I Dreamed A Little Dream

Vent time: Sorry for the corny stuff everyone but I just had to write about this. A couple nights ago I had a dream about my late brother Salvador Lua who passed away when I was 18 years old in 2001. He was 35 years old, married to our sister-in-law Sylvia, and has a little girl we all call Miniquis. I often write/talk about him and praise him for stepping into our lives as the father figure after my dad Rafael Lua passed away in May 1995. For those of you who know me well, I often get dreams about my dad and Chava (Salvador’s nick name). And sometimes there are a little hard to handle. I’ve actually written about this before as you may see in my previous blogs. But this dream was a very sweet dream that felt so real. It wasn’t sad or depressing. It only got sad when I woke up and realized it was just a dream. Well anyway, in the dream Chava, Sylvia and Miniquis were living in Indio, which is about an hour away from our hometown of Brawley, and owned a very successful Mexican restaurant. On a Saturday afternoon, my brother Edgar, my sister Vanessa, my mother, and I all went to go visit them for the day. We had lunch at his restaurant and then went and spent the day at his beautiful house with his family. It felt as if nothing ever happened. So un-interrupted and peaceful. It was beautiful. So, inspired by my dream, I decided to write a little poem about it. I hope you like it.


I dreamed a little dream

It wasn't real but yet realistic
I swear I could hear your voice
I saw you there with your girls
Now my eyes begin to moist

You welcomed us like you always did
With open arms into your home
You’re little one calling you “dad”
It’s so hard to write this poem

Seeing a “could have been” life
Wondering if you would have been this happy
It’s not fair, my 18 years were still short
But I consider myself lucky

It doesn’t matter how much time may pass
Or endless prayers I send over the moon
My scars have yet to be healed
My heart is still an open wound

The clitter clatter of your keys
The breathy sound of your laughter
The simple things one can miss
The simple things you think of after

Your devotion to our mother
The protection you bestowed upon me
The love you had for us all
We carry whole-heartedly

Though we don’t see you every day
We’re known for all having the same eyes
I see you at the sight of Edgar or a sister
Maybe I never have to say goodbye

But for now keep visiting my dreams
They’re all I’ve got and hang on to
They may make me cry
But at least in them I get to love you

Love Always,
Your Sister Chena

In The Spirit of Halloween……(I know! It’s late!)

I know I’m a few days late for posting this Halloween blog, but I figured “better late than never.” In the spirit of Halloween’s ghosts and goblins, I wanted to re-count some of my past frightening moments I’ve had.

I’m not much of a scaredy cat. As a matter of fact, I love scary movies and have loved them ever since I was a kid. I never had nightmares or thought that “Jason” or “Freddy Krueger” was going to attack me. The things that did scare me were the ones that started with “based on a true story.” Whenever a scary film or a novel starts off with “based on true story,” that makes me question the legitimacy of the story. If it says it’s true, then did it really happen?

Let me start off with my earliest memory of being frightened by something “based on a true story.” I remember my family and I were living in New Campo, which is a poor sub-division in Brawley, where the rent is cheap. My younger relatives and I called it the “fancy projects” because they were two-story attached apartment homes and nicer looking than the real projects. Anyway, I think I was about 8 or 9 years old and I remember we were all getting ready to go to Mexicali one night. While I was sitting in the living room, I was watching the local news that was broadcasting from Mexicali. I was watching a news segment in Spanish talking about how some owners of a restaurant believe their restaurant was haunted. The camera crew followed the owner around the restaurant and showed them the restroom where the customers complained about creepy noises and strange activity. I didn’t think too much of it at the moment I was watching it, but got a little scared. I thought “well, we don’t live in Mexicali so I think we’re fine.”

