it's possible.

 a gem in the neighborhood.

It's possible, you know. 

To wake up one day and realize that you're living your dream. 

That there's nothing you'd take back or do over

because you're happy with where you're at.

And you know that you got there (here)

because of the path you took,

because of the things and people

that touched you along the way.

life is short.

Happy Monday!  It's the last week of August!  Time flies.  So, be happy today.  :) 

Writing. And life.

Replica of how I look most nights and mornings these last couple of weeks.
Minus the fancy wardrobe and decor, of course.  And the beautiful curls.
 

Last night was the last day of my writing class series.  And before we all parted, we read this quote by Anne Lamott:

"E.L. Doctorow once said that 'Writing a novel is like driving a car at night.  You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.'  You don't have to see where you're going, you don't have to see your destination or everything you will pass along the way.  You just have to see two or three feet ahead of you.  This is right up there with the best advice on writing, or life, I have heard." (Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life)

This morning, as I carried my multiple book bags (one filled with client files and the other with notebooks filled with drafts of my story), down the stairs of my apartment, this feeling came over me - I have no idea what tomorrow or the next day or the next week or the next year will bring.  I can fall flat on my face.  Completely fail.  Have people hate my work.  Never get anything published.  I can try and fail.  And feel horrible.  And rejected.  Or I can not try at all so that I never have to feel that sense of rejection and failure.  But, I want to keep trying.  I want to keep writing.  I want to keep doing this.  Right now, I'm just loving this process.  Of writing again.  Of being immersed in this world of writers.  And right now, I'm just going to embrace that as much as I can. 

I'm leaving it up to God to take care of tomorrow. 

photo via Everything Lovely

(disclaimer: Not a picture of me.  But I wished I looked that lovely while I'm in the midst of work.)

how not to marry the wrong guy

During my SF trip, I met one of my friend's cousins, who is a therapist.  We shared the back seat during our drive to and from Napa, so we had plenty of time to talk.  I love talking to therapists, getting tidbits of insight and information.  Sharing tidbits of insight and information.  She, then, recommended that I read the book How Not to Marry the Wrong Guy.  She said that she prescribes it to all her single patients.  So, since I was getting a free therapy session (actually, 4 hours of it), I bought the book.  But by page 20, I thought, why the heck am I reading this book?  Heck, I can write this book.  I know, perhaps a little cocky of me, but really, I think I could write a book about this very topic.*  Lately, that's all I've been asked about and that's all I've been talking about - and it has nothing to do with the book.  Young women are always curious about unmarried older women.  (Hey, I was!)  And the question always is, are you happy?  Y'know, not being married and all? 

I think we live in a society that pushes marriage.  And I'm not saying there's anything wrong with wanting to get married and getting married, but it's as if there's something wrong with you if you're not.  At least, for women that's the unspoken message.  It doesn't matter how successful you are, but if you're not married, there is something wrong with you.  I mean, there must be something absolutely wrong with you that no one wants to marry you.

C'mon.

Heck, I love my family, and they are wonderful imperfect people, but for years, they thought (and may still think) that I'm an oddball.  You're over 30 and still not married!  What is wrong with you?  It's the topic of conversation every Thanksgiving, Christmas and birthday parties.  My grandmother even wanted to set me up with her handyman.  My mother tried to set me up with every single co-worker or sons of co-workers.  Embarrassing, I know.  But with each passing year, my perceived failure in life is the fact that I am not hitched with a few babies in tow.

Honestly, it used to make me feel inadequate.  Their questions used to ring in my ears that I started to believe them.  There must be something absolutely wrong with me.  But I finally reached the point of not caring.  And it's not in some kind of rebellious way.  I just know that my success is in the fact that I didn't marry the wrong guy.  (And I'm not saying he or they were bad men, they were just not for me.  The wrong guy doesn't have to be a bad person, the wrong guy just means he's not the right one for you.)

And I also think that marriage is about timing as much as it is about the two people involved.  Some people are mature enough and ready to be married at 23 or 25 or 30.  I wasn't one of them.   

So, here's where my tidbit on the book comes in (you see, it's really a book of advice and lessons from women who married or didn't marry the wrong guy):        

On Saturday, the young adults group from my church had a carwash/rummage sale fundraising, and since I assist with leading the group, I spent a long morning under the sun with them.  During one of our extended breaks between carwashes and sales, the young women asked me if I liked being single.  It's common knowledge that my family and friends have been trying to marry me off for years, and since I've never shown any interest, the rumor is that I just really don't want to get married.

"I do love being single, " I told them.  "But I so want to get married and have kids, too."

They were a little confused.  But in fact, for me, it's never been clearer.

The fact that I love my independence, my solitude and my single life guarantees for me that I won't marry the wrong guy.  Because although I want to get married and have kids, I know it's not the "end all, be all" for me.

So, this is what I've been sharing with the young women around me:

Don't rush to get married just because everyone else is getting married.  And definitely don't get married just because you think that you're getting older and should be married.

