I can do happy all by myself

A few weeks ago, I was listening to the radio on my way home from school. In that moment I wasn't thinking it would have anything to do with me; as if the meat of the conversation wasn't going to get me through a tough time.

But it did. I was meant to be driving in that exact moment. It was fate.

I was listening to kCRW on 89.9FM, an NPR station. It's the only talk radio that fascinates me on Frequency Modulation. AM is pretty cool, but listening to mostly static, isn't.

[I can remember first coming across this station after I had scanned through the entire tuner, as my mom does. It had been a Friday night when I decided to take a shortcut home from work. As shortcuts typically work, it had taken me 3x longer to get home. YES, I  had been pissed sitting at the intersection while the light had taunted me with its green glow, round after round. But I had remained surprisingly calm because I was listening to a personal short story about a Cuban American recalling a heartfelt moment that he had shared with his reticent father. For once, traffic had been a good thing; i had given my attention to this guy's story, uninterrupted.

So every Friday after that, I would tune to this station. But I had made sure to take the normal route home, and if I got to my house, and if the segment wasn't over,  I'd sit in my car until the story finished. It wasn't until later that I had realized I was only listening to a single program--which was a fragment of everything that was aired on the station. I learned to be patient in understanding the current events discussed. Even the foreign ones. There, I had also been exposed to new restaurants, breaking news, and overseas issues.]

The host of this segment was talking about relationships, so naturally, I turned up the volume. He and his co-host, the "expert," were discussing their theories as to why we seek partnership, and/or comfort in other people.

I listened closer. The expert said we have been taught all our life to seek a life partner or a significant other because life cannot live without each other. Part of me wanted to agree, but part of me was also angry at this socially constructed belief. 

She then continued by saying some variation of this: "Truth is, we don't need someone else to feel a sense of fulfillment." We all have biological needs, it's true. But I've come to understand that seeking comfort in another person won't fill any voids we have within ourselves. Especially as a young woman, elder generations expect us to settle down with a partner soon, and eventually have kids. But what if we put ourselves first by educating ourselves, and explore the depths of our minds? We have to find something that makes us happy, something we can accomplish alone to dodge that lonesome feeling. It's like completing a project: it's usually worth the blood, sweat, and tears when you do it all by yourself. I want to love myself before I decide to love another person--or further, share my life with them. I'm learning to do things independently. It's not easy. In fact, it's scary and uncomfortable. But after listening to the radio that day, I realized I don't need a boyfriend to establish happiness, self-worth, or self-identity. Besides, a partnership should be about both you and another person; it's not a one-way relationship. I was treating it like it was. And that wasn't fair. 

Don't get me wrong, I would like to find Mr. Right, or Mr. Right for Me, but right now, I want to concentrate on making myself happy; I shouldn't leave my emotions in the hands of other people. Being single has given me the time and leeway to focus on my career goals, improve my editing skills, write, find inspiration, and spend more time with people that enjoy the same things I do. 

Mid-week dilemmas

It's Thursday, which means it's practically Friday, and therefore the weekend is basically here. For once, I felt the week drag on, whereas it usually flies by. Maybe all my misfortunes and displacement was the cause of static in my week. It all began Saturday with my study session at Starbucks. I met this nice guy who had a straight baby face but still was bold enough to point out how young I looked. After asking about my interests in school, he told me he was working on his Masters for Engineering--already we had nothing in common. When I least expected it, I found myself writing down my phone number on the right margin of his homework. At first, I thought it was an innocent act. I had assumed it was for collaboration purposes. May I remind you again: we had nothing but age range in common. Not until I got in my car did I realize what I had done. I was so embarrassed and frustrated with myself. "I'm such a tease and a push-over," I thought. "Why didn't I politely squeeze in the fact that I have a boyfriend?" My naïveté with guys has always been bad. Just as bad as my flirtation radar: always failing to pick up signal.

