Amidst changing oceans, a new life awakens through wanderlust


Language Use and Its Fucking Relationships

Before I even get started I already know my mother is going to say, “Watch your fuckin’ mouth your grandparents read this!” Yes, I know, thanks for the warning mom.

Today as I was leaving work I had this fantastical conversation in my head. Fucking marvelous! What was it? The correlation between language use and its fucking relationships. It was a pretty brilliant conversation and now I need to recall what I was thinking three hours ago, so shit let’s try and recall some of that.

We all speak to people in various ways depending on the person, the place, or the situation. I, myself, am very polite at school while teaching. I watch my mouth and I tell the kids to watch theirs when I hear them swearing in English. It’s like talking to a person in a really quiet office at the town hall. I’m not gonna go in and be like, “Excuse me, what the fuck do I do with this form?” That is what I’m saying in my head, but really I will say, “Excuse me, what am I supposed to do with this form?” In a nice pleasant voice. We’ve been trained to talk in certain ways in certain places to certain people: mostly strangers.

In reality we censor ourselves to a great deal when we meet new people as we aren’t sure how they are going to react. If they are older we will be a little more careful not to swear in front of them in case it might upset them, like my grandparents, who rarely ever swear. And I have plenty of people I know who I don’t swear with, but chances are if you aren’t old and I’m not swearing in front of your face, we aren’t good friends. Why? Because I censor myself with people I just can’t relate to, or know that I should watch my fucking mouth in front of.

Censoring one’s self is a really worth while skill when you want to put someone in their place but don’t want to shoot yourself in the foot. Life’s a bitch that way. How does that self-censoring disappear? For new acquaintances, I find that as time goes by when I’m talking to them I might say, “What the fuck?” or “That’s fucked.” to something.  Then I’ll move on and realize I’m an asshole who swore in front of people who might not particularly enjoy it and go back to being a self-censoring machine. I hate self-censoring. It’s fucking tiring as hell and I’m utter shit at it.

Which brings us to the next stage, if you aren’t old, you aren’t an acquaintance, and you aren’t offended, you must have moved into the new friend territory. Which means I can casually swear in front of you without thinking too much of whether it offends you or not. Because at this point if you don’t like it, we probably aren’t friends. Only people who can handle a blunt f-slinging person will still want to be in my company. I’m completely cool with that. These are people I consider good friends we probably can swear in all its glory, “Fuck this.” “That fucking asshole.” “Where the fuck is it?” But most likely in this circle my lovely f-bombing mouth has probably actually worn off on my friends.  And now they swear more, but not nearly as much as my dumbass does on a daily basis. Sorry about that friends.

Then we move on to the new category. My swearing sailor buddies. A friend I haven’t seen in a few years ( you know who you are, xoxo) and I used to greet each other for fun like, “Hey, bitch.” “Hey, asshole.” There isn’t too many people who I can greet with that open foul mouth of mine without the other party being offended. What a great time to be had between fellow f-bombers. And then I really have to hand the cake to my best friend back home. The two of us together unleash a sea of unregulated shit on the regular. The f-bomb must adorn a sentence or its like some kind of unheard nonsense someone is trying to sell ya. What the fuck is wrong with this shit?! Best part is niether of us get offended by the word, fuck. It is like the perfect word. You can use it as any part of speech in any part of the sentence and it is fabulous at emphasizing the point home.  Like they say two peas in a fucking pod. We fucking truly are.

Language is a really fun way to interact with others. And it forms a part of our personality. I wouldn’t be Nina if I didn’t drop an f-bomb on the regular. My blunt ass would be like who the fuck are you? Where the fuck did Nina go? That bitch was supposed to still be here. The thing is to some it’s offensive language, if you deem it that way. It also depends on who says it and in what tone of voice, because it could actually be an endearing term it just depends on the person. Now maybe someone will go and blame the damn media, magazines, or music. Fuck that shit. I taught it to myself. I think this way on a daily basis. You know like walking across the damn cross walk and some car thinks it’s their turn. “Its a fucking red light.” I’ll say out loud to the car. Hey, we all gotta be ourselves. If I talked polite all the time it’d be like I lost my damn self somewhere.

Sadly, while learning other languages I haven’t been able to master that side of my personality. The language I attained the most fluency in is Korean and I still can’t convey myself the same way I would in English. I can’t be the sassy, sarcastic, f-bombing  Nina that I am. So I come off as more polite in Korean than in English, and that is a damn shame. I need that feisty personality of mine to shine. Not being able to shine in one language as I do in my mother tongue makes me realize how much of ourselves are censored even in our own tongue.

To my grandparents if you read this far, sorry for the f-bombs, but that’s me. I’m an f-bombing fool and I’m cool with that. Not only am I cool with that I no longer censor myself as much in front of my parents or grandparents. Now I’m not ever going to swear at them out of respect, but I will swear in my everyday way without apology. Because this is me. I have no reason to hide who the fuck I am and how I fucking speak about shit, because then I wouldn’t be authentic to the people who mean the most to me. So next time you are speaking to someone ask yourself, am I being my authentic self with someone? Am I censoring myself? And if I am is a part of me lost to this person?

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Mocha Diaries: Why Don’t I Put Myself First?

My hair is always a hot mess

I always ask myself this question: Why don’t I put myself first? I hear from others all the time to learn to put myself first. That is always easier said than done and there is always a reason as to why I haven’t done it yet. One problem I have realized from having low self-esteem is that when you don’t value yourself you try to find redemption from others. I need a way to redeem my self-worth and so if I do everything I can for others, maybe I can become a better person. I know for a  fact that doing things for others rarely helps me unless its something I truly want to do.  Continue reading


Beyond the Fence

I always wondered how we form our political beliefs. I realized for me it always stems from those closest to us or someone we have interacted with on a regular basis. The good old dream is to live in a house with a white picket fence. The fence is really symbolic of a lot of things if you dive into it. It draws a clear line of what is mine and what is everyone else’s. It alerts others by letting them know you are not welcome here. Continue reading

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Mocha Diaries: Why do I give up easily?


Ever met a person that persistently can’t make ends meet? Or they just get so close and say, “Nope! I don’t think I can do this!”  It’s funny a lot of people give me praise for learning languages, or traveling, etc, but most people don’t realize that I don’t consider myself successful in them.

Wait, hold up. Are you trying to beat yourself up, Nina? Are you talking down to yourself? Well to some it may seem like I’m talking myself down, but in reality I’m just trying to come to grips with why in my eyes I give up easily.

Continue reading