False Starts & Indefinable Fresh Beginnings

False starts and fresh beginnings. We've all had our fair share of those.

Just when I think that things are finally falling into place, life shifts and I'm thrown against a corner with the breath knocked out of me and my heart making a break for it. The problem is, my heart's got nowhere to go. The exact direction has yet to be determined.

The words escape me. What was I thinking? Why did I say that? I can't take it back. Did he really mean what he said? The part about me being a "worthwhile challenge"? I can't for the life of me, fathom why.

All I did was paint the world the way I saw it. The way I dream it, sing it. Live it. The way I twist my doubts, wring them in my hands and set them free, turning them into hope. Hope for the better, hope for the right answers, hope for the possibilities, hope for the future. All this, my odd and misplaced philosophy. Yet I never once considered myself to be a philosopher. I'm just someone who likes to think.

Am I really that strange? Am I really that crazy for thinking that I can live my life outside the confines of a  black-and-white box? Am I foolish to believe that I have the freedom to choose which combination of right ideas will be the hues that color my world? Am I naive to believe that I am the master of my doubt, that I can bend my doubt like a helium balloon and set it free so that it does not stomp on my free-spirit?

Sometimes he talks a mile a minute, and I'm still hung over the first words that left his lips.

I don't know why I bother so much.

Arguing in circles. There's a reason why they're pointless. You forget why you cared so much in the first place. Taking a stand and then you forget your purpose as you trip over the semantic wires you used to tie up your argument. You then end up tying your own tongue with words you hope you won't have to eat later.

In the middle of washing dishes, in the midst of reorganizing my bookshelves, in the hours I spent at the laundromat watching the clothes spin in repeated circles, I felt it: that first inkling, that indefinable emotion, the way my heart slowed down for just a tiny beat the moment the thought surfaced in my mind: it bothered me.

It bothers me that I care.

It bothers me that I'm even writing this, wondering why he's even got me thinking about questions that I thought I answered long ago based on the premise that you can't always ask the same question twice. Situations may be similar, but there will always be the nuances, the subtleties that people often tend to look over and forget. There are black-and-white issues, but there aren't always clear-cut answers. The circumstances determine the form the answers will take, so I have come to believe, and continue to believe despite his prior efforts to change my mind.

Why did he want to change my mind so badly anyway? It bothers me to think that he cares about what I think. It bothers me even more to think that I could be completely off the mark in making this assumption.

I don't want to think that this is another one of those false starts, another one of those foolish moments when my imagination usurps my reason. It's a scary thought, one that leaves me awake at night, awaiting the next day with breathless anticipation.

Do dare give this thought, this breathlessness, weight? Do I dare utter the words out loud, write it down on paper, record it into this media for all the world to see?

I'm not sure if I will just yet.

But I'm not going to cross my fingers or twiddle my thumbs while the hours pass. Instead, I think I'll reorganize my closet. Read a book. Take a walk. Write some more crappy poetry until I finally get the words right. Maybe then I'll have some more answers, whatever form they shall take. Maybe then I'll finally step up with the courage to say the very words I dare not speak.

I'd like to believe that it's just the sun rising, gently brushing new colors onto a fresh beginning. Whatever this is, whatever it turns out to be, I hope it's all for the better.

Maybe it won't even bother me at all anymore, and I won't mind so much that I care. This should be interesting.

Leave the Pieces So I Can Breathe

It's been a month.

I can't spend the rest of my days wondering why he flaked out again and hasn't called, despite the message he'd sent saying that he "didn't forget" about me. Life would have been a lot simpler if he hadn't told me that and kept asking me about my schedule. It would have been a whole lot easier to forget him, as my friends have been suggesting that I do. I can't blame him for being busy, but at the same time I really wish that he wasn't so confusing.

If he still wants to see me, then he has my number. Until then, I don't want to hold my breath any longer.

So I'm going to assume it's headed nowhere, cut my losses, and move on. I've got other things to worry about, anyway.

Here are the obligatory (somewhat relevant) sad songs:

I'll be fine, as long as I'm able to breathe. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. At least I've gained some perspective on the matter.

Now that that's done, on to actual priorities...

And So It Goes, This Soldier Knows That Senior Year Won't Be An Easy One. But It Can Be Done.

This summer was both pretty awesome and productive. I hope yours was just as fruitful and enjoyable.

I finally finished my internship as the research assistant to the director of evaluation and program improvement. I had a blast working there, and I feel that I've learned so much. I think I'll definitely pursue educational psychology for my master's degree (and hopefully, Ph.D). It seems that the chips are slowly falling into place...

Location: Islands of Adventure

My family and I also went to Florida for a one-week vacation. Though I wanted so badly to go to Disney World to revisit my childhood memories, it wasn't part of the budget for this year. So instead we went to Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure. "The Return of the Mummy" ride and the Harry Potter coasters were AWESOME. They left me exhilarated and breathless (my asthma notwithstanding). I don't have any phobias, but I'm glad to say that I've survived riding on several roller coasters in one day and lived to tell the tale. I'm definitely riding a coaster again when I get the chance!

Swimming at Westgate Vacation Villas

We also went swimming each day at the resort, which helped soothe my asthma a little. My sister and I figured out how to float on our backs and swim backwards (sort of). I'm glad to say that I'm no longer afraid of the water. But I'm still sticking to the shallow end... I like knowing that I can just stand up immediately if I ever feel like my lungs are filling up with water. Breathing underwater is another skill I have yet to master, it seems. Overall, I'd say that the exercise was well worth it.

My mother would beg to differ, though. She's still horrified at the fact that she no longer has the milky white complexion that most Filipina women would die to have. To which I just shrug a shoulder and say, "Your skin manufactured melanin in response to exposure to the sun's ultraviolet rays because we were at a location near the Earths' equator. It's natural. Get over it." Beauty's only skin-deep, and if you're going to nitpick about your skin's coloration for vanity purposes, then I feel sorry for you. There's more to life than skin-whitening products. Like finishing your bachelor's degree.

School started on the last Friday of August. Although it's already been two weeks into the semester, I'm not exactly sure how busy I'll actually be, since I'm now the new Psi Chi secretary at my college. With that added duty in addition to my academics and my active involvement with the International Order of the Rainbow for Girls, I think I'm going to have my hands full for the year. Not that I'm complaining. Better to lead a productive life than to bum around wasting away your skills talents. Plus, books and Rainbow keeps me grounded and level-headed even during my craziest moments. Even during those crazy moments when I'm wondering about that someone and acting like an irrational goober. Ah, well.

In other news...

Getting that story down on paper...

I'm sad to say that unless you count all the statistical reports, training manuals, and literature reviews I've worked on for my internship, I haven't really done much writing. I haven't touched my manuscript in months because I've been so busy at the office this summer. Perhaps between the madness of my potentially stir-crazy senior year, I might be able to find time to get back to penning my characters' journeys. Time management is going to be one big bugger in the coming months. Let's hope time doesn't kick me in the butt, shall we?

I'll try to update this blog when I get back with the aforementioned brief book reviews and maybe some thoughts about my favorite SyFy shows. Until then, here's my summer 2011 playlist. The music featured in it are pretty much songs that describe my current state of mind (sort of) and my overall outlook for the summer and beyond.

