How to Nail an Interview

Sweet Child (Not) O' Mine

It was a day in August of 2011 when I was angry with my nephew's forthcoming arrival. He wasn't a smudge that could be wiped away, no longer a problem my cousin could simply swallow, or a matter that could be flushed down the toilet. My cousin was already six months pregnant when she had found out she was going to be a mother and informed us that weekend. Months before, I had questioned her sudden weight gain, but she had insisted she wasn't pregnant. Her weight had been distributed throughout her body, so the bump wasn't obvious. But that day, my cousin appeared to be noticeably pregnant, like never before. It was as if she was implanted that same day and then BAM! without warning, everyone could see her bump. 

I remember looking at all three ultrasound images with loathing and despair. In those triangular images I wished Damian would disappear, that he would be unwanted by my cousin as much as I had, that he could be given to someone older...someone who actually was expecting him and couldn't wait for his arrival. But it was my cousin, a crazed, life-loving 18 year old who would become a mother in a few short moths. Her dreams of attending a university seemed to be all but reality. Now she would have to have a new set of demands; ones that would include a car seat, baby bottles, and changing beds in restrooms. 

Today, 5 years later, I am shocked to realize that those thoughts ran through my head. My cousin has been successful in all that she has attempted to achieve as a mother, student, and career woman. Her son has brought as much joy to my life as cupcakes have to his. Since the day he was born, Damian has continued to teach me about love, forgiveness, and patience. I love his big head, his bright smile, and the many days we get to bond with each other. At 5 years old, Damian is witty and charming. And although he has reached that age of brattishness, Damian's intelligence, mindfulness, and playfulness are what make him a memorable child. 

Happy 5th birthday, chele!

Bone Rattled

Here is a short film I produced with the help of my friend Chris.

Have you ever wondered how to get rid of a solicitor? This is one way to do it.

Please hold while your party is reached

My make up was done and my hair was 90% dry. With autumn acting like it can't fully express itself, it confuses my curly hair. I washed my hair two hours early because I had refused to leave with semi-wet hair, and I didn't want to show up late to my birth month lunch since it was going to be a small time frame to see my friends. It was already time to pick up one of them up, but I waited for a cue from her. While I waited, I grabbed the book I am currently reading and flipped to the page where I had left off last night. I casually glanced at my phone every other minute. Nothing. I resisted the urge of texting her because I didn't want to rush whatever it was she was doing.

It was getting later the more I waited so I gave in and grabbed my phone. Upon texting in the group chat, a blue message appeared. It was an apology. Lunch was going to have to be cancelled. I was irritated and succumbed myself to feeling upset. The first thing I did was seek someone to blame. But there was no one at fault. There were simply priorities that had to be attended before me. I replied to the apology. When my friends tried to reschedule, we came to the conclusion that we'd have to postpone our get-together. We were all free at different times. Although I was informed in advanced,  that didn't make me feel any better. I wasted time putting on make up and using valuable hair product. I thought about going out to get myself something to eat just to get out of my house for a while, but then I remembered there was food at home. The thought of pozole helped me feel slightly better.

Before eating, I checked for updates on social media hoping to find something interesting or funny. I wanted to let go of the bad news. I ended up coming across a post about passion. Oprah Winfrey once said, "Passion is energy. Feel the power that comes from focusing on what excites you." This moment of let down, waiting, never-happening sucked the energy right out of me. The passion and excitement I have for food reenergized me. Food was seriously on my mind, because food isn't my greatest passion. When I went over to open the refrigerated pot of food, I stared down at its gelatin content. I laughed at the food, but mostly at myself. I realized how much I exaggerate everything. I knew the pozole was going to be bomb, but when I remembered it was now a leftover meal that had taken on a new texture, it suddenly became a little less exciting to eat. It's crazy how the mind works. We possess so much power to control our outlook on life. You know, like the expression of the glass being half full or half empty. Perspective. Yet we allow ourself, almost want in some cases, to be stuck in a situation we don't like. Sometimes we want to experience sadness, anger, frustration, and hurt organically. We will even do everything we can to confirm such truths to other people. And the same thing goes for great things. We convince ourselves and others how amazing something is by the way we set it up. At first I was super excited to eat the poloze, and then I was just happy.

After the three minutes it took for my bowl of soup to heat up, I confronted myself about how dramatic I can be. But is it a bad thing? No. Never. It's what makes me, me. This is the exact reason why I enjoy being a storyteller. I have the power to create intense moments, grab people's attention, and show them what I see and how I view the world. It's both a curse and a blessing. 

With hours at my disposal, I felt like I had to make use of myself. I was obviously in a better mood. Now do something else that excites you, I thought to myself. I grabbed my Bose headphones and started editing some videos I had been putting off. It was a motivation that came so natural in the moment.

To make things clear, I wasn't upset at my friend for more than a few seconds. I just had to find a different thing I was already passionate and excited about.

A tornado hit my room!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xm6yQARwk4w

This is my first self-made skit, with the help of my dad (who was thrilled to have his 15 seconds of fame). For months I have been trying to expose myself and my talents, but I had been afraid of moving anywhere beyond the back of the camera or the scene itself. After completing school, I was no longer forced to collaborate with anyone or obligated to create something for the sake of a grade. Therefore, I wasn't as driven or as rushed to express my artistry.