On my way to the hospital to visit my close friend who had recently given birth that morning, I prayed the Starbucks Guy wouldn't try contacting me.That night, as I hung out with my boyfriend, an unknown number text me. I knew exactly who it was as both our eyes glanced at my phone. There was no justification for him texting me, so I panicked. Like any bad liar, I acted like I hadn't a clue as to who it was. "Maybe it's an accidental text...I don't know who this is," I said. 

My boyfriend looked at me with one-hundred percent doubt, "Hmm, are you sure?" I was freaking out at that point.  But I coolly responded, "Yeah. I wasn't texting anyone before you got here." (Even though that part was true, I knew exactly who the sender was.) Since I had no intensions of responding, I brushed the situation under the rug and acted my normal self. But apparently acting "normal" was a sign of suspicious behavior that night. 

Today is Thursday. Let's just say emotions have been a little sensitive between us since Saturday. I'm not sure if I should admit my undisclosed encounter (which to him is automatic infidelity) and somehow turn it into a funny story, or if I should not mention anything at all since I didn't pursue any further actions with that Starbucks Guy.

I honestly fell into an alluring pit with the Starbucks Guy that sat across from me while I had been studying. It had been a while since I last felt genuinely admired, or even noticed. It made me feel vivacious and vibrant about my existence: an emotion I thought was extinct. Is it wrong for someone to feel that way? Although rhetorical, I will state no. My only wish is to feel this way all the time by the person that means so much to me.

Independence Day weekend

Friday: A somewhat distasteful day at work that ended crummily. The restaurant life ain' a joke! To sum it up, after miscommunication, I was told to clock off an hour early and therefore lost an hour of pay. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of seeing my still-best friend. I hand't seen her in 10 months! I had began to think she didn't care about me or didn't want to make time for me. But truth was, we both have our priorities set on school, jobs, and our future careers. And since we live an hour away from each other, visitations haven't been so easy to schedule. Our friendship is very much like those teenage posts on social media that talk about strong long distance friendships.

Ariel and I met up at an equidistant proximity. The funny part was that we both lied about the time we left our houses, as we are both girls and we both needed extra time to get ready. Our excuses were traffic, even though the freeways were empty. It took us both approximately 25 minutes to get to the bowling alley, although we claimed it took us at least 35 minutes. (I still haven't confessed to her that I lied.) I'll save it for our next get-together.

We played an hour and a half of bowling, but we talked more than we bowled! There was so much to catch up on. From guys, to jobs, to family, to crises, to simple "girl-talk," one would believe we hadn't seen each other in years. While we were conversing, I remembered to myself how much I have always enjoyed her company and the laughs we have been able to share. Together, we are as much care-free and exuberant ladies as we are thriving and career-driven women.

I honestly think we were talking so much in between rounds, our lane and computer began to malfunction. At that point, we stopped competing for the highest score and took turns bowling even if it wasn't our turn on the screen. We could have told an employee, but the game wasn't that serious. Before our 2 hours were up, we called it quits and looked up food places that offered light menus. (That's another quality I love about her: she's semi-health conscience.) The downsides of that idea was that most places near us were closing for the night, and the "mom and pop" type places had closed long before 10pm due to the holiday weekend.

Luckily we managed to find a shaved ice parlor that was still open. Neither of us had tried it before, so we gave it a try. No more than a 5-minute drive on the same street, we arrived. After sampling and critiquing half of the gelatos on the bar, we decided on Birthday Cake. It complemented our shaved ice and strawberry, mango, and peach toppings perfectly! It was a beautiful concoction. We carried our conversation from the alley to the parlor quite easily. As we began to see the pit of the bowl, it became apparent that we couldn't sit still without shivering, that the room was entirely empty, and that we were full.

Because we both understood the restaurant business life, we neatly consolidated our mess to the inside of the bowl, stepped outside, and thanked the people for letting us stay so late. Yet it didn't stop us from   finding a new place to continue our conversation. Before I knew it, it was already midnight, and we saw a coyote heading in our direction before it strayed away. Ariel shooed me away not long after because she reminded me I had to wake up early for the next day. I wanted to rebel, but at the same time, I didn't want a painful and tiresome morning. We said our goodbyes and promised we wouldn't wait so long to reunite.