Hope you enjoy it and make your own loud music. In no particular rank or order:

1. Dear California - Vanessa Carlton




This song came from Vanessa's new album, Rabbits on the Run. There's definitely something different about her music in her latest compilation. The hollow, indie-rock sound present throughout the album gives an ambiance of nostalgia. It gives Vanessa another perspective from which she can showcase her voice and musical abilities. "Dear California" reminds me a bit of The Beatles "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." I guess it's because of the harmony of voices, the guitars' upbeat tempo, and the light-hearted piano accompanying the guitars. I like it. It's simple, catchy, and memorable -- perfect for relaxing on those balmy summer evenings. Hope Vanessa will release more music. :)

2. Loud Music - Michelle Branch




I absolutely LOVE that she's back and making more loud music after starting her own family. She must also be a cool mom. I'd love to babysit little Owen for her if she's ever around New York. Michelle's just fantastic. I loved her country music, and I don't even listen to country that often! Anyway, just like Anna Nalick and Vanessa Carlton, it's great to see that Michelle's back writing and sharing her awesome tunes with us.

3. Summertime - Michelle Branch




Michelle sounds even better performing it live with just an acoustic guitar. :)

The simplicity of this song makes it so sweet to listen to. The heartfelt lyrics and mellow cheerful tune speak volumes of nostalgia, longing, and light-hearted wondering. I can't help but fall in love with the chorus of this song because it invokes a feeling of sweet inspiration whenever I'm cooking dinner or cleaning. There's something about it that transports me to a different emotional state. It makes me wonder if this is what it's like to feel happy with the way life's unfolding, while also thinking about someone you love who may or may not be with you to share that moment of peaceful contentment.

4. All You Wanted - Michelle Branch




This is a throwback, but it's my all-time favorite song by Michelle. "So lonely inside, so busy out there, and all you wanted was somebody who cares..."

Seriously, who can't relate to those lines? They strike a chord within me whenever I listen to this song. I'm reminded of all the times when I've wanted to cheer up a friend, to hug them and tell someone that it's okay, they'll get through whatever rough patch it is that they're experiencing. Even more so, I'm reminded of all those times when I've been down and needed someone willing enough to listen to me or just to hold my hand.

5. Lasso - Phoenix




Ah, and now we arrive at "Lasso." Every time I hear this song, I feel like getting up and jumping around like a madwoman. Of course, doing that in the middle of my morning commute on a cramped train probably won't do me any good except win me some dirty looks on the subway. I'll just content myself with tapping my feet, I guess.

6. Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.) - Katy Perry




If you're a faithful follower of this blog, I know what you must be thinking. I know this looks bad, especially since I've stated in previous posts how much this person annoys me with her airhead demeanor and her screeching in "Firework." For this particular song, though, I'll make an exception. As much as I hate to admit this, I actually LIKE "Last Friday Night." Ditto with "Teenage Dream." They're the only two Katy Perry songs for which I'll make exceptions.

You have to admit, the music video for "Last Friday Night" is pretty fucking hilarious. (Thank God Rebecca Black didn't sing a single note!) The nonchalance of the song immediately takes my mind off of my worries and makes me want to go with my friends on a fun girls' night out. Not that we'd do anything illegal, of course...

7. Super Bass (Nicki Minaj Cover) - Julie Anne San Jose




I also never thought that I would ever like a Nicki Minaj song, but it turns out that I do. I decided to post this version of Nicki's "Super Bass" because Julie Anne San Jose has a powerful voice and does an amazing job of covering it. Plus, we share a similar name! (She's Julie Anne... whereas I'm Julianne, ahaha.) Not only can she sing, but she can rap, too! I'd like to think that I'm a decent singer, but I sure as heck can't rap even if my life depended on it. This girl, though, she's got it all. I hope I can find more of her music. Her voice is just amazing. :)

8. Speak Slow - Tegan and Sara





No particular reason... I just love the paradox in the chorus. Plus, it's fun to sing along to!

"When your love lets you go, you only want love more even when love was not what you were looking for. Speak slow, where do we go, ah ah? Where do we go, ah ah? Where do we go, oh?..."

9. Carousel - Vanessa Carlton




Here's another one of Vanessa's songs from Rabbits on the Run. The harmony of voices and the fluidity of the piano create a happy, hopeful melody that reminds you of time's ability to heal old wounds. Many often  say that life is one crazy roller coaster. Perhaps a carousel is a better symbol to use to represent life. Not only does it spin around, signifying life's cyclical nature, but the animals on the carousel ascend and descend in much the same way that one experiences bouts of sadness and joy. During the entire ride, the music carries you through the journey, just as time carries you throughout your life.

10. Soldier - Ingrid Michaelson




I've heard of Ingrid Michaelson before, of course, and though I liked "Take Me the Way I Am," I never thought to give her other songs a shot... Until I watched an episode of Lifetime's "Drop Dead Diva" and got hooked by the song at the end of the show. So I looked her up on iTunes, and I ended up downloading her newest album, Everybody, in its entirety. I only regret not listening to her songs sooner.

I think "Soldier" is my theme song (for now). It pretty much summarizes my attitude toward life -- that no matter what happens, always keep your chin up. Things will work themselves out eventually. You just have to step up and be brave.

"But how do I know if I'll make it through?
How do I know? Where's the proof in you?

And so it goes, this soldier knows the battle with the heart isn't easily won. 
And so it goes, this soldier knows the battle with the heart isn't easily won...

But it can be won..."

 

 That's it for the playlist and for this post. Until next time, dear friends. Keep braving the battle with the heart. Whatever the outcome, always remember to keep it real.

This is yours truly,
J. Day

Evaluation: Ascertaining the Value of Something

I feel like most of my energy's been zapped out by the summer heat. Not that I'm complaining (much). I've been spending most of my days inside an air-conditioned office building. Today was actually the one day I wore a summer dress and forgot to stuff a sweater into my bag for later use. So you can just imagine me getting goosebumps and shivering while trying to keep track of the name of the last participant whose attendance information I've entered into the database.

With my internship well under way, I'd say that this summer's been really productive so far. My days thus far consist of entering data into the organization's database, creating statistical reports and tables, and assisting my supervisor in training the coordinators and youth advisors on how to use the database and create reports. My supervisor is really nice and incredibly helpful, and it turns out that she also studied psychology in college. I never even knew that there was such a thing as evaluation research until I started this internship. It's a LOT of work.

Working with a database sounds exciting at first... until you actually sit down and force yourself to be patient with your eyes straining to follow the rows on the Excel spreadsheets while clicking back and forth among multiple windows. You really need to have the patience for it. Sometimes it can feel like mind-numbing work, but it's well worth it. Evaluating the efficacy of a social service program is vital to understanding how that program can better serve and meet the needs of their often under-served target populations (such as at-risk youth). Evaluation research is tricky, though, as there is no specific standard against which you can compare your program's outcomes. Sure, you can use SAT scores, TABE scores, GED attainment, and high school graduation rates as various measures of participant progress and success, but you still need to compare these scores to a set of standard values. You as a stakeholder/program director/evaluator have to determine what that standard should be. Sometimes, you just have to work with what you have and decide what's best for the program and the people you're serving in that program. It's gotten me more interested in actually pursuing a master's degree in educational psychology, which would allow me to learn more about program evaluation and how to apply statistics in improving how these programs deliver their services.

I never thought I'd be involved in doing such work, since I've always struggled with math. To this day, I still depend on my calculator as the arithmetical extension of my brain's central executive functioning. So what the fudge am I doing working with numbers in statistics?

To tell you quite truthfully: I don't know. Working with that uncertainty, though, hasn't deterred me from wetting my feet into trying something I never thought I'd be doing because of my slight numbers anxiety. But I'm ready and willing to learn.