About an hour later we were all in Mexicali and everyone decided to have dinner there. I wasn’t sure the name of the restaurant we went to but it was at a Chinese food place. The moment I walked into that restaurant, I felt this blanket of fear over my body. I balded my eyes and thought to myself “Oh my God! This looks exactly like that restaurant!” I took my seat closest to my mom and dad and tried to stay as far away from the restroom as I could. Until, however, my mother told me “Ve lavate las manos” (Wash your hands). I screamed in my head “QUEEEEEE!?” (Whaaaaat!?). The restaurant already looked exactly like the one in the news segment and I was not about to find out if the restroom was the same too. But I braved myself and slowly walked to the restroom almost frozen with fear. To my biggest fear, at that time, the restroom looked exactly the same I had seen a couple hours before on the news segment. I walked slowly like I was walking on eggshells, washed my hands as quickly as possible, and ran out! I don’t remember ever telling my mom I was scared, I just remember dealing with it.

Later on that night when we were all home, I laid on my bed very still not wanting to move because I didn’t want to reflect any attention on me. I remember closing my eyes and trying to fall asleep when I SWEAR TO YOU I felt hands on my neck!!! I thought…..IT FOLLOWED ME! IT FOLLOWED ME!!! I sharply opened my eyes and started to slowly make my way to the door. I was sharing a room with my sister Carmen and we had really squeaky floors so I was trying to be as quiet as possible. As I was tip-toeing across the room, almost to the door knob so I can get to my mom and dad, a squeaky sound submerged and Carmen woke up! “What are you doing Chena! Go back to bed!” Having to listen to my sisters just like I listen to my mother, I turned around and slept in fear that night!

I don’t remember how I got over this fear but it was rather quickly. I seem to get over fears like this quickly all the time. Ok so the second one was a little harder on me than the first one. When the movie “Fire in the Sky” first came out I was excited to see it. As I usually am with scary movies. However, when I saw in the subtitles “based on a true story,” I probably should have stopped watching it! I was just ten years old when this movie came out and I had seen it at the drive-in theater with some family members. The thing that really freaked me out was all the things the aliens did to that poor guy. I remember when the movie was over all I would do is look up at the sky and make sure I don’t see anything “suspicious.” I remember I couldn’t sleep for weeks thinking that I was going to be abducted! But the more time passed, the less fear I felt and was soon back to normal. I stopped looking for aliens. To this day, I will NOT watch that movie again! I’d rather go on the rest of my life not believing in them.

Throughout my teenage years, there really wasn’t much I was afraid of. By then the fear of “la mano peluda” and “la llorona” had already resided. For those of you who don’t know “la mano peluda” is this freakishly-looking hand that comes out at night to attack kids. And, “la llorona” is the crying women that appears at night looking for her children but when she can’t find them, she grabs any child that is near her. Both of these urban legends were and are still big in the Latin community. In my early and late teen years, it was more about spirits. I especially had an interest when my dad and brother died. I remember one night my mom had told me that she had woken up to the smell of flowers in her room and when she opened her eyes, she saw a blue glow next to the bathroom door. She said it didn’t scare her, but instead comforted her. She said she felt it was my dad coming by to see her. Another time we experienced something like this was when my mother, myself, my brother Edgar, and Vanessa were all in the living room and dining room having breakfast. Right before, we were about to leave for school, we heard what sounded like a window sliding to be closed. It wasn’t a loud, angry sound, but more of a “oh let’s not leave until we close that window” sound. It was strange, but not scary. At that moment, I remember thinking “oh it’s probably Dad!”

One more fright past before I get to my current spooks. When I was 20, I had moved out of Brawley to go to school at CSUSM. When I arrived at the dorms, I was lucky to be friends with a girl named Clarissa who I had met through my sister Lupe. Clarissa and I were close right from the beginning. Being from the same area and our families knowing eachother, it was easy to get a long with her. One day when she was visiting her family, I had called her home number to see if she was available to talk because she hadn’t answered her cell phone. Her dad answered and said “Hola, que paso mija” thinking that I was Clarissa calling the house. I quickly said “No, it’s Jessenia. Is Clarissa there?” After I had hung up the phone, I had this sudden realization that I will never have a conversation like that in my life. I will never have my dad asking me how I’m doing, I will never have my dad call me “mija” again, and I will never talk to my dad on the other end of the phone. A somber feeling came over me and all I could do is cry. That night before I went to bed, I opened my window and lifted the curtains. I looked at the stars and began to pray to my dad and brother telling them how much I miss them. I closed my eyes to go to sleep but when I couldn’t, I looked up to stare at the sky again. When I was looking at the sky, I suddenly saw two big sparkling stars close to eachother. They were not there a moment before when I was praying. I remember thinking “Hi Apa. Hi Chava.” I know! This really sounds crazy, but I wouldn’t write about it if I didn’t believe it was them comforting me and reminding me that they’ll always be there for me. Ok, so this wasn’t so much of a scary thing, but more of a strange spiritual thing.