Saturday: it came too soon. I felt like I had barely slept--which wasn't entirely false. At first I was hesitant to dedicate an entire day to two events that each needed their own day for celebration. But then I reminded myself that I was going to start taking advantage of my life that remains and fill it with fun, adventure, and take daring risks. 6:09am that morning, I felt psychotic for deciding to go to Six Flags Magic Mountain with some friends, and then going to my grandparents' house for an Independence Day party. Although my family has held this annual party longer than I have been alive, I had never planned to do anything so extreme hours before that.

It was a hectic morning, to say the least. Or maybe not. (I'll admit I'm just exaggerating because I wasn't the birthday girl driving left and right trying to get people together to leave on time.) My brother, his girlfriend, and I left my house around 7:15am to pick up my boyfriend from his house. From there, we drove to Bekah's house (the birthday girl) and waited for 20 minutes, which was around the amount of time it took her to drive back home. We had tried to wait patiently for everyone to show up, but oddly enough, cars were leaving her house. Once Bekah showed up, she seemed more annoyed than my impatient brother. She told us there was going to be a change of plans because her parents were already near the theme park, her brother and his friends were heading in that direction, and her boyfriend's sister and brother-in-law weren't ready. And that we were better off driving to her boyfriend's house to leave from there. We waited in front of his house for 5 min--which was when I began to feel embarrassed for all the driving around my brother had to do. Although he volunteered to drive, I felt embarrassed because I had to convince him to go with us, and then this quagmire had to happen.

It was around the 10th time that I saw Bekah come out of the house when I finally had the courage to tell her that we were going to take off because we were waiting too long. She seemed fine with the idea because I think she had realized her "meet at my house at 7:15am" plan had failed at 6am when her parents took off.

At 8:05am we headed North. We made it to Valencia in an hour. I hadn't even entered the park yet and I was already feeling sick. I think it is safe to say that my brother drives wild enough to feel motion sick, but safe enough not to cause an accident.

Within minutes, Bekah and the 3 people she rode with met up with us in the parking lot. The 8 of us waited for the other 7 to arrive at front of the park's entrance. It was already 9:20am. The sun was heating up my shoulders, and the line of people waiting to get into the park grew bigger and bigger. And still, no sign of her family, even after we were told to go to will-call and pay for our tickets there.

Finally, at 10 something, her family showed up. I thought Bekah was joking when she said her grandparents and great uncle were also going to be joining us. We greeted each other and made our way through the Six Flags entry gates.

The greatest thing about going on July 4th, was that the park was relatively empty! We didn't wait more than 30 minutes for each ride. Taking our time, we were able to ride Viper, Tatsu, Jet Stream, Riddler's Revenge, Canyon Blaster, Roaring Rapids, Tidal Wave, and X2. I don't know what was more amazing: the fact that Bekah's 70-year-old grandparents rode Tatsu, that my brother--the most fearful of roller coasters, and whom I was proud of--rode the majority of the rides we all got on, or that X2 was the most thrilling and hilarious way to end our day at Six Flags.

Since my brother and his girlfriend skipped the last ride due to feeling woozy, they were already waiting for my boyfriend and I at the front of the entrance with the truck at 4pm. From there, it was another hour-long drive to La Puente where Part 2 of our Independence Day laid ahead.

When we got to my grandparents' house, our parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins were happy to see us. Although worn out, we said hello to everyone and told them about how much fun we had but were glad to be back home and be able to eat in peace without having to get on another roller coaster afterward.

I think the four of us (my boyfriend, brother, his girlfriend, and I) were semi-disoriented after the whole morning and half of the day spend out and about. But we soon regained energy, or at least just enough to light up some fireworks.