Just recently I attended a leadership training seminar with the girls from my local IORG assembly. One of the guest lecturers who shared his knowledge on public speaking said something striking:

"Happiness is not in liking what you already like to do, but in learning to like what you have to do."

It took me a while to let the words sink in my head. I was sitting there going like, "HUH?!" in my frazzled state of mind. Liking what you have to do? But after thinking about it for a bit longer, I found it to be true. You just have to breathe. No matter what you end up doing, don't ever forget to breathe. Then take one step at a time, no matter how tiny the distance to your next footstep. Every victory counts -- yes, even the tiny ones you thought were measly attempts. They count, too. You can't conquer a challenge if you don't first divide it.

Anyway, enough with the metaphors. Sometimes you just have to try something in order to get the hang of it, much like analyzing data through statistical means. I didn't like doing it in my stats class and in my experimental social psychology class, but I stuck with it. Surprisingly, I got an A- in stats and an A in that experimental psych class. I wouldn't trade those months of sleepless nights and stressful freak-outs over deadlines for anything in the world. Not even if you bribed me with lifetime supplies of mouth-watering cheese puffs and addicting veggie straws. Not even if you had the magical powers to make Henry Cavill fall madly in love with geeky ol' me. I still wouldn't trade any of it.

Right now, I'm still exploring the possibilities. My possibilities. I know for sure that I want to pursue a master's degree in psychology. Which particular area of psychology I should specialize in is the million dollar question that I've been struggling to figure out lately. Clinical psych? Developmental psych? Educational psych? Forensic psychology? They all seem so fascinating. Choosing just 1 area to study strikes me as a daunting task. I'll be a college senior in the upcoming semester. If I want to get a clear picture of what my future looks like, I'd better get moving. For now, I think I'm going to apply to a couple of masters programs in educational psychology and maybe to a program in mental health counseling or social work as my back-ups. I'm going to have to set up another appointment with the career development services offices at my college and with one of the graduate school advisors. So much to do in so little time...

And so few breaths to do all of it. Lately I've been suffering from a sore throat, slight dizziness, and fits of coughing that keep me up at night. It's annoying and it hurts. Word to the wise: don't drink icy water during a summer heat wave. Your throat may seize up with soreness and plague you with a week-long unpretty coughing fit.

I didn't go to my good friend Liliana's 21st birthday bash last night because I couldn't breathe and my mother accompanied me to the ER. I didn't even go with my sisters and the other members of my youth organization to do our scheduled fundraising event today because I felt so weak when I woke up this morning. Though the scratchy soreness in my throat is gone, I still feel something heavy blocking my windpipe. It builds up to the point that I'm coughing vigorously, so much so that sometimes I feel like throwing up. Just a couple of days ago, I threw up my breakfast because I was coughing so much. The ER physician assistant at the local hospital said that I had an upper respiratory viral infection and that I would just have to treat the symptoms of a sore throat with cough drops and my dizziness with acetaminophen. He might as well have just told me to simply deal with it, because I've already been eating so many cough drops, drinking hot herbal tea, and taking Tylenol whenever I feel dizzy with a headache. I need to get better soon... I can't deal with the painful coughing fits in the middle of the night. I can't deal with this ridiculous pain, PERIOD.

Plus, it would totally seem flaky if I cancelled on a certain person. On the other hand, if I show up and I'm still feeling like my trachea's closing up, then that would be bad. I don't want him to get sick on account of me. He doesn't deserve that.

Yeah, you guessed it -- I finally asked him if he wanted to hang out sometime. Of course, that was before I developed this stupid upper respiratory problem (God, if you're out there, please let me be 100% cured by Monday!).

Not that we have a set day of when we're hanging out. I don't even know if he's still into the idea because he seems so busy. I didn't even think he'd agree to it in the first place. He seems eager to meet up and told me he'd let me know when he'd be free, but I don't know... I guess we'll just have to see what happens. If everything works out, then great!  "There may be something there that wasn't there before," as Mrs. Potts from Beauty & the Beast would say.

But if by chance things don't work out... then whatever, I guess. I wouldn't know how to evaluate whether taking a chance on him would really be worth it in the end. The way I see it, you can't lose what you were never sure you had in the first place. I'd like to think he's worth the brain power and the effort, but in the end... that's up to him.

Anyway, I still have to grad school to worry about and a book to finish writing. Regardless of what happens, this girl's braving the next day as if it was her last. (Still crossing my fingers, though!)

Poor flowers.

More updates soon. By the way, did I mention that I read some really cool books lately (just finished I Was Told There'd Be Cake and am now reading The Hunger Games)? Or that I'll be going with my family on a five-day vacation in DisneyWorld in August? No? Then I shall cover these topics in my next posts!

Until next time, stay healthy and keep your chin up, dear friends. You might find a wisp happiness where you least expect it...

Like in a bowl of yummy, hot, comforting chicken noodle soup and soothing honey herbal tea. :)

A Picnic, Promenade, and Parade

Last Friday, after a week of running around doing errands, I was finally able to relax and have some fun. Some of my high school friends and I met up at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. They were a little late because for some odd reason, my friend's key got stuck in the door of her house and they couldn't leave until the locksmith came to fix it. As I was waiting for them, I just sat in the nearby park and tried to enjoy the nice weather. The birds there were kind of funny to watch. There were a few little sparrows and two robins looking for food. One robin was lucky enough to find a worm, and the others were chasing after it. The early bird gets the worm, after all.
Not long after, I saw Liliana walking through the park while I sat there on the bench waiting. It was great to finally see her again after what must have been a year. Together we went inside the Brooklyn Museum of Art while waiting for the others to arrive. There was a graduation ceremony going on on the third floor, so we didn't get to see the European paintings. On the other hand, we saw this really elaborate and fascinating installation artwork called "The Dinner Party" by Judith Chicago, an iconic piece in feminist art.

The banquet table and the heritage panels in the adjacent hall pay tribute to over 1,000 historical women figures, from the ancient goddesses of old religions and myths, right down to twentieth-century contemporary feminists and their works. Every aspect of "The Dinner Party," right down to the hand-painted decorative plates and the shape of the dinner hall, alludes to the power of the feminine mystique. It was amazing and awe-inspiring to be in such a place, and somehow I felt connected to all the women in the past who have paved the way for the rest of us to become empowered and active members of our society. It felt sacred. The conversation that Lily and I had regarding our plans for our futures while standing in that space made the experience that much more powerful to me.

Judy Chicago (American, b. 1939).  
The Dinner Party (Mary Wollstonecraft and Sojourner Truth place settings), 1974–79.

Our other friends finally came about an hour later, and so we made our way to the Botanic Garden. We had a blast that afternoon in the garden, just enjoying the beautiful scenery and the fresh summer air. One of the security guards tried flirting and hitting on one of my friends. He singled us out for having blanket out on the grass (even though there was a mother with her kids with a bigger blanket laid out) and then asked us if we'd like to take a tour of the rose garden ("That must be why you lovely ladies came to the Botanic Garden, right? To see the roses?" he asked). We exchanged amused smiles as Renee panicked and kept shaking her head, looking too freaked out to tell the guard that she wasn't interested. So Liliana took the lead and refused for her while the rest of us tried to hold back our laughter until the guard finally left us alone. The whole thing was pretty hilarious, since we weren't even interested in going to the rose garden, let alone on a tour of one. I mean, what's there to take a tour of? It's a garden, full of ROSES. Go figure. Though, I have to give the guy a little credit. As cheesy as his lines were, at least he tried.