Some of my current spooks haven’t been that bad. I don’t really believe in ghosts but that’s because I haven’t seen one. Or, maybe I have? In my junior year in high school, Andrea and I were at Mariko’s house working on a project and when we were finished my mother came by to pick us up. As Andrea and I were approaching the car, I usually take the front seat, we saw a figure sitting in the front seat so we both went around to the back. We thought it was Vanessa sitting there and while we were on our way home, I asked “what ya doing Vanessa?” It got quiet. My mom said “La Vanessa esta en la casa” (Vanessa’s at the house). Andrea and I looked at eachother with surprise were like “What!?” We both swear we saw someone sitting in the front seat!

Ok that’s enough of the past! Well, not too long ago when I was living with my girls at Barham in San Marcos, we thought we had a ghost in our apartment. We had lips smeared on our hallway mirror and a hand print that belonged to none of us. Marybel swore that she saw a man standing by her bed one night. It spooked her so bad that she asked Andrea to sleep with her. I didn’t believe in this ghost that was living with us until I was in our garage. One night I was in our garage bent down vacuuming the floor matts of my car when I felt fingers walking on my back. I yelled “Andrea stop it! I’m ticklish!” I continued to feel the tickling up my back so I laughed saying “Andrea stop it! haha!” and when I turned around, nobody was there. Um…..yeah…..I believed it then. I think that was the only time I ever experienced anything there. Andrea and Marybel experienced more I think.

So do I believe in ghosts? I don’t know. Do I believe in spirits? Not sure. Do I believe in aliens? I hope not! Even though I love scary movies, I cannot watch them alone. I prefer to watch them with someone else. It might creep me out for a bit but only momentarily. I like the suspense behind it all. I think it’s exciting and fun! I think a part of the reason why I never really got scared of scary movies was because my mom would always tell me that it’s not real. I remember she would always say that nothing scares her. And everytime she said it, I believed her. Until one day I was lying on her bed, I think I was 17 or 18, and I asked her “So, you’re not scared of anything mom?” and she said “Si, nada me da miedo” (yea, nothing scares me). At that moment I felt protected and safe. But then she added “Pero cuando los perros ladran sin saber que esta causando que ladren tanto, eso me asusta porque los animals pueden ver lo que los humanos no pueden” (But when the dogs bark without knowing what is causing them to bark and behave strangely, that scares me because animals see things that humans can’t). And now, everytime I hear a dog bark, I better find out why the hell that damn dog is barking! Hope you had a wonderful Halloween!

Jessenia Lua

P.S. I posted some pictures of my girls and I dressed for Halloween this year! Yes, we were cholas! Orale esa! Broleñas all the way!


Oh and a quick shout out to my sisters Vanessa, Lupe, and Mary! All October babies! Happy Birthday Hermanas! I love you!

Ode To The Offspring of My Siblings

Ok, I swear this’ll be the last corny thing I write about. I have plenty of interesting topics to write about, but nothing inspires me more than my own family. So, stay tuned…….

One of the greatest things about coming from a large family is that there are that many more people in your life to love. The great thing about being one of the youngest in my family is that I get to see my oldest siblings have children. Aaaaah yes! The joys of children! Not that I don’t enjoy children, but I don’t imagine myself ever having any. Of course, that statement alone isn’t set in stone, so that could change in my future. However, for now, I take pride and love from the ones my siblings have, or hopefully will have in their future. Together I have eight nieces and nephews. Some close to my age, and one just under two years old. I hold a very distinct relationship with each and every one of them and no matter how long it has been since I’ve last seen or spoken to them, the love I have for them is as fresh as a ripe orange.

