralyzed him; a retired mom with grown children who was constantly anxious because her husband had a bad temper; a young man who got into a work related accident on a job site that changed his personality, then turned suicidal…. and I was diagnosed with severe depression, anxiety disorder and post traumatic stress disorder (more commonly known in short as PTSD) (thank you, mother monster!!)

The last few years, I felt too embarrassed or ashamed to even talk about this (besides the point that hardly anyone knows anything about mental health and often dished out stupid advice like “why can’t you just be happy?”) There’s simply so much misunderstanding (lack of knowledge) and bad stigma attached. Unless someone in your immediate family or you suffer from mental disorders, most of us don’t understand or care to find out about it. So, in writing and sharing my personal experience, I hope that at least the small audience here will now be a bit more aware and be able to spread the word.

Mental health illness is very much like a very bad cold which won’t go away. It can be hereditary, an imbalance of chemicals, triggered by a significant and traumatizing event, or all of the above. So, next time someone confides in you that they have depression, please don’t say stupid shits like “Well, at least you have a good job, or at least your bf is nice… ” Seriously, if it was so simple, we wouldn’t need medication. Simply say that you’re there to listen or to be supportive will suffice.

Don’t judge anyone unless you’ve walked a mile in others’ shoes. True story. I learnt this valuable lesson when I got my goodie bag of mental disorders.