Actually, the real reason we went to the Botanic Garden had absolutely nothing to do with seeing the pretty roses in full bloom. In fact, we went there just to sneak in contraband BBQ chicken drumsticks, rice rolls, and sandwiches, to play the word game Taboo, and to take random pictures of each other. The day grew more interesting as we all got into Pris's car and tried to decide where we would eat for dinner. Generally, we're a pretty indecisive, go-with-the-flow kind of bunch, so it took us about twenty minutes to finally make a decision.

We ended up going to an Indian restaurant in Brooklyn Heights called "Amin." The prices were affordable, the staff was welcoming, and the food was overall pretty good. Our waiter even offered us complementary chips, chutney, and a couple of other yummy sauces whose names escape me, ahaha. I just remember that one of the sauces tasted somewhat like sweet, fruity barbeque sauce and the other tasted like a cool and somewhat minty-sweet complement to the chutney's spiciness. I was so full from the banana fritters and samosas that I almost didn't have enough room for the mushroom shag I ordered as the entre. I would have ordered dessert, but we were all so full from the meal! If you're ever around Montague Street in Brooklyn Heights and are craving something different, definitely check out the affordable Indian cuisine at Amin restaurant. At least try their yummy, crispy samosas.

Later, we strolled down the Promenade and took pictures with the beautiful sunset-lit New York City skyline in the backdrop. We shared more inside jokes and talked about our views on relationships and life in general. As the day slowly wound down into night, I felt thankful. I got to spend a beautiful summer day with some of my closest friends and we all got to reconnect with each other again.

This is going to sound a little hokey, but I felt like I was at a crossroads in my life, what with that internship I have this summer, the prospect of becoming a college senior, and the somewhat-confusing-yet-exciting possibility of what could be either a good friendship or a blossoming romance with that certain someone (I hate thinking that maybe things will fizzle out over time).

Hanging out and laughing with my friends, though, helped me stop worrying so damn much about my own uncertainty about the future. In each of our own ways, we were all confused about life. Though we may have an idea of what we want to do in the future, we don't know if any of it will work out. The one faith that we all share is that things will work out eventually. No matter where we end up somewhere down this twisting and winding path that we call life -- even if we all end up cat ladies! -- at least we'll still have each other.

Sunday, June 5th was pretty interesting, to say the least. My mother, my sisters, and I marched in the Philippine Independence Day Parade, like we usually do every year, with Regal Court No.1 of the Order of the Amaranth (a masonic organization). I wasn't expecting the parade to be so crowded, since last year there didn't seem to be that many people, but man, was I wrong about that. I learned on that very same day that Jericho Rosales, a famous and talented (and incredibly good-looking!) actor from the Philippines was there at the parade and would be giving a live performance at the cultural festival. My sisters and I saw him in "Pangako Sa 'Yo" and the more recent drama "Green Rose" on TFC, so of course we had to try and see him. Together with our fellow Rainbow girl Camille, we linked arms and made our way through the super-congested crowds toward the stage and tried to get as close to the front as possible.

It was totally worth it, because we were less than twenty-five feet away from the stage and we got a close view of the performances and of Jericho's handsome, smiling face as he came on stage and sang. My sister and I kept screaming like a couple of excited fan-girls. I never I had it in me, but damn was I excited to see Echo perform! My sis and I even made jokes with each other, playfully arguing with each other that Jericho only had eyes for one of us, since he kept lingering in the corner of the stage which we were facing. Though it's foolish to even entertain the thought, I still maintain that Jericho was looking at me, ahaha.

Anyway, below is one of videos that I had my sister record on my iPod (she's an inch taller than me, haha) of one of the songs Jericho performed, "Change the World," originally by Eric Clapton. Jericho has pretty good vocals:




He even took a picture of the crowd on his phone and posted it on his Twitter. Try to spot my sister in there if you can -- she's the one wearing a pink long-sleeved sweater standing somewhere near his head on the far right of the picture, hehe.

I was standing right next to her, but you can't see me because the picture cuts off already. Oh well. It's enough that I got to see one of my favorite Filipino actors. I'm looking forward to next year's parade. I wish Jericho will be the special celebrity guest again, but that's probably unlikely, haha. We'll just have to see what happens.

As a Filipino and as an American, it's pretty confusing trying to figure out what the heck I'm supposed to be. Who am I? What is my identity? I'm actually of a mixed background -- my great grandfather on my mom's side (my Lola's father, to be exact) immigrated to the Philippines from China, and I have a great-grandmother on my dad's side who was half-Spanish and half-Filipino. So I look a little chinky-eyed and lighter-skinned for a Pinay. Yet I don't identify myself as being Chinese or Spanish. Ethnically, I'm a Filipina who happens to be mestiza. Culturally, I consider myself to be a New Yorker and then an American. I was born in Brooklyn, I live in Queens, and I go to school in Manhattan, so I identify most with being a New Yorker. I'm a New Yorker who happens to be of Filipino heritage.

It's only now that I'm trying to branch out and take a deeper look at my roots. I started out asking my parents what their lives were like growing up in Kalaoocan (my mom's hometown) and in Malabon (my dad's hometown), which are towns located near Manila. They'd tell me stories about their childhood -- my dad's would be more anecdotal, whereas my mom would use these stories as an opportunity to teach us something about Filipino values. Then I started watching Filipino soap operas, and it became easier to keep up with the shows once my mom finally decided to get the On-Demand package from TFC. I still find some of the shows a little too melodramatic for my own personal taste, but I guess the melodrama speaks volumes about the cultural mindset of Filipinos. Through the Asian literature classes I took at my college, especially the course "Philippine-American Literature," I learned how and why the Filipino culture and values are as complicated and as multi-layered as they are today. Then after watching a re-run episode of "Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations" on the Travel Channel, something inside me just kind of... sighed.

The Philippines somehow always gets passed over by Western writers and historians. I believe that I've already mentioned this in a previous post regarding how the Philippine-American War (or Philippine War of Independence, or the Philippine Insurrection, depending on who wrote the particular history book) is often skipped over in history classes. With such a deep, diverse mix of Chinese, Spanish, Malay, and American influences in the Philippines and in Philippine cuisine, you would think that the Philippines would surely be one of the countries featured in a food and travel show. The truth is that the Philippines is almost always skipped over, as some sort of anomalous funky mixture that few want to stick their hands into because it's so complicated and difficult to explain. With all the Southeast Asian countries that Anthony Bourdain has visited in previous episodes, it was about time that the multi-faceted, multi-cultural and dynamic flavors of the Philippines was represented in his food travels.

I felt some kind of connection toward the avid fan who persuaded Bourdain to finally continue his food travels in the Philippines. The fan was also a Filipino who was born and raised in New York (Long Island, actually), and he wanted to create a connection with his cultural roots. He's also had something of an identity crisis, just like me. It's not actually a crisis, really -- more like an intense longing, or a yearning than a crisis. We both yearned to learn more about our ethnic heritage and culture. We feel as though we're not fully Filipino and yet not fully American. Sure, we get the best of both worlds, but it's still weird to be standing in the middle. Filipinos, in my honest opinion, are like sponges -- super absorbent of other cultures and flavors, very malleable and adaptable, and above all, tough and resilient. It's a somewhat odd analogy, I know, but that's how I've come to think of my parents' homeland and its people. I like to think that it's a good thing; it means that we are able to adapt quickly to change as time moves its feet forward and the world shifts.