Choose a life partner, as well as a business partner.  You need to be with someone you can make big decisions with, and whose decisions you trust.  Be with the person who has your back no matter what. 

Be with someone you respect - whose actions you respect, whose decisions you respect - even when you don't like them. 

Physical attraction is important no matter what people say.  He doesn't have to be gorgeous or hot to the world, but he should be super-hot to you.

Comfortable silences make for a good relationship.  (My guy friends say this is where I am very much like a guy - I love silence.  You don't have to talk to me.  BUT, I know that if I feel awkward in someone's silence, probably not my guy.) 

Enjoy your alone time.  Enjoy being single.  Date.  Travel.  Make new friends.  Take an art class.  Take writing classes.  Go hiking.  Explore.  Try out new restaurants.  Do whatever you want to do. 

It's important to be with someone who can be brutally honest with you.  But being brutally honest doesn't mean being cruel or inconsiderate or hurtful.  It shouldn't be cruel or inconsiderate or hurtful.  I actually learned that from a guy I dated who was a few years younger than me.  On our second conversation, he said, "I'm dating other women, but my philosophy is that if we fall in love, we fall in love.  And if I want to just be with you, or you with me, then we should let the other know.  But for now, let's see where this goes.  I definitely want to see where this goes."  I thought, wow!  How could you be dating other women?  How could you want to be dating other women?  And how can you tell me this?  But then, I also appreciated his honesty.  And have always respected him for it.  He told me when I was being selfish and detached.  I told him that he was way too young for me.  He wanted a relationship.  I was still in love with someone else.  And that was that.       

You learn something from every relationship, so don't limit yourself.  And if you're not learning anything, then, maybe it's time to move on.

You'll know when it's right.  And you'll know when it's time to let go.  You'll also know when it's worth fighting for.  When it's worth a little more patience.  Or a little more time.  But you have to trust yourself.  And the way to trust yourself is to know yourself.  How can you trust someone you don't know?  So, spend time getting to know you before you spend time getting to know someone else.    

Now, enjoy yourself!  And just to let you in on another secret, there is truth to that saying that you meet someone wonderful when you're having fun and when you're most happy being single.  Always happens to me.


-- oh wait, p.s.  Be with someone who brings out the playful, silly kid in you.  And definitely, someone who makes you laugh.

p.p.s. - And most significantly for me, I trust God.  More than I trust myself.  And at the same time, I trust myself because I trust God.  And thus, when my heart breaks because it didn't work out with someone I really, really liked, or especially, someone I really, really, really loved, I trust that maybe he's not who God chose for me.  Or maybe, it's not our time.  Just yet.  I have great faith in the life I've been given.  With the good and the bad.  And honestly, that has made all the difference.   


*Disclaimer: I'm not and can't give any reviews on this book because I never finished it.  But if a therapist prescribes it, and I trust her judgment, then, give it a read if you want.  From what I read, it's a pretty good series of advice from women.  And sometimes, we just need to hear it from someone else, y'know. 

 

the conversation

My friend told me about this show, and after watching all three past episodes on Sunday, I'm hooked!  (You can check out the past episodes on the site here.)  It's not your typical interview-type show.  Amanda de Cadenet really engages with each person she talks to, and they have a "conversation" rather than a Q&A-type of interview. 

But, Amanda does end each conversation with the same two questions, which I found rather interesting: (1) What is your favorite sexual position?, and (2) What would you tell your 14-year-old self?  I won't answer the former, but the latter got my friend and I thinking.

At first, I thought I wouldn't tell her anything because just like Lady Gaga said in her response to the question, I wouldn't be who I am if I didn't go through everything I went through.  So, I wouldn't want to change anything.  But, I thought about it again, and again, and again.  And well, y'know, if I had a chance to make myself a better and happier 14-year-old, I would.  So, here's what I would tell her:

* Don't be so mean to Ms. Fowler. 

(You will want to thank her one day.)

* Don't overeat, and don't starve yourself.

* Join the Drama Department, and try out for that play.

* Keep taking piano lessons. 

* Don't quit ballet.  Dance dance dance. 

* Don't go out with boys who steal cars.

* There is nothing wrong with getting good grades.

* You are creative.  Embrace it.  Practice Practice Practice.

* There is nothing wrong with being different

from your best friends and their new crowds.

* Do your best always.  Don't be afraid to succeed.

* It's okay to cry over that boy you've loved since the fifth grade.  

Don't think you don't know what love is just because adults
tell you you're too young.
You will love him for the rest of your life.

* Everything will eventually be okay.