Over the summer, I was involved in a YouTube channel. But all we ever accomplished was a cool name, and great ideas. We filmed a few videos, but nothing was ever edited or uploaded.

Having been away from the channel, I had taken it upon myself to continue writing concepts for skits and keep a list of shot compositions that I could later use for filming. Unfortunately, I kept these things to myself by sealing them inside private places like my mind, an old-fashioned notebook, the Notes app, and a journal app on my iPhone.

This past weekend, I reminded myself how I would never get noticed if I kept the right things too myself (because I usually say the wrong things aloud, or say too much). I was going to have to put myself "out there." On a Saturday afternoon, I came back from a late-morning breakfast and thought how I was going to have the whole day to myself before I would have to get ready for my night out in town. To my surprise, my room was clean. It only came as a shocker because it was still clean despite my getting ready to go out with my family.

I'm usually not the lazy type (lies; sometimes I am), so I grabbed my notebook and wrote about how I never notice how easily my room becomes a pigsty when I get ready. Once I was done, I realized that I had wrote the story in form of a shot list. "I have enough time to film this today," I thought. "No excuses." Although difficult, it felt rewarding to be the director, camera operator, casting director, set designer, costume design, screenwriter, and editor. Ha! I'm ready for more.

The Fourth will Always be with Me

When you told me how you liked me to dress, I obeyed.

When you didn't acknowledge my inner beauty, I felt ugly. 

When you told me my dreams were unrealistic, I woke up.

                                                                                                    Did you ever stop to think maybe you were being unrealistic?

Fourths are when I remember warmth.
It was the type of warmth that led to an unexpected sunburn.
I can still feel my skin healing from the beautiful, yet damaging rays.
Fourths will always make me smile.
Fourths will also send chills down my spine and remind me:
Wear sunscreen every day.

What if?

What if there was an eight day? What would you do with it?

What if a heaven truly does exist? Would you become a better person?

What if you went to sleep earlier? Would those dark circles under your eyes disappear?

What if you had an extra limb? Which would you clone?

What if Earth traveled clockwise? How would we refer to the rise and set of the sun and moon?

What if your pets could speak? What do you think is the first thing they would say to you?

What if teleportation existed? Where would you travel to first?

What if Trump becomes president? Would you continue to live in this country?

What if people always went through with doing things they said they'd do? Would that make human beings dedicated or dangerous?

Wanted - short film

I've been M.I.A. with writing on this platform for quite some time. But I have a good reason! I've been dedicating my time to perfecting this short film I made with the help of colleagues. Please share any questions, thoughts, and critiques by either commenting below, or on YouTube.

Upon putting this idea on paper, I was hesitant to turn it into a short film for many reasons. One of my biggest fears was people judging me, or questioning my motives for producing risqué material. But throughout this entire production, I relinquished these fears (on and away from the set) by creating something I could be proud of.

After failing at her own game of simple infatuation, a promiscuous young woman discovers that she wants more than a short-lived relationship.

Whether you know someone like them or are these people, I think we can all relate to each of these characters in some way.

Act as loud as you speak

Dear Me,

Act as loud as you speak. Your mouth may have shrunk, but your mind is full of substance, more than ever before. It cannot be silenced or restrained like your teeth. And even though you have interesting thoughts and processes, you aren't doing much besides amplifying your words. Yes, you write, you read, you think, you feel--but what are you doing to get to the next level? What are you doing to take your creativity beyond ideas? How will you make them real and visible? You gripe about limitations, but you aren't doing much to break the boundaries. Oh, don't forget how good you are at crossing the line. So then: why are you so afraid of taking risks with something that you value so much? You constantly tell yourself to be happy; you are practicing to put yourself first; you remind yourself that you have so much potential; others even remind you of your worth. So why are you holding back? Why are you holding back an art form--your forms of expression--that so many have difficulty conveying? You are a good observer. You take great mental notes (even though you sometimes disregard important details and overthink others). Your vision is accurate. So don't let your peripherals take center stage. Leave them on the sidelines and focus on what you truly want for yourself. Distractions are fun, but they can also be deadly if you sit with them too long. Remember that. In the beginning, you had this idea of turning your passions into a profession. Rekindle that initial motivation from deep within you. The one that made your heart beat a little faster, the one that made you smile without uttering a word. It's still alive. But you aren't doing a great job of feeding it, caring for it, or loving it. But it can't live in a cage forever. You will need to educate it, show it off, teach it new tricks and practice them. Be patient but not static.

-Sincerely,
The realNESS in Me.

Ubiquitous as the California Sun

Some days, you are the sun in my side and rearview mirror. I can feel the heat of you permeate onto the back of my neck. 

And when I drive against you, your burning desire is painfully rested on my chest. I pull down the visor, but I am too short for it to shade even my eyes, so I squint as I try to look past you, pretending as if it doesn't bother me.

Your shine and rays are beautiful, but so much has become cancerous. Overzealous warmth has become irritating and discomforting. 

When I begged for rain and clouds, I received. But like the California sun, clouds and rain don't last very long. And no matter which way I travel, your seeking admiration and desperation will always find me. I can only beg for shade, but please, don't make me beg.