Anyway, whatever it is that you happen to be -- Asian, European, Native American, Hispanic, Black, Blue, Polka-dot or Zebra-striped -- I hope you also branch out and learn a thing or two. If you happen to be looking for your roots, I hope that you find rich, soulful soil somewhere.

Here's to happy summer adventures and personal discoveries, everyone! See you in the next post.

I'll leave you with a track from Anna Nalick's newly released "Broken Doll & Odds & Ends," a lovely song called "These Old Wings."

Oddities and Curiosity-filled 2011 Summer Plans

Ever since my last day of the Spring 2011 semester, I've had so many things running through my mind lately. The summer heat over Memorial Day weekend hasn't helped my brain functioning all that much, I'm afraid. Although I've been trying to catch up on sleep, I haven't had much luck. Not that anything's wrong. In fact, things seem to be going just fine...

I just hope I can keep up!

Anyway, I've been reading some of my older posts -- the ones from the past three years -- and I have to say that I sound a little different. Does this mean I'm growing as a writer, a blogger, and a critical thinker? Haha, I can't be sure.

Granted, I'm still that slightly awkward, glasses-and-braces-wearing girl with a twisted imagination and a weird sense of humor. I'll always be that nerdy bookworm who reads random titles on philosophy, history, science, sci-fi, fantasy, poetry, classic literature, and of course, the occasional YA novel. I cannot live without books -- this is one girl who says, "Give me a good book over diamonds any day!" Right now, for instance (though I haven't read any Nietzche beforehand and am only somewhat familiar with existentialism), I'm reading Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

What has changed over the years? For one thing, I find that I'm a lot more confident than I was when I started blogging.

When I started college, I had no idea what the hell I was doing majoring in psychology, a subject that I only decided to take up because my parents told me that I needed a practical, respectable, well-paying day job to support myself and build a career. I did it for selfish reasons; I majored in psychology to help give me some insight into the absurdities that take root in our private minds and manifest themselves in everyday human social interaction. Doing so made sense at the time. Now, though, I find that I really want to become a clinical psychologist. I want to provide counseling and services to those who really need it, to those who need a little help in the same everyday activities and routines that we so often take for granted.

So I decided to step up, be a woman, and go after that internship. I'm now in the process of finalizing everything. All that's left for me to do is fill out the form, send it out to the on-site intern adviser, and then ask my psychology undergraduate adviser if she would please become my faculty mentor, especially since she was my professor for abnormal psychology. I'm crossing my fingers here, hoping that all goes well.

As far as my writing projects go, I feel comfortable with how I've been shaping my characters and building their world from my research on body-snatching, women in medical history, and historical periods such as Elizabethan and Victorian London. I have finished rewriting and editing ten chapters, and I hope to continue with the eleventh sometime this week. I just hope that with this upcoming internship, I can still have enough time to work on my writing and fine-tune my techniques.

I also love taking inspiration from a variety of television shows. I've recently kept up with this kooky and quirky show on the Science Channel called "Oddities," which centers around the strange and hilariously outrageous encounters that the shopowners of Obscura Antiques & Oddities experience on a day-to-day basis.

In one episode, I couldn't stop laughing. Priscilla texted me on Saturday night about it, saying that she caught a marathon of it after I'd mentioned it to her. So I turned on the TV, tuned into the On-Demand Nature & Knowledge Channel, scrolled down to the Science Channel, and played the latest episode of "Oddities."

A man walks into the shop, accompanied by his assistant, who's carrying a box full of small cases. Sean Miller, an artist and the curator of JEMA (John Erikson Museum of Art), starts collecting  Obscura's -- I kid you not -- dust samples. He tells the shopowners, Mike and Evan, that he collects dust samples from art museums, photographs them, and even creates buttons and coasters for sale. Miller hopes that his sales pitch, along with a tour of his dusty (haha) art museum, will persuade Mike and Evan to buy their own dust back!

Below is a clip from "Oddities," and if you're actually interested (or think that I'm kidding) then you can also find out more information about the dust exhibit from JEMA's website: http://www.jema.us/pages/dust_pages/state.html



I was pretty surprised to see the photographs that Miller and his fellow artists took from the magnified images of the dust samples. The concept of the artworks sounds completely bizarre and incredibly weird, to the point of utter hilarity, but the photographs and images themselves are actually pretty cool to look at, almost like paintings. No two dust samples are alike! Kind of like post-modern abstract art, if you're really into that. I know I'm not so much into modern art (though I do occasionally go to the MoMA to open up my mind to new and highly-stylized artforms), but I do have an appreciate for art in general. With his unique take on viewing dust, I actually commend Miller and his colleagues on their work and their guts to show off their photography endeavors in a dusty art exhibit. (FYI: Pun totally intended.)

A detail of Art Museum Dust Montage by Connie Hwang

If you're feeling so inclined, I dare you to go google the keywords "magnified dust samples" or "microscopic dust." You'll either be fascinated or creeped out by the surprisingly colorful and intricate dust patterns. For me, it's a little bit of both, as well as freaking out over the fact that I'm actually genuinely fascinated by something as weird as this. Not that it's groundbreaking or anything, though breaking the ground will probably kick up some more interesting dust samples for the people at JEMA (haha).

I'm not sure if I'll ever visit that dust museum (it turns out they also have a location in Genoa, Italy), but I'm definitely thinking about visiting Obscura Antiques & Oddities one day. It's located in the East Village, right in New York City, so maybe I'll take a train there one day with my younger sister and just take a look around. It'll probably be more fun and interesting than walking into any of those old antique or thrift shops that we've visited in the past. Though we probably won't buy anything (we're broke as a joke college girls, after all), the experience of going there will be worth the visit. Maybe they sell some cheap crafts items that my sis and I can afford as souvenirs. 

I should also bring some of my friends, too. They'd probably love exploring the odds and ends in there, too. One day, when we're not too busy with school... maybe one day this summer. I should bring it up when I see them on Friday for our girls' day picnic at the Brooklyn Botanical Garden.

With all this talk of "oddities," my parents think that my younger sister and I are a little weird. I can't say I blame them. It's just the way we are. I like to think that our geeky tendencies and propensity towards the oddness, absurdities, and grotesqueness of life are part of what make us unique individuals. ;)

It's seeing the beauty in the ugly that truly makes life, and indeed art, worthwhile subjects to examine and experience. (I hope I don't scare people off with my weirdness, haha.)

Speaking of weird and endearing things, I've recently added Anna Nalick's new blog site called Odds & Ends to my blogroll. Not only does she have song-writing talent and amazing vocals (she's one of my favorite artists!), but she also writes narrative poems and funny stories that have a charm all their own. I recommend checking out her blog if you have the time and are up for some entertaining, quirky, lyrical and poetic material to read. I'm getting her latest album ("Broken Dolls and Odds and Ends") as soon as it comes out, same with Michelle Branch's new song and upcoming album.

Little things like Anna's songs "Paper Bag" and "Shine" get me through each day. No matter how confused I get, I just turn my iPod on and play one of these songs. Sometimes I'd listen to some Vanessa Carlton, Michelle Branch, or Sara Bareilles. These artists bare so much vulnerability and yet so much courage and optimism in their lyrics and music that their works seem to have their own essence -- their own soul. I know that this probably sounds a little flaky, but they inspire me to continue with unraveling the confusions that I come across in both my life and my writing. They truly do.

At the bottom of this post is a list of some of their songs, which I sort of made into a themed playlist. I feel like I've been living in a daze these past few days, ever since the last day of the semester. If you go through the music below, you'll probably get an idea why.