* You will be okay.

looking back, finding the answers, and moving on

I've been working on the story.  Y'know, the one I've been "struggling" with the last couple of years.  Anyhow, in my research through drafts of things I've written as part of this story or in relation to the story, I came across these two pieces that I had forgotten about.  But, I believe I was meant to find them today.  Because, like I said, I had forgotten.  And thus, lately, I have been struggling.  But, in reading these, I was reminded.  And I found my answers.  Here they are:

Love The Place You're In
One of my favorite lines from a poem was written by Lynda Hull in "Magical Thinking."  She wrote, "It is common human longing to want utterly to vanish from one life and arrive transformed in another."  I think I was five when I first wished my life to freeze at a certain moment, and everything that occurred thereafter was just a long dream.  The moment was the day before my dog, Sugar, died.  We were playing in front of my grandfather's house - I was the circus master, and Sugar was the acrobatic dog that could walk on a big red ball across the driveway to the yard.  Everyday, for years, after she died, I wished and prayed that her death was just a horrible nightmare.  Perhaps it was then I learned to live my life in memories of the "good ol' days," or in dreaming about an unknown future.  Somehow, this habit of mine kept me from living in the present, and I went through the next twenty-nine years always wanting to live in some other time or some other place.

But, of course, each time I woke up, I was still right where I was when I went to bed.  In Los Angeles.  The city I hated and loved.  The city I had always wanted to leave, and somehow, could never turn my back on.  I realized that each time the city loosened its grip, I would push my way back in and hold on tighter than ever.  I couldn't walk away.  I couldn't let go.

I just came back from vacationing in Europe, where I traveled through Spain, France, and Italy.  While there, I tried to imagine how my life would have been if I had studied abroad during my last year at USC.  I still clearly remember the day I decided not to go to Spain for the Study Abroad Program.  For hours, I sat near the fountain facing Tommy Trojan, rationalizing in my head that it was the right decision because financially, I just couldn't afford it.  Truth: I didn't want to leave my at-that-time-boyfriend.  But when he started becoming mean, and things didn't work out, I resented him for the decision I made.  And when I met J, I regretted my decision even more, and my resentment grew stronger.  I wondered whether I would have met J had I gone, and maybe, things would have been different.  Somehow, it seemed that J and I had so many missed encounters - two wandering souls meant to find each other but never doing so, until that moment in the library.

But during my trip, as I walked through the streets of Sevilla, I realized that J and I weren't meant to meet then, and we are not meant to have a "now" much more a future.  We were just a moment in time, which is now only a memory.  When that realization came, I no longer wished to be at another place or time.  I no longer yearned for the past that held him.  And my need to run away seemed to have disappeared leaving an unfamiliar, but reassuring, sense of stability.  It was, then, I knew I loved the place I was in - on that street corner facing Universidad de Sevilla, the fact that I was there on vacation, and the fact that after two weeks, I would be going home ... to the City of Angels. 

I thought, sometimes, you just have to stand still on a street corner in a foreign city, and let the life you could have lived run through you.  Then, open your eyes to the life you are living, to the moment you're in on that same street corner, where each block in all four directions are just as unfamiliar.  I decided I wasn't going to let the moment pass me by again.  I only have this life to live.  I may only have this moment to see what's in that next corner because who knows what the next moment will bring.  The possibilities are endless, which adds to the beauty of it all.


Message from Barcelona, May 18, 2008
I probably should be doing something else rather than spending time in an Internet cafe, but it's raining outside and I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to email my parents.  Also, I figured this is where "Maya and Dante"* started, so perhaps, this is where it should end.

During my flight to Madrid, where I spent my first three nights in Spain, I anticipated feeling nostalgic, and I feared that I was going to be overcome with "missing-J-syndrome."  I guess it was natural to feel such anticipation since I couldn't help but associate Spain (and a Europe trip in that matter) with memories of him, and with feelings of confusion about an unfamiliar future I was afraid to venture into.

But anyhow, this is not supposed to be about J.  Somehow, reminiscing about him, much more writing about memories we shared, always makes me feel that I'm somehow disrespecting his marriage, which I have no intention of doing.  So, this is about letting go.  Thus, that's why I decided to end the "Maya and Dante" blogs.  Without intending the story to unfold the way it did, it somehow just happened that the last post ends with Maya's own closure because through her story, I found my own closure, too.

I realized that I let J go a long time ago, and what I held on to all this time was the friendship we shared, and the comfort he always gave me.  When we've been hurt, it is only a natural tendency to hold on to what comforts us and what makes us feel better.  When we've been bruised too many times, it's only natural to want to keep close what eases our pain.  Thus, I needed to hold on to him to remind me not to gravitate to old habits of bad and unhealthy relationships.  Because it's easy to gravitate to what is familiar.  No matter how bad.  But J pulled me away from all of that, and it is the comfort he offered that I held on to.  I guess, I didn't trust that I could have the strength to pull myself away from another unhealthy relationship.  I guess, I didn't think I'd recognize when something was bad for me until it was too late.  But I realize now, I can do it on my own: walk away from things that are bad.  Without him to catch me when I fell.