The majority of the fireworks on our block had finished; but that didn't mean the fear was over for four-legged friends. A frightened Chihuahua had made itself into the house where many of us were keeping warm. It was shaking and sh-pooping all over the dining room. Poor doggy smelled worse than his feces, and his nails were as long as those in fashion right now. He must not have known where else to go to hide from the blasts and booms going on all over the place. The glassy look on his bulging eyes said everything. To avoid having him roam loosely and scared on the streets, we thought we did the best thing possible by keeping him in the small laundry room with a towel and fresh water overnight. The next morning, my grandma let him go. I hoped he knew where his house was. That, or a nice family would find him and take better care of him than his previous owners.

By 11pm, both my boyfriend and I were knocked out on the living room couch waiting to go home. Unfortunately, we both had work early the next morning, and were in need of a prayer to keep us functioning through Sunday.

Sunday was so bad for me, I'd rather not write about it. But I did end the day on a good note after work. I napped, swam for a bit (first swim of the summer!), shared hysterical laughs with my future sister-in-law, and relaxed by watching a movie with my boyfriend.

This is going down as one of the most memorable 4th of July weekends, ever!

The year of fearlessNESS

I am afraid of making life-changing decisions, afraid of stepping out of my comfort zone, but most of all, afraid of living with results I won't like. The funny thing is that I always want to peak out of the window that reveals opportunity and thrill, but I'm never ready enough to go outside and involve myself. When I tell someone I write, it's easy to say. When they ask about what, I become a padlock and I don't know why!

But this year WILL be different. This year will be the year I fulfill the very thing inside of me that wants to experience newness and go into those dark places and still be able to come out alive with a story to tell. And I will be proud of what I do, regardless of how absurd it seems.

No lie, I've written inside my head every day. Because my work went unpublished, the ideas faded and became distorted. So I guess keeping a pen and paper or my phone on me at all times will have to be a must.

UPDATES:
I got a job! (Although it was far from what I wanted, it pays the bills.)
I've opened myself to loving whole-heartedly.
I began attending community college to redefine my interests.
I got braces--and I finally got used to having them!
I'm continuing to practice yoga--still working on not falling asleep on the mat.
I've grown comfortable speaking to my grandparents in Spanish.
I got my math mojo to work again!
I am inevitably clumsy. *sigh*

Motivation of FearlessNESS
While I was in my first semester (took me a while to stop saying quarter) at Mt. SAC, I took two Math classes and a Spanish class. I had enrolled back in college with the intentions of becoming a Registered Nurse because I wanted to have a successful and promising future. And now that I look back to the day I set my mind on that idea, I was proud of myself--and not delusional--for staying committed to this plan. I didn't give up or tell myself it was impossible for someone with an artistic background to find a place in the field of science. During this time, I had silenced the voice that spoke of the what-ifs, the imagine-ifs, and all the crazy stories I'd make up in my mind. For once, I was only concerned about passing College Algebra. I didn't want to overwhelm myself with the reality of what lied ahead.
I worked super hard every day! I studied and lived like a hermit crab to avoid any distractions of reaching my goal.

It wasn't until I made a required appointment to see a counselor where I rediscovered my true desires. In about an hour, he helped me express what I really want to do in life. He didn't necessarily talk me out of Nursing, he simply opened my eyes and explained why I should be brave and do what I really want for myself. I remember him saying, "I'm not saying you can't succeed in the Nursing program. I'm just saying it's really competitive. Some of these people are just naturally good at math and science. For you it'll be like learning to write with your left hand and competing with someone who's been left-handed their whole life." He was kind enough to introduce me to the pathways that I can take since I told him I've always considered having a career in the entertainment/television/film industry. I spoke to him in December, and since then, it's mostly all I've thought about! Oddly enough, my Spanish teacher said something similar. I've always known I had a telling face, but who knew my physical and prose style of writing spoke volumes about my personality as well. She told me she could tell I was creative and a perfectionist. I instantly liked her 10 times more for reinforcing my unspoken thoughts.
I want to be fearless not for 2015, but because it's 2015 I want to be fearless!

January goals: write. post. work. live. breathe. read. be daring.