I don't want to spend another blog post dwelling on it, since its salience already weighs in my mind. Things seemed like they were going pretty well between us... He took me by complete surprise the day before the final, asking me if I'd like to get together with him and cram study. Oh, would I? Of course! We shared some laughs about the final and learned some new things about each other. Overall, I'd say things went pretty well and we left things on a good note.

Maybe I'll call him this summer. Maybe I won't. Maybe he'll be the one to call (or text, since he seems pretty shy in general). I don't know.

I'm a girl stuck in a rut because of some stupid dating rules. I could easily call him later on during the summer and ask him if he'd like to see that sci-fi movie he mentioned. But I don't know if I should, considering I'm the girl and I'm supposed to play that stupid "play-hard-to-get" game. Such needless ridiculousness. It's like watching some stupid mating dance among bird species on the Discovery Channel. Is this what romance in the twenty-first century has been reduced to?! GOSH.

Don't you just hate that twisted knot feeling in your gut, preventing you from breathing properly and thinking straight because you're left wondering about a certain someone? Why can't life just be simple? If a guy and a gal like each other so much, why can't they just be forthright with each other and hang out like old friends getting to know each other, talking about the things that they're most passionate about in life?

Oy vey, that's what I say. And I ain't even Jewish!

Oh, to hell with it. Let's just see how this thing goes, shall we? Part of not knowing is torturous, sure, but it's also half the fun. And if things turn out differently, then oh well. It could have been the start of something beautiful, but we'll never know. On to the next song in that infinite playlist! ;)

If he doesn't call, then there's no harm in asking him if he wants to hang out during the summer to see either a movie or grab some coffee or frozen yogurt (even if it's just as friends), right? I mean, if I flop on my face, then I flop on my face. If he laughs, but then he helps me up after that, then maybe we have something going on here...

There's only one way to find out. ;)

Anyway, here's that playlist I've been talking about (thanks to youtube).

• Fools Like Me -- Vanessa Carlton
• Only Fooling Myself -- Kate Voegele
• In My Head -- Anna Nalick
• Words -- Anna Nalick
• The Lullaby Singer -- Anna Nalick
• All You Wanted -- Michelle Branch
• Sooner Or Later -- Michelle Branch
• Sweet Misery -- Michelle Branch
• Breathe -- Michelle Branch
• Come Undone -- Vanessa Carlton
• Walk Away -- Anna Nalick
• Where Are You Now? -- Michelle Branch
• Breathless -- Corinne Bailey Rae
• Uncharted -- Sara Bareilles
• Let the Rain -- Sara Bareilles
• Red -- Sara Bareilles

I'll close with a quote from "Red," the last song on the playlist. It has that feel-good optimistic summer vibe that I hope inspires you, too.

"Baby girl, it may take a while, but take the good from the bad
And never minds are never sure, 
So never leave them wanting more
 What are you waiting for?
How you love is who you are

I dive in and I sink in
And I find new colors to think in..."

One Whirlwind of a Week: School, Writing, and Coming to Terms with Realizations

Well, today has been pretty interesting so far. In fact, I've had one whirlwind of a week. Where to start... hmm...

I haven't had a proper eight-hour sleep cycle this entire week.

I had an eight-page analysis due for my Philippine-American Literature class, and it was crucial because as the final paper, most of my grade for the course depended on it. I've been getting pretty decent grades for that class, I guess mostly due to pushing myself to be more vocal in class during our discussions of the text. The books that I've read in my Asian literature classes are well-worth reading. I think I've grown a soft spot for Hisaye Yamamoto, Jhumpa Lahiri, Quan Barry, Maxine Hong-Kingston, Jessica Hagedorn, Carlos Bulosan, and Alfrredo Navarro Salanga. I guess maybe as an Asian-American writer myself, I can sympathize with the issues and the emotions evoked in their works. They inspire me to find my own voice and my own flair in my writing. I can't guarantee it (because I'll most likely forget about it), but I'll maybe post some of my papers in future updates.

As for my Psychology of Women class, things were wrapped up pretty nicely. We all did our final papers on something that related with women and gender issues that we didn't necessarily get to discuss in class. The topics, each interesting and worth thoughtful consideration, varied from media representations of lesbian relationships to purity balls to social and political issues affecting women in the Middle East. I chose to write about Twilight and how it dangerously portrays to its primarily young female audience the "ideal" male as a psychologically and physically abusive partner in heterosexual teen dating and relationships (aka all about how Edward Cullen is a stalker, a misogynist, and a wife-beating sparklepire and therefore should not be held on a pedestal as some kind of romantic hero). Quite frankly, Edward is a butt-head toward his beloved Bella, and Bella is a stand-in for the young, naive and inexperienced female reader who buys into the fantasy rather than the glaring reality.

Originally, I wanted to write about how the women in the Twilight books were portrayed, but if I did that, I'd probably end up mapping out the arguments for a literary critique of character development and going well past the minimum 3-5 pages. I couldn't do all of that in one night, plus I had to squeeze in time to study for my Cognitive Psych test (that class can take a huge toll on you). So instead, I narrowed my focus to the psychological and physical abuse that Edward exhibits towards Bella throughout the series and used statistics provided by the U.S. Department of Justice regarding the rates of stalking victimization, psychological abuse, and physical abuse. I thought that these statistics would be serve as a wake-up call in emphasizing the crucial importance of informing the younger members of the Twilight audience (seeing as their prefrontal cortex, the area of the brain responsible for judgment and decision-making, does not fully develop until they reach their twenties) to be wary of the dangers of abusive relationships and to take precautions against ending up in such situations.

I wish that I had written more and had had more time to thoroughly analyze all the details in order to support my argument, but I did the best that I could. When you've already done your best in such a short span of time, what more can you really do? I just hope I pass the class with an A. I'm trying to graduate with a Suma Cum Laude, so every little point counts towards increasing that GPA. I'm just trying to make my parents proud, and maybe it'll increase (hopefully) my chances of getting accepted into a graduate program in clincial psych. I have a whole lot of figuring-stuff-out to do.

OH, AND BY THE WAY...
While still kind of on the topic of Twilight... check out this newspaper's website. That's right. I only found out about it this month, but I was excited nonetheless: my blog post, "Precisely Why Any Writer Should Do Their Research," was featured in the "Culture Briefs" section of a February issue of the Washington Times. I'm still amazed that an excerpt of that post was quoted in a newspaper. :)

Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. On the matter of finding time amid the past crazy week...

Even in my sleep-deprived stupor, though, I was also able to work on that poem I posted previously and also edit another chapter in that novel I'm still working on. I haven't written it down yet, but I also have some rough character sketches for the other major characters. It started out as back story material, but I can see now that, given the research I've done on female medical practitioners during the middle ages as well as on body-snatching and the theft of organs for transplants, I can totally write entire book for some of the key characters that would serve as a prequel for the story I'm working on right now. It's probably going to take me another couple of years to work everything out, but in the end I think it'll be worth it. I don't want to be another Stephenie Meyer, publishing works that have so many factual, commonsense and grammatical errors. I'd rather be J.K. Rowling, publishing works that she took years to craft with engaging conflicts, engaging characters who develop backbones and stand up for what they believe is morally and ethically right, and a unique flair of writing that keeps the reader turning the pages and wanting more. I just have to make the time between classes and my other real-life responsibilities in order to really make it work. More updates on this later.