Starting with Josh, who can make you laugh at the drop of a dime, even though he and I have had our differences before, his quick sarcastic puns will keep you laughing after a couple hours the joke was told. Josh and I are the same age, actually he’s a month older, and I was always jealous of how much smarter he is than me in everything. We once took a history class together in Jr. College and I would always study very hard for that class, but he wouldn’t. I would get so angry at how he could easily answer all of the professor’s questions without looking for the answers. I would be flipping through my notes while he just blurted out the answers. “Jackass!” I would think to myself. Yeah I know it was mean of me to think that, but I was jealous of the fact that he knew all the answers even though he didn’t even study! But that was kind of expected from Josh. He has always been so smart without even trying. Kind of like my brother Edgar. I remember after school when Edgar and I would do our homework together. He would be sitting at the dining table for one hour, while I was there for almost five hours trying to finish. And guess who brought home the 4.0 gpa? Not me! I was lucky if I got by with a 3.0. I remember the difference in our high school graduating class. He was a proud number nine out of his entire class. While I was a lousy 83 in mine. Yup! That’s quite a difference! To this day, I still wish I was more like him.

Anyway, following Josh is his sister Johanna, who always seems to get caught in everything she tries to hide (sorry Jo, but this is true and everyone knows it). Her obvious subtle ways to be discrete are always disrupted by not being able to hide the proper way. It’s kind of like a square trying to hide in a circle so to speak. That’s why she would always get into trouble, because her corners would always be popping out from the circle! And you know this is true Jo!! But whether people know this or not, Jo has a true devotion to her family that took a while to come out. It might have taken a while to come out and be able to recognize it, but you know what……..I think it was worth the wait. I see that devotion in her now more than anything and I think the mistakes she has made in her past shaped her for that, which is actually the case in many of us. Another thing I admire about her is her talent in poetry. I know she doesn’t show much of it at all, but what I have been lucky enough to read goes far beyond what I could imagine writing myself. She has a true talent.

And following Johanna is her younger brother Giovanni. Giovanni! Giovanni! Giovanni! You, who I remember trying to put to sleep when you were a baby so you would stop crying. You, who hung from my hair like swing mad at me for not letting you go to the store with me. You, who almost overnight I realized that you are becoming (or actually already are) a young man. Just like Johanna, you too have a devotion to your family. I see the kind of relationship you have with your dad and I incredibly admire that. If only I could be so lucky. I see wonderful things in your future and I hope you don’t let anything stop you.

And now I come to Marybel, or for those of us in our family, Mari. My sister Mary’s only daughter. Oh man, there isn’t enough time to write about my partner in crime. All the trouble we got into, all the joys we’ve been through and hoping for much more to come. I know our relationship goes from strong to weak, weak to strong, like a teeter totter, but in the end we always balance out because we mean that much to each other. Just like last Thursday when I went over to your apartment and we hugged each other because we hadn’t seen each other in a while even though we live like ten mils apart. I know our lives can take us in different directions but hugs like the one we had last Thursday always connects me back to you. I know I’ll always have you and you’ll always have me.

Now it’s time for Estefania, or for those of us in our family, Miniquis. I wish we could see more of you but I understand the conflictions that come between our families. But everytime I see you, it’s a little reminder of your dad Chava (late brother). I always remember the time when I went to your dad’s house and he was holding you asking you to repeat something he taught you to say. He taught you to say “tres cinco cinco” and when you would repeat it, it would come out “tes ico ico” and he would bust out laughing!! You sounded so cute trying to say those three words. I think that with your dad’s death you matured faster than you needed to, which isn’t always a bad thing, but it would have been nice for your dad to see that. It would have been nice for your dad to see what a wonderful little girl you are, and the wonderful lady you will become.