So, I arrived in Madrid, and although the place was familiar with thoughts of him, I was different.  I didn't miss him.  I didn't feel lost and confused.  I don't know how I got to this state of just knowing, and no longer questioning.  But, somehow, I did.  And that, I know I did on my own.

For a long time, I wondered when J turned from the good-looking stranger I had a huge crush on to the friend who caused the end of life as I knew it.  But now, the answer to that doesn't matter so much.  All I need to know is that love happened.

... Most of the time, the answers to the questions that haunts us are really inside our hearts, and we'll find the answers if we only have the courage to look inside.  Love happens when we least expect it.  And that's the beauty of it all. 


*Maya and Dante was my original blog.  It's the story I've been working on.  A story I really finished four years ago.   

What if we skipped the in-between?

Over dinner last night, the topic of destiny came up.  My friend is a big believer in destiny.  In fate. 

I met someone I want to see again, but don't know how.  Yet, I told my friends that I believe if he's meant to be in my life, our paths will cross again.  It's just a matter of when.

I guess, you can say, I, too, believe in destiny.  In fate.

But, it's because I've witnessed it.  Been a part of it. 

I once dated a guy who I actually met two years prior to dating him.  We met in passing, work-related, spoke for a few minutes, and in those few minutes, I knew I liked something about him.  So much that I called my best friend afterwards and told her I just experienced a "big crush" moment.  I saw him one other time, within that same week, while I was having lunch with my best friend.  Perhaps, just so I can point him out to her.  Then, nothing.  Didn't see him again.    

Fast forward two years later, a different friend (who had no idea about my crush) sets me up.  With my "big crush."

Okay, we didn't work out.  But, he changed me.  He made a permanent mark in my life.

Then, after several other examples of friends of friends who've had past missed encounters with the person they eventually ended up marrying, we talked about the person I loved (and lost) long ago, the person called by friends as Mr. Wonderful.  And I told them how after getting to know each other, Mr. Wonderful and I realized we could've met five years earlier. 

At that my friend nearly screamed, "And you could've skipped the whole awful-ex-boyfriend part!"  (Yes, maybe, I could've.)  You see, the reason I didn't go to the exchange program where I could've met Mr. Wonderful was because I had just started dating the awful ex-boyfriend, and my young self didn't want to leave her boyfriend.  "You could've skipped all of that!" my friend said again. 

And that's when we pondered about: what if we just skipped the in-between?  If two people are meant to be together anyway, what's the point of the missed encounters, the brief meetings?  If Mr. Wonderful and I were meant to end up together anyway, why couldn't we have just met five years earlier?  So, I could've missed the whole awful ex-boyfriend part!

"But that's not life," my other friend said.  "You were supposed to go through the awful ex-boyfriend part!  You were supposed to experience that."  

God has a funny sense of humor.  Because life is quite an irony.  The reason I finally broke up with the awful ex-boyfriend?  Because I met Mr. Wonderful.   

And yes, we didn't work out either.  But he changed my life, too.  In such big ways.  And because of that, the questions had to be asked: what if we had met five years earlier?  Skipped all of the in-between?  Would we have worked out?

There are no answers to those questions.  That wasn't our life.  That wasn't our story.     

But, will I see this new, mysterious guy again? 

I think so.

In the meantime, I'm going to embrace this in-between part.  At least, I don't have the awful ex-boyfriend.  At least, I can enjoy it.  And I should.  And I will.  Because this is life. 

photo: Hidehiko Sakashita

berkeley.

I was in Berkeley this past weekend.  For a conference.  The last time I was here, it was for a high school speech tournament.  I can't believe I haven't returned since then.  Maybe it's because I felt ashamed and undeserving of returning.  You see, I really wanted to go to school here, but I didn't even try.  I was one of those girls who was afraid to leave her boyfriend.  The same boyfriend who cheated on me with a so-called friend right before an important competition.  I competed at Berkeley with a heavy and broken heart.  I didn't win, but I didn't care either.  Actually, I was proud to just be there.  That I was one of the few chosen to compete.  It goes without saying I went back to the cheating boyfriend, and didn't go back to Berkeley, but that's history.    

I can't believe that's what I thought about when I landed at the Oakland airport.  Something that happened years (I don't even want to say how many), years and years ago!

The thing about it though is that while I did remember that unfortunate experience, the memory didn't affect me in any way.  During the first evening of the conference, while I sat in this huge ballroom with rows and rows of chairs filled with attorneys from different backgrounds, ages, and levels of experience, listening to the Chief Justice of the California Supreme Court speak to us, I thought, I made it.

I realized that despite the detours, delays, and some setbacks, I still got to where I wanted to be.  Yes, I went back to the cheating boyfriend, but I did let him go.  Eventually.  And okay, perhaps, I made the same mistake again, afterwards, with another not-so-nice boyfriend.  But the great thing about life is that we can get back on track, and go where we want to be.  It's up to us.  Eventually, I let go of the not-so-nice boyfriend, too.  And I'm where I want to be.     

on working out (and life) + another great discovery in my neighborhood

I had a long day.  But, I went to Cardio Barre nonetheless!  It's my current obsession.  Pushes my body (and mind) to limits I thought I couldn't reach, and that feels empowering.  Not to mention, it reminds me of days of ballet practice (long, long ago!), and that is just priceless.