As for other miscellaneous updates --

Remember in a previous post, "Only Fooling Myself... Or Am I?", that I was supposed to meet up with a certain someone? Well, I did. And it went all right. Not quite what I had in mind, but it went all right nonetheless. To be honest, I feel a little relieved. I got so worried over something so trivial this weekend that I'm actually laughing about it now. I realize now how silly I've been. And you know what? I'm okay with that; I truly am.

Sometimes you learn that it really isn't you. Sometimes you learn that it's other things, that the guy just has a lot of things on his mind and a lot of things to figure out (job, school... life in general it seems), especially if he just started to work towards a goal. I can't blame him. I could tell from the worried, tired look on his face that he needs to get some rest and take each day as it comes. He deserves a little break from all the stress of studying and the added responsibilities that his job's been giving him. I just hope that maybe we can still keep in touch once the semester's over and stay friends. Sometimes you just have to let things unfold on their own and see what happens.

For now, I'll focus on my writing projects, getting that internship, planning for grad school, and enjoying whatever time I have with my friends and family. I find that as long as you stay grounded, surround yourself with the people who care about you, and keep in mind the important things in life, then you'll walk away feeling uplifted and confident with a strong sense of self.

I'll close with a Sara Bareilles song that brims with all the uplifting good stuff. Life, dear friends, is uncharted.

Here's to the summer, everyone. :)

I'm Only Fooling Myself... Or Am I?

It's been months since I last updated, and all because of this long, crazy semester that's about to come to an end. Although I have looked forward to summer ever since February, I'm also feeling kind of wistful that the craziness is winding down. I've learned a lot lately -- about my family, about my friends, about my career goals, and about myself. I'm applying for those internships, and I'm going to put myself out there as a confident young woman who knows what she wants and strives to work toward her goals.

Some of you have probably wondered about the weird sense of hopelessness in that previous entry that I wrote way back in February -- please disregard that. I got over it (thank goodness!). It was a stupid and trivial little thing, something that shouldn't have even crossed my mind in the first place because of obvious circumstances (he had a girlfriend, and oh yeah, he was teaching one of my classes. I know, I had a bit of a lapse in judgment, haha). Now that that's done and over with, I've gotten on with completing the requirements for my major (6 more credits, and I'm done! I still have 24 credits to complete in order to graduate, though) and moved on with other interests.

With that said, prepare yourself for another silly thing that will probably make me sound like I'm in high school all over again...

In between the worrying about upcoming tests in cognitive theories, folk psychology, Power-point presentations on media portrayals of women, and tackling literary critique essays for my classes, I think that I stumbled and fell upon something wonderful.

So there's this guy... (Haha, that sounds so stupid already.) and I have a theory that he likes me.

It's been years since I was actually interested in a
guy, let alone someone whom I could envision myself having a really strong connection with. I still haven't dated anyone, but I'm not in any rush. I'd rather take things as they come, one step at a time.

There didn't seem to be any harm in talking to him, especially since we seemed confused over the same topics in class and he seemed like a really nice person. We'd look at each other and say "hi" from time to time. One time we made eye contact after taking a test, and he made a huge effort to smile and wave to me. It came out as kind of awkward and yet so adorable at the same time. He seemed like a genuinely sweet guy. So I worked up the courage to sit next to him and ask him questions about the homework that our professor would assign.

I was nervous as hell, but I tried to be nonchalant and helpful whenever we partnered up for group work and discussed the questions in the given exercises. We even kind of joked around with each other, and he actually laughed at some of the things I'd say even though I didn't think my comments were that funny to begin with. He'd get fidgety around me, start blushing when I talk to him, glance my way every so often, and even smile at me. When I casually asked about how his weekend was, he blushed, looked me in the eyes, and gave me a huge grin, like he was surprised and pleased that I actually asked him that question. I pretty much melted right then and there. I couldn't help but smile back at him.

It seemed like it would be alright to try to get to know him better as a friend, and since we were both confused over the same topics that would be covered in the final exam, I asked him if he wanted to study with me sometime, just to see how he'd respond. Mind you, that's the first I ever actually asked a guy if he wanted to spend some time together with me.

It shouldn't even be that big of a deal. I'd decided that if I truly was a feminist who believed in equality, then why the hell not ask him if he wanted to study together? Screw the mind games and just straight out ask him. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

So I mustered up whatever courage I could, thinking that it's now or never, and then walked up to him after class and said, "Hey, I was just thinking... since we're both confused and having trouble with the same chapter, do you want to study together for the final?"

I didn't even think he would say yes, especially since he seemed distracted with so many other things going on with his other classes, and because he seemed busy in arranging the books in his bag when I asked him. He was even turning red, and I thought he'd pass on the suggestion. But as soon as I said it, he looked me straight in the eyes and said, "I'd love to."

I couldn't breathe. I was floored. I felt like I was having one of those dreams that seemed too good to be true. He didn't just say, "Sure" or "Yeah, that would be helpful." He said, "I'd love to." I'd love to.

And then he took out his phone and asked me for my  number. I didn't think he'd even do that, since we would see each other again the next week for class, but in any case, it happened. We exchanged phone numbers, and he penciled me into his planner!

Maybe I invested too much hope in this one little phrase, but I couldn't help but get excited. I couldn't stop smiling to myself. Even my friends were overjoyed when I told them what just happened. They pretty much scared me when I saw them jumping up and down and squealing in excitement. It turns out that I'd done what neither of them had the guts to do: ask a guy I'm interested in to spend some time with me.

I suppose I was pretty brave. I still couldn't believe that I asked him and that he actually agreed to meet with geeky, glasses-wearing, braces-wearing, somewhat-shy-and-slightly-socially-awkward me. I was so happy and so full of hope that I couldn't think about anything else during that entire weekend.

But then yesterday, he didn't really talk to me much. When we were confirming our plans to study, he got a little... weird on me. He still laughed at some of the things I'd said and we still exchanged smiles with each other, but when it came to planning the where and when of our study session, he looked a little... overwhelmed. Freaked out. Maybe I scared him. I don't know. But he seemed incredibly nervous and even told me, "Well, you have my number in case you change your mind." And then he kind of... well, ran away. It was so awkward. And I felt mortified with confusion.

Was he no longer interested in hanging out? Did the thought of spending time with me studying for the final freak him out? Did he think I was being too forward in saying that I actually didn't have class that day?

OH GOD. I probably shouldn't have told him that. I think it made him nervous.

I feel like I'm Gigi from He's Just Not That Into You. I wanted to kick myself so badly.

My friends told me it's not a big deal and to stop listening to songs that tell me I'm a fool ("Fools Like Me" by Vanessa Carlton or "Only Fooling Myself" by Kate Voegele, anyone?). I shouldn't dwell on it too much. I should just treat the situation as though I'm just meeting up with a classmate to hang out and study for a final exam that we have together. And they're right. I shouldn't be too emotionally invested in something as casual as a study date (of course, the use of the term "date" is kind of ambiguous here). It's the rush of these darn emotions and the nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me to tread carefully that keeps tripping me up.

For all I know, he's probably just as shy and nervous about it as I am (he generally is pretty nervous and shy around me). My friends helped put things into perspective: maybe he does want to study with me, but he doesn't want to make me come to campus to study when I don't really have to. Maybe that embarrassed him. Or maybe it's just a part of who he is as a really polite gentleman (he's held open doors for me before).

I honestly don't know and there's really no way to find out what he's really thinking. But I'm definitely not going to cancel on him. I really want to help him do well on the final. If I can study and help him at the same time, then maybe there's still hope for us yet in passing the exam! If anything, we might hit it off and hang out again over the summer, even if it's just as friends. That's got to count for something.

