the FINAL finals ::insert dramatic music here::

Congratulations to all those who are done with finals!! Time to celebrate by going to the pub and getting drunk or going to Vegas or, if you're like me, sleeping and rewatching all the Disney Pixar movies with me, myself, and I.

Anyway, finals week really wasn't a week for me. It's not even completely over, but it is for me. I had a final Philosophy of Jurisprudence discourse due Monday morning and one in-class final after lunch. After that, I had up until today to just tweak my digital teaching portfolio and go to an optional final meeting for my Teaching English Internationally class. Although I had to wake up early and sit through hour-and-a-half long traffic for an optional meeting that I didn't need, I am actually glad I went-- really, really glad. There was only a handful (ie 7 or so) of us there and I knew absolutely no one, but through our discussions of teaching aspirations and global service I got to know those 7 or so people in a way I don't think I have ever known any previous classmates. No one has ever prompted me to discuss such things in that manner-- which is not to say that I was opposed to it, it's just that I don't think anyone's ever wanted to engage in such a serious conversation with me-- but I am also really glad that they did.

I was pretty much done with my website long before Tuesday, so I ended up just going around helping everyone else with theirs and then staying late to talk to my teacher, Sonja. Words can't describe how much I appreciate and am grateful for that talk she and I had. I was a little hesitant to speak to her, because she always felt just a little cold and I wasn't too sure if she'd open up to me, but she was actually really cool. In fact, she's fucking hilarious. But she offered me something in those 10 minutes that no one in my entire collegiate career (except for my HumCore teacher aka the crazy curly-haired redhead that works at the pub) has ever offered me: reassurance. I asked her for advice on what programs to look into and what career moves to make, especially since I wasn't an Education minor. I confessed to her my struggle to synthesize the two parts of my life I hold closest. Although she never mentioned it in class, her work centers on global teaching in service (her parents were Christian missionaries). She had read my statement/philosophy of teaching and told me that I was a lot like her; that she saw so much of herself in me. She said something to me as we both walked out of the Education department. I wish every single person I know could, at some point in their life, feel that same feeling I felt the moment her words settled within me.... An early Christmas gift, I guess you could say. At any rate, I left feeling not so much elated as I did clear-minded and more determined.

As if that wasn't enough, after much praying and insistence (and restless nights & fights & frustration), they've finally accepted it. I was so fearful this moment wouldn't come, but it has. It finally has. It doesn't matter if things don't pan out the way I plan them to, or if my life takes me in a completely different direction-- it's the fact that they've finally consented to not to have to consent; that they've begun to really understand and for once, actually listen; that they're starting to let go; that they believe in me. Maybe they always have, but in the past that 'belief' felt so much more like an expectation than an active belief. But it's different now. Maybe I'm jumping the gun and getting too far ahead of myself, but I hope this isn't just a momentary feeling or condition. I really hope it isn't.

Right now, I am feeling lucky and blessed to have ended my college career feeling so inspired and with such reassurance. I couldn't have asked for a better birthday gift. I don't know what else to say, except... Thank You.

the crunch

this has nothing to do with anything, really, and i'm probably just using this as a distraction from my philosophy paper (ok, so I AM) but i honestly believe that i might have loved Charles Bukowski in another life. or adored him. or something.

he is one of my favorite --if not my absolute favorite-- writer(s)/poet(s). if you follow my Tumblr, perhaps you already know that i went on a crazy spree this past Summer and drove all around southern California looking for his out of print works, guzzling gallons of gas, and inhaling dust from old used bookstores. it was great. anyway, i guess i'll just get to the main reason of this post: as i was starting to write my essay, i was struggling with how i am to write this final discourse. growing up, our education has taught us to write with increasing sophistication essays and papers filled with uncommonly pompous words for which we probably consulted a thesaurus. in philosophy, the task in writing is not to spit out puffed up papers with fancy writing on simple ideas, but to simplify in as few words as possible the most complex ideas to give way for a better, more complete understanding. this led me to a tangent on writing and how, although i thoroughly enjoy fantastical poetry, most of the work that truly moves me is crafted in the simplest of ways with the simplest of words.

aaaaand here is where Bukowski comes in. his writing is so raw and so simple and moves me to no end. i wish there was a resurgence of beat gen. writers or maybe a new movement of writers who share the same idea(l)s. i think things are complicated enough as it is; we need literature to help simplify the base of our lives.

for your reading pleasure, i present to you a condensed version of my favorite Bukowski poem, " T h e C r u n c h."

Good luck on Finals, everyone!

& of course
Congratulations to the new 2010 SPOP Coords
:)

just a quote.

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. From now on you'll be traveling the road between who you think you are and who you can be. The key is to allow yourself to make the journey."

meg cabot

fleeting

"We cannot know for certain how long we have here. We cannot foresee the trials or misfortunes that will test us along the way. We cannot know God's plan for us...

What we can do is to live out our lives as best we can with purpose, and love, and joy. We can use each day to show those who are closest to us how much we care about them, and treat others with the kindness and respect that we wish for ourselves. We can learn from our mistakes and grow from our failures. And we can strive at all costs to make a better world, so that someday, if we are blessed with the chance to look back on our time here, we can know that we spent it well; that we made a difference ; that our fleeting presence had a lasting impact on the lives of other human beings."

barack obama

I think I would die happily if I knew that I fought the good fight (whatever it may be), no matter the length of my stay here on this Earth. Maybe it's because I'm young and have yet to feel the pull of old age, but I find it-- for lack of a better word-- interesting how my parents put so much emphasis on growing old and retiring as their ultimate goal. I think of how they measure their happiness now and it saddens me somewhat. For example, they use their faith as an excuse for doing things; I see it as part of my reason. Sometimes I wish we shared the same views on life and work and service; alas, we do not.