I can't believe February is almost over.  But, thank God for an extra day.  Yay for Leap Year!

A lot happened this month.  Another Secret Stairs Walk accomplished.  Another hidden treasure discovered right in my backyard.

Beachwood Canyon Walk: 2.6 miles, 861 steps.

Life is moving.  And it feels good.  The lesson is that no matter how much your heart is breaking, you have to keep moving.  And eventually, the hurt will subside.  Or, at the very least, it won't be too paralyzing.  Then, maybe in time, what was breaking your heart won't matter anymore.  It won't hurt anymore. 

But in the meantime, keep moving.  Never stop moving.   

       

life as of late

Busy. 

It's what I do when I'm happy.  It's what I do when I'm sad.  I keep busy.  But lately, I'm just keeping busy because I'm trying to make my dream come true.  And be a writer.  

And in doing that, I'm also busy embracing life.  I went out for a night in the city a couple of nights ago, and I fell in love. 

It's amazing what you discover by just opening your eyes.  When you open your heart. 

Love may just make its way in.   

you have to do things

"It's much easier to not know things sometimes.  Things change and friends

leave.  And life doesn't stop for anybody.  I wanted to laugh.  Or maybe get mad.

Or maybe shrug at how strange everybody was, especially me.  I think the idea is

that every person has to live for his or her own life and then make the choice to

share it with other people.  You can't just sit there and put everybody's lives ahead

of yours and think that counts as love.  You just can't.  You have to do things.  I'm

going to do what I want to do.  I'm going to be who I really am.  And I'm going

to figure out what that is.  And we could all sit around and wonder and feel bad

about each other and blame a lot of people for what they did or didn't do or what

they didn't know.  I don't know.  I guess there could always be someone to blame.

It's just different.  Maybe it's good to put things in perspective, but sometimes, I

think that the only perspective is to really be there.  Because it's okay to

feel things.  I was really there.  And that was enough to make me feel infinite

I feel infinite."

(Perks of Being a Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky)

Perks of Being a Wallflower has become one of my recent favorite books.  I read it for the first time over a year ago, and it's the first book I've read in a really long time that I just couldn't put down.  I remember forcing myself to go to sleep only to wake up at 3:00 a.m. just to finish it. 

And then, I laughed and cried myself to sleep.  Sounds crazy, huh?  I thought I was delirious.  Maybe it was the lack of sleep.  But I say, it was the story.  It was the characters.  It was the words spoken in the voice of a young boy and the girl he loved that just touched every nerve inside of me, and evoked the passions and loves and aspirations of my fifteen-year-old self. 

photo via

deciding, choosing, committing.

I walked outside earlier,

after the rain had stopped,

and I was greeted by the smell

of the nearing winter.

I'm wistful for the year that's almost gone,

but hopeful for the days to come.  

For the new year.

It'll be a different year ~

different in many ways.

Because I finally chose,

and making a decision that can

change the course of my life

has got to be the most exciting thing. 

ever!

Many exciting changes. 

Many exciting things to come.

That's what happens when you finally decide

that your life is yours.

And you can choose to take it

wherever you want.

Live.  It.  The.  Way.  You.  Want.

I know it took me awhile.

To get here.

To decide.

To choose.

But, you see, it's not something I take very lightly.

Once I decide, once I choose,

I commit.

And I'm committing!

(to many changes)

(to dreams long overdue)

{smile}

p.s. i love this song.  :)

Photo via

Trust

"Life is a great mystery to be lived

moment by moment, not a problem

to be solved once and for all."

(Jackson Kiddard)

Life does throw us curveballs.  Maybe to wake us up?  Make us move?  Take action?  Live.

It's been a rough couple of days.  And today just put the icing on the cake of BAD.  When it rains, it pours, right?  That's how the saying goes?  

But as rough as it has been, and as bad as today was, I'm once again reminded of how beautiful life is in all its trials and intricacies.  I'm surrounded by love and goodness. 

I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason.  Even the things that hurt us.  Because in time, it all works out.  Things fall into place.  And we eventually discover the reason why our hearts were broken in the first place.  And why, sometimes, accidents happen.

Okay, I admit, I don't understand why accidents happen.

But I believe that in some strange way, it is to test us.  I think I posted this quote before, but it's one of my favorite from The Alchemist.  I need to be reminded of it again. 

"before a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests everything

that was learned along the way.  It does this not because it is evil,

but so that we can, in addition to realizing our dreams,

master the lessons we've learned as we've moved toward that dream. 