As Vanessa Carlton says in her song "Fools Like Me":

"Fools like me / Oh, we love blindly
And the cracks don't count
It's gotta break in front of me...

Fools like me / Oh, we never see
And the cracks don't count
It's gotta break for me to see...

At least I can say / I was not afraid / I loved you all the way / I'd pick the fool any day"

Still holding out hope and willing to take foolish risks --

This is yours truly,
J. Day

On Turning 21 and Figuring Out How to Find Focus

It's been a while since I've last updated. Many things have happened since then.

For one thing, I recently turned 21 years old. I didn't drink anything, though. I didn't go all out and celebrate that I can now legally obtain alcoholic beverages. I never liked alcoholic drinks; they give me stomach aches. (Though, I am actually partial to white wine. Pretty sweet stuff.) I guess that probably makes me sound boring or "un-fun." But honestly, I didn't want to wake up the next morning with a massive headache from an unnecessary hangover. There's more to life than drinking your cares away anyway. I much prefer dancing.

I've also recently started going to school again for the Spring 2011 semester. I have so much on my plate right now and for the next three months. Not only do I have to keep up with the challenging reading materials for class, but I also have to apply for internships this summer if I'm ever going to get into grad school. I haven't even begun the process of looking for a grad school. I gotta hop on that before it's too late.

I have to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life on such short notice. Lovely, isn't it?

On a brighter note, I've finally finished revising and editing the first and second chapters of that book I've been working on. I found that I had to do a massive overhaul of rewrites after going over the rough drafts of the chapters I'd written last year. Something in those pages just wasn't working. I finally pinpointed what those elements were and fixed them, also tightening the language where necesssary. It's still far from great, but I'm realy happy with the revised versions of these chapters so far.

I'll post the first two chapters soon, either on this blog or on the other one that I made specifically for this particular writing project. I still have to fix and update the story's blog.

What else has been happening? Well.
Finding focus and maintaining it has been somewhat of a challenge for me lately. My mind drifts and wanders all over the place, and I've been getting all these weird dreams that I shouldn't be having, such as one involving a really cute, funny, intriguing guy in one of my classes.

Sometimes I wish there actually was a bottle of non-toxic brain-bleach in existence to help me get unwanted images/ideas out of my head. It can be incredibly distracting when I'm studying. Ironically enough, he's also the main reason that I've been feeling motivated to finish my reading assignments early. He said that I had some interesting ideas, and oh, gosh... I don't know. Something about his eyes and his smile made me feel weak in the knees when he said that. Whenever I speak up and try to say something and keep up with the class discussions, I get incredibly self-conscious about what I want to say that sometimes I don't even bother saying anything at all. Or if I do say something, my voice trails off and then I forget the rest of the words. And then it turns out that he knows exactly what it is I'm trying to convey and he tries to be helpful and finish my sentences. It's a little disorienting.

Darn nervousness. Why do you always have to trip me up? Why must you suffocate whatever confidence I have and smother whatever courage I happen to muster up? Why must you make me question my own self-worth? Damn you, nerves. Damn you.

Anyway, it's not like anything will ever actually happen between me and him. It's hardly likely. Sucks to feel so awkward and to know the guarantee of a silly infatuation being unrequited. It sucks to be me, indeed.

Sorry for the vagueness.

It's currently 1:33AM as I'm writing this entry, and I haven't had sleep in the past couple of nights because of my uncooperative, wandering mind. If I'm not thinking about this guy, then I'm thinking about how the future kind of freaks me out or how some people probably think I'm a nutcase who thinks she's too clever for her own good. I hate getting that sinking feeling at the bottom of my stomach, that feeling of defeat as I wonder what it is that's making me paranoid or anxious about the world.

Maybe it's the weather. It's been one snowstorm-ridden winter, and quite frankly, I think winter has outstayed its welcome. I want spring to arrive already. I want to get out and jog, breathe some fresh air and be able to walk around the city without having to worry about putting on too many layers of clothing just to stave off Jack Frost's cruel breathy windchills.

Hopefully that'll change as the semester progresses. Here's to some optimism, dear friends. Help yourselves.

Love, Save the Empty...

My friend Liliana wrote a very insightful entry examining the overemphasis we place on investing our time and devotion to someone who just won't reciprocate our feelings. Originally, I meant for the following information to be a comment on Lily's post. But seeing as I exceeded the limit on typed characters in the comment box, I decided not to let it go to waste. So here it goes...

Most of us live under the delusion that it's better to have loved than to not love at all. Or some variant of this statement.

Right now, I'm reading this book called Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, and I was both surprised and amazed at the fact that this woman has gone through much of what Liliana discussed in her blog entry (it's Gilbert's memoir). Liliana's post post reminded me of it, and I felt that I have to share this excerpt from the book with you, because I think it's terribly relevant (pages 65-66):

"I barely had an adolescence before I had my first boyfriend, and I have consistently had a boy or a man (or sometimes both) in my life ever since I was fifteen years old. That was -- oh, let's see -- about nineteen years ago, now. That's almost two solid decades I have been entwined in some kind of drama with some kind of guy. Each overlapping the next, with never so much as a week's breather in between. And I can't help but think that's been something of a liability on my path to maturity.

Moreover, I have boundary issues with men. Or maybe that's not fair to say. To have issues with boundaries, one must have boundaries in the first place, right? But I disappear into the person I love. I am the permeable membrane. If I love you, you can have everything. You can have my time, my devotion, my ass, my money, my family, my dog, my dog's money, my dog's time, -- everything... I will give you all this and more, until I get so exhausted and depleted that the only way I can recover my energy is by becoming infatuated with someone else.

I do not relay these facts about myself with pride, but this is how it's always been...

Dear God, I could use a little break from this cycle, to give myself some space to discover what I look like and talk like when I'm not trying to merge with someone... When I scan back on my romantic record, it doesn't look so good. It's been one catastrophe after another. How many more different types of men can I keep trying to love, and continue to fail? Think of it this way -- if you'd had ten serious traffic accidents in a row, wouldn't they eventually take your driver's license away? Wouldn't you kind of want them to?"


So there. We all want to believe that something as wonderful and as magical and as powerful as true love exists. We go out searching for it, trying to confirm this bias, trying to persuade ourselves that things will get better (even if they hardly ever do). Sometimes we just end up settling. Why?

Because it's better than considering the alternative -- the thought of being a single complete human being, independent of another person's heartbeat pulsing. In other words, we mistake being single for being alone. For being lonely and forlorn, for being utter romantic failures. And this hurts like a bitch.

Then comes the cycle of self-pity, of self-deprecation, of self-doubt in one's self-worth. But what, praytell, is the SELF?

Who is this "I," this "me," this "my," this "mine"? WHO?

I don't know if this is the case for most people, but I think that's the central problem here. Often, we lose our sense of self because we "disappear into the person [we] love." We're fools who can't see anything of consequence until the cracks break right in front of us.

So maybe, like Miss Gilbert has realized and implies in her book, we have to find ourselves first and come full circle before we give of ourselves completely to that person.

As far as I can tell, Love -- in its truest, sincerest form -- displays symptoms of dissociative identity disorder (or split-personality, if you will). Despite the flaws and the petty fights, Love will still cherish, adore, and care unconditionally for as long as Love is welcome to stay.

We just have to learn to let Love BREATHE for a change. Forcing it will only make Love bitter and declare war on us. Best not to aggravate it. Love's fatigued and overworked as it is. ;)