But I'm trying to savor every good feeling and memory, and writing (or perhaps recording?) it all to remind me of how things are (were?). These people and things are beautiful, beautiful, I know; perhaps even more so amidst their flaws. Sometimes things can get heavy, but I'm thankful I'm allowed some room to breathe, even if it's just their way of humoring me and my so-called "wishful thinking." I'm just taking it as fuel for the fire, and all the more reason for me to hit the ground running. The rest of me is working really hard playing catch up with where my heart wants to be.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and that you were able to get some rest in. I can't believe it's already 10th week. Wowowee.... We're making our way 'round to the home stretch now-- just two more weeks, my friends :]

holiday parties & prep

...have always been my least favorite time of the year. The in-between days always seemed to matter the most to me. But these huge parties just drain and frustrate me. I have a huge family, so parties and dinners come in never-ending waves where one aunt always tries to outdo the other. I don't understand how they can take something so simple, something so genuinely good and simple-- like spending time together, laughing together, eating a good albeit (usually) unsophisticated meal together-- and turn it into something I've come to loathe. It's become one big terrible showcase. Cooking, which I normally love, becomes a task and a chore at this time. The best kind of meals come from cooking with love, and I hate feeling rushed or pressured. Nothing EVER tastes good to me, and it's THANKSGIVING for cryin' out loud! That SUCKS. Then there's the fake, biting conversations; the judgmental questions and comments; the searing stares and not-so-whispers; yadda yadda yadda. I don't recall the last time I truly enjoyed the company present at these family events. Even holiday dinners at home are laced with deep-seeded resentments and stuffed with an awkward silence so thick we can barely breathe to chew our food.

I hate the feeling lately that this environment is what's holding me back from doing what I want to, what I must do. My vision is getting clearer, and yet I still feel like I'm constantly walking through a fog. I don't know how things got so complicated for me. Sometimes I feel like there's no honest or genuine magic left in this season. I turn to my cousins to help me get by, but I know they have their own families and children to tend to; and friends are far and fleeting, although I am beyond grateful for the handful of ones still here who still reach out. I hope they know how much I appreciate their friendship, and just how much they mean to me.

What's getting me through these days is the knowledge that it will soon be over, and that real work (work that truly matters) will soon begin. I'm trying to pack my Winter Break with good company to avoid the hollow feeling these family events leave me with, and looking at what I have so far, I think I'll be seeing a lot of San Francisco this December and (hopefully!) Napa when this year turns to next. Oh! And I've been having the worst bouts of insomnia lately. I haven't gone to bed before 3AM lately and it's really screwing me over. I guess I'm just getting antsy. There is so much work waiting to be done; so much that is ready to happen.

I do hope your Holidays-- and well, why not ALL days?-- find you in good company; in comfort, in love. <3

arriere pensee

If you'd rather not hear me rant, then X out of this window right now


I have never seen anyone look at me with such doubt and disbelief. And if it had been any other person, I would have brushed it off and laughed, knowing that I would be OK. But it wasn't just any other person; it was my father. The straw that broke the camel's back, after my mother expressed similar thoughts and wishes many months ago.

belief. why is such a short and simple word so hard for them to have?
--- they have it in my brother, in the archaic filipino traditions and silly superstitions, in the stock market and economy and government; in the dozens of stupid "money" trees that litter our household. they have it in almost everything.... except me.

i'm so tired of feeling like i have to prove myself worthy of their money, their love, this stupid stupid last name. i'm not built like the people they grew up with, or their friends' children, or their nephews and nieces, or even my brother. nothing, nothing is sacred to them except money. i have weathered enough cradled in the hands of this extended family and cannot, will not, live the rest of my life bound to a crumbling ideal of 'family' laden with debts and constant deceit; there are greater, far more urgent issues to be dealt with. the scope of their world begins and ends with this last name, while mine does not.

i'm so tired of this place, bound by these freeways, central to every single not-so-distant relative who shares their flawed formula of "THE American dream." you gave me life, and i love you i love you i love you.. but i will not live for you. i will (if you permit) always come back to you, but something much bigger and greater is calling.

i am struggling to open your mind and, in turn, your hearts.
and you?
you say you're struggling to understand how i'm such a bad daughter.
"i guess we've failed," you told me as i looked out the window.
i didn't know what i was searching for..
perhaps some assurance that you really tried.

i shouldn't take this all so hard, but it'd be easier if i didn't hear it and have to grapple with it every single day. should i be angry? i don't feel like it. sad? for a moment, i did. disappointed? yeah. i think, if anything, that's it. but defeated? no. no, not that.

GMH

Reading Hannah's recent post about her experience with a cab driver really reminded me of this one site. I'm sure a lot of you have already heard about it, but I just thought I'd share it for the rest of you who don't. After reading the daily news, I try to read this site and the Wonderful World section of msnbc.com to offset my sadness [so unfortunate that most of our daily news is sad/bad]. Anyway, it's...

Gives Me Hope. com

It feels like it's gonna be a good day.