That's the point at which most people give up.  It's the point at which,

as we say in the language of the desert, one 'dies of thirst just

when the palm trees have appeared on the horizon.'

"Every search begins with beginner's luck.  And every search

ends with the victor's being severely tested."

The boy remembered an old proverb from his country. 

It said that the darkest hour of the night came just before the dawn. 

Life does throw us curveballs.  And bad things happen.  Accidents happen.  But if we keep on going, tomorrow may be a better day.  Tomorrow all our dreams may come true.   

Desert Trip

I've always prided myself as being a city girl.  I LOVE the big city.  All the lights, the noise, the people, and the busy-ness of it all.  I feel alive in the big city.  I feel at home.  In my element. 

But this year, I took several trips to the desert.  And during my last trip not too long ago, I found myself drawn to the tranquility of the desert days and nights.  I fell in love with the night sky filled with stars and the sound of the whispering wind.  I felt a different kind of home. 

S, my oldest, best-est friend, asked me if I'd move there.  To the desert.  Well, actually, she said, I should move there.  With no question mark.  And when I saw the look on her face, that she really missed me, I couldn't lie to her: I'd have to have a good reason to.  Not that being closer to my oldest, best friend isn't a good reason, but I have my career and my family and my whole life in the city. 

But, I'd consider it, I told her. 

You see, I've always imagined myself living in two different places.  I just thought those two different places would be Los Angeles and New York.  I'd practice law in Los Angeles.  And I'd write and teach in New York.  I know people who do it.  And I told myself, one day, I will, too. 

But, then, I wouldn't mind writing in the desert either.  Something in the calm spoke to my heart.  My soul.  And touched a part of me that I didn't know existed.  Even the thunder and lightning (that freaked me out) gave me a jolt of inspiration. 

Plus, I love the drive there.  And if I could love that, then, I'm not quite the city girl I claim to be.  Here are some shots from my recent drive to and from the desert ... (I know I shouldn't be taking pictures, but I can't help not capturing the beautiful sky and scenic view.)       

Love it! :)

So, S said I could use her spare room.  Turn it into my office or writing space.  She's trying.  And I was touched.  I told her I'll come back in a couple of weeks.  Try it out and do some writing.  If I'm able to write two chapters, I might just take her up on her offer.  

New adventures are good.  Right?  And sometimes, even when we have no intention of going somewhere, we find ourselves there, and surprise ourselves.    

     

something to be thankful for

... even on days like today,

when I just want to curse attorneys and legislators for

drafting confusing statutes, codes and rules, that make my brain

do cartwheels, and then, left feeling like an overcooked, 

"twirly-twist" pasta at the end of the day.

There is always, always, always something to be thankful for, right?

Like a healthy delivery for my dear friend of her beautiful twin girls.

There is always something to be thankful for.

Even law school.

It warned me.

About days (many days) like this.

You see, on the first day of law school, they warn you,

that by your third year,

the sky will no longer appear blue.

Because a part of our training (law school) is 

to question everything -

and to find that everything is subject to interpretation.

Things are no longer simple.

Thus, the sky is no longer blue.

It is either shades of blue or gray or neither

because it really is just a mirror for the ocean, and thus,

only appears blue (or gray or neither).

Anyhow, since the majority of my day is spent twisting and turning

my brain to form the perfect (or most logical) argument for my case,

I try to simplify everything else in my life.

I no longer sit around trying to figure out what people mean when they say

(or not say) things.  I just take what they say or do (or not say or do) at face value. 

I'm too tired for coded messages.

(p.s. This was on my mind because my girlfriends are always,

always questioning, analyzing, doubting, a certain someone's

actions.  And really?  I'm too tired to participate in that.) 

Because everyday life is not to be analyzed and interpreted.

It is to be lived.

And I'm thankful that I can still do that.

Even on days like this.

Even on nights like tonight.

Because tonight will be a long, long night.

So, I am thankful that I can even take breaks like this to relax my poor, tired brain.

Have a wonderful Wednesday night!

(I will.  Even if it's in front of the computer analyzing jumbled legal jargon.)

Photo: Just Be Splendid

falling in love

Yesterday, I stepped out of the house early in the morning,

and was immediately greeted by the smell of fall. 

Followed by the embrace of its cool and crisp easy breeze.

I had missed you, I thought.  But now, you're here.

Gone for awhile, but never forgotten.

Because I knew you'd be back.

The same.  But different.

I closed my eyes.  For a brief moment.

And just took it all in.  The familiar smell.

The familiar and safe embrace. 

And I was overcome with feelings of

joy and excitement and hope.  Hope for all this season brings.

And that's when I felt my heart just smile.  I couldn't stop smiling.

And I knew, in my core, I was falling in love once again.

In love with everything around me.

The neighborhood I've gotten to know so well, yet,

everyday I notice something new - a swing in a neighbor's front lawn;

a toy on the porch; a new face walking by with the most adorable black pug.

In love with my family who greets me with the biggest smiles as if they

had just not seen me the week before.

In love with my friends, who in their own, unique ways, show

me they love me and just want to see me happy.

In love with this life I've been blessed with ~

though not one without disappointments, heartbreak and loss ~

it is beautiful.  Because in the midst of all those things I've still

found love.  And I'm grateful that my eyes and heart had been

opened to allow me to see that.  This life full of love.

And I'm grateful that I can fall in love everyday.

Right now, I'm in love with this life I have.

What are you in love with?

Photo: pixelmama 

 

Live life. Today.

My friend had always wanted to go to Venice.

And so when she finally got there, it was like her dream.  come.  true.

I told her that I've always wanted to go to Venice, too.

Since I was a little girl.  Back then, when I thought of Europe, I thought Venice.

When I dreamt of traveling, it was Venice on my mind.

But, when I finally got to Venice, years ago, I was so sick ...

high fever, chills, aching body ~ the works ~

Honestly, I couldn't fully enjoy Venice for all it had to offer.

But I tried.  Took strolls along the canals.

Watched the gondolas.

Even appreciated the swarm of pigeons. 

But still, I was disappointed.  In my poor, sick self.

My body (and mind) just couldn't enjoy the moment.

Even in Venice.

So, I promised her (Venice) that I'll be back one day.

I didn't ride the gondola, so that I could go back one day to ride it.

I haven't gone back.

But, I think I should go soon.

My friend told me that it's time to do things,

rather than just dream about them.  Or promise to do them one day.

She's right.

I know she is.

Because things come up.

And next thing you know, time passes ....

I just came back from the hospital.

My mom was taken to the ER.

And the doctors wanted to keep her for further observations.

As I was driving to the hospital,

I thought about my stepdad.

And I thought about what my mom said when he passed away.

About all the trips they wanted to take, but didn't.

And by the time they realized it, he was too sick to travel.

I thought about the story my friend told me

about an old couple she met on her trip.

The woman carried around a folding chair everywhere they went,

for her husband who walked with a cane.

My friend said that every time the husband needed to take a break,

the woman opened up the folding chair for him.

The woman told my friend that her husband almost died last year.

And his wish had always been to go to Rome.

So, when he got better after the near death experience,

they packed up their bags, and took off.  Hence,

they were there to tell my friend their story.

My friend told me that the woman never complained

about carrying that folding chair everywhere.

They just looked really happy.

So, tonight, on my way home, I told myself,

take that break.  Live life.  Stop putting things off.

Plan Venice.  Then, go.  Soon.

And in the meantime, buy that ticket

to the concert you've been wanting to go to.

Go watch a movie at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery.

Take that hike up the Silverlake stairs. 

And continue to smile often.  Even on days like today.

Love fully.  Tell people you love that you love them.

That you miss them.  And that you want to see them.

Tell my mom I love her. 

I don't know what I would do without her.

Embrace every moment.

Photo via  

Remembering our heroes

I had an amazing weekend.  But honestly, I feel a little weird saying that considering that this weekend is the ten-year anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy, when so many lives were lost, and we as a nation grieved for them.  But personally, I think it was also a time when heroes stepped up, and provided hope.  And it is because of those heroes that I thought why not just write about this amazing weekend? 

You see, there are many heroes in our lives although many of them are often unrecognized.  But this weekend, I remembered mine.  And I realized that God does place certain people in our lives, at the precise time when we need them, and those people become our heroes to help us through, and give us hope.

On Friday night, I went to see the Tchaikovsky Spectacular at the Hollywood Bowl.  And just to warn you, you'll probably see the word amazing on this post many times, but it was just AMAZING!  The moment the orchestra started to tell the story of Romeo and Juliet, I felt as if this huge, heavy drape that was over my body began to lift up.  And as the music got louder, intense, and then soften to a romantic melody, I felt the drape drop away from me, and my body was free.  At that moment, I felt every sound, every note, that came from the orchestra.  And by the time Swan Lake began, I was me again.  Me before the tragedies of my life happened.  And I remembered the girl who wasn't afraid to express herself.  The girl who wore faded jeans, peasant tops and mismatched shoes, and always had daisies or sunflowers (or both) in her hair, even when she was often reminded that she was in the wrong decade (and was so out of season).  The girl who took her oversized Keroppi to school, and made sure he had a seat next to her in class (and this was senior year of high school).  The girl who made tape recordings to declare and profess her love to her high school boyfriend.  The girl better known as the memory keeper.  And the girl who was not afraid to stand up for a cause, and speak her mind.  The girl who wanted to be a dancer, an actress, a writer and a lawyer, all at the same time.

The girl before the conglomeration of tragedies. 

You see, the unfortunate consequence of tragedies are these protective layers that start to hover over us .  And the more tragedies that come our way, that protective armor, those huge, heavy drapes, or big, stone walls, become so great that we get lost in them.  And eventually, forgotten.

I became lost in mine.  For a long time.
 
But something happened this weekend.  Maybe it was Tchaikovsky.  Or I've just been reading a lot of old letters and journals.  Or it's the 9/11 anniversary.  However, I realized that we all have our stories and we all have our tragedies, but the tragedies of mine are no longer relevant.  What matters is that I survived them.  Because tragedies happen and will happen, but what matters is what we do with those tragedies.  How do we respond?   Do we fold?  Or do we fight for our lives?  For our happiness?  Now, looking back, I realize that although I was battered, bruised and broken for a long time, I always had some hope.  And when that hope was diminishing, God placed people in my life, to remind me of it.  To give it back to me.  To believe in me when I didn't believe in myself.            

On Saturday night, I went to the Harvest Crusade at the Dodger Stadium.  It was the most humbling experience.  And I felt rejuvenated.  Found.  But most of all, grateful.  And blessed.  As Chris Tomlin sang Amazing Grace, I thought, yes, it's because of God's grace that I'm here.  Happy.  Really happy.

And like the wonder of life, today I came across a treasure.  As I was cleaning up boxes of old documents and letters and books, I came across a manila envelope with the word "Speech" written across it.  Inside were copies of my junior high newspaper with my bylines in them; my elementary school "yearbook" where "lawyer" was written under my ambition; cards from my Speech coach encouraging me to be a winner; and a college letter recommendation from my English teacher.  By the time I finished reading the letter, I was crying.  Because, like I said, life happened and it was not so nice at times, and the letter reminded me of how God placed people in my life to help me through my battles.  My English teacher wrote the letter as a second, special recommendation after I got rejected from the university I really wanted to go to.  I hand delivered that letter to the University head of admissions after sitting in the waiting area outside of his office all day.  I still didn't get into the school.

But I am a lawyer as I aspired.   

And I thank my heroes for that. 


 

Photo: Flavio

I've learned that ...

"I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.  I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.  I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.  I've learned that making a 'living' is not the same thing as making a 'life.'  I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.  I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back.  I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.  I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone.  People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.  I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.  I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

-- Maya Angelou

I discovered Maya Angelou while I was in college.  I was a big fan of poetry before then, but it was her poems that inspired me.  To keep writing.  Because I could.    

Photo: fanigeor

On being in love. Again.

Last weekend, my girlfriends and I took a roadtrip.  To Vegas.

It was supposed to be a wild-and-oh-so-silly-crazy-bachelorette-weekend.

But we were as tamed as Catholic school girls can be on a field trip with chaperoning nuns.

(meaning: we tried to act wild, but just couldn't do it.)

(We were silly though.  And well, crazy is arbitrary.)

Nonetheless, we had loads of FUN!

I believe girl time is always needed.

We didn't talk about work,

which was surprising, but oh-what-a-relief!

We hardly talked about men,

which was also surprising, but oh-so-refreshing, too!

I just have so many favorite moments from the weekend,

but what I really, really loved - was the drive to Vegas.

It was just me and my very-good-friend-twice-roommate.

It has been over a decade since she and I had taken a roadtrip

together.  But as we talked about life as it is,

and reminisced about life as it was,

I remembered why we were good friends.

(Have been since the tenth grade.)

Complete opposites. 

And thus, life definitely took us on different paths.

But we got each other then.  And we still get each other now.

And even when we don't, we listen to each other.

And I found, that's what matters.

The thing about being around old friends,

we are reminded about the old us.

And reminders of the old us

are the best measure of growth.

By the end of the weekend, I realized

that I really am in love.  Again.

This time with life.  As it is.

And being in love with life

is being in love with everyone and everything in it.

I'm in love with my nephew's voice,

and his laugh and his silly ideas.

I'm in love with the way

my brother always texts me in the middle

of the day with his quirky jokes.

(Father and son are more alike than they realize.)

I'm in love with the way my mom

loves life no matter how hard it has been for her.

I'm in love with the fact that I can work from

anywhere (Internet is the best!),

(but I still try to make it into the office earlier than everyone else).

I'm in love with ice cream at 3pm.

I'm in love with the way my friends and I can

smile (or smirk or frown) at each other and know exactly

what we are thinking.

I'm in love with text kisses and hugs and <3s

that bring a big smile to my face (and tingle to my heart)

anywhere I may be or whatever I may be doing.

I'm in love with the way the wind feels against my face,

the way coffee tastes in the morning, and the fact

that Criminal Minds comforts me and keeps me company.

Life is funny, I told my friend.

Everyday, every moment can bring new surprises.

"Our lives can change with every breath we take."

(By the way, that's from a movie - Where the Heart Is.)

But, I believe it.

So, I told her, your life can change, too.

My life certainly did.

You've seen that.

You knew me then.

Who would have ever guessed I'd be in love with life?

p.s. I'm in love with the peanut butter malted milkshake depicted above.  Yum!

Photo: food+words