Next up on my list (don’t worry, I’m almost done) are my sister Lupe’s kids Gessell, Brandon, and Savina. Let me start with Savina! Ay Savina! Savina! I don’t think there’s a more perfect name for you. You came into a perfect time in our lives a year and a half ago. Born on our late dad’s birthday, you literally brought everyone to tears on that day. I still can’t believe that the doctor let that many Mexicans in that hospital room! Do you guys remember? Everybody was in there! Even Carlos!! I know I missed your birth by like six seconds (and trust me, I was upset. I was cussing at the old lad in the elevator for moving too slow and my mom was yelling at me “calmate!!”) But, I think the right person was in that delivery room with you. I think it was better her than me. Not that I didn’t want to be there, because I did!

Now……Brandon! Oh Brandon! I see that you have your mother’s heart and your dad’s spirit. You take care of Gessell as if you were her big brother, when in fact, she’s a few years older than you. I always remember you’re reaction when I would ask you “Brandon, what would you do if Gessell had a boyfriend?” and you would angrily respond “I would beat him up!” while punching your fist into your hand making sure you show Gessell that you are her protector. You may be a younger brother, but your older brother characteristics show more devotion to your sister. And I’m sure you’ll be just an awesome older brother to Savina.

Lastly, but definitely not least, there is Gessell. You are growing up so fast before my eyes that I have to remind myself not to talk to you like a little girl anymore. I keep having to remind myself that you are a young woman now and I am damn proud that you asked me to be your nina (godmother for communion and confirmation). I’m sure everyone knows this, but you and I have a strange connection that is almost unexplainable. From the moment you were born, to the last time I saw you, we bond in a way that is stronger than friends but more than family. I know right! It doesn’t make sense! But maybe that’s the good thing about it. Great things don’t always have to be explained. That’s why they’re great and unique! There is so much about you that I admire. Your creativity, your generosity, your honesty, and most of all, your heart. I see so much of your mom in you and just like many of us, you hold your family deeply close to your heart. I remember your dad telling me this and I hope he doesn’t get upset with me for writing this, but I remember he said “Man, I feel like Gessell is so good right now that she is setting the standard too high for anything else she does. I feel like I will be very disappointed the day she falls in love because I can’t choose that person for her. I can’t be the one to say ‘choose this guy, he’s the best one.’” (quote is not word for word, just based on what I remember from that conversation.) That showed me how proud your dad is of you. We are all so very proud of you and I am for sure excited what your future brings. You are such a bright and intelligent young lady and I trust that whatever direction you choose to take your life in, it will be at your greatest attempt. You see people for who they truly are and give chances to those who deserve them. I always remember telling you “Be nice to someone because you want to be. Don’t be mean because everyone else is.” And based on the conversations we have had, I trust that you truly have a kind heart.

Well, this is the last of them. I don’t know what made me decide to write about my nieces and nephews. Maybe it’s because I wanted to recognize a piece of my extended family for a bit. Either way, thank you for reading and I hope you leave nice comments :)

Jessenia Lua
Your Tia!

A Letter To The Lua Sisters……

Not too long ago, I decided to write a letter to my sisters. I think it was around the time I moved into my own apartment and was feeling the difference between having roommates around me to suddenly living alone. After I wrote this letter, I made several copies of it and sent it to all of my sisters including my late brother’s wife Sylvia. I’ve always considered her family no matter what. Anyway, below is my letter to them. I hope it inspires you to stay close or re-build a relationship with your loved ones. Enjoy…

Dear Lua Sisters,

Even though I don’t talk to you everyday, I think about you everyday. I know it seems like it’s an impossibility, but it is impossible to not think about you everyday. Even if it’s for a fraction of a second, you are in my mind every single day. Just like Dad and Chava. Yes, they are gone but ever since they left, they remain in my heart and in my mind everyday. It’s not something that I have to remind myself to do; it’s just something that happens. Not out of habit, but out of natural life almost. I feel like I cannot function my day without the thought of you. Whether I’m walking to my car, doing my laundry, or picking up some groceries, you are still in my heart and in my mind. I know it sounds weird to others. But, not really to me. When I pray about you, I feel like God sends a magical orb around you and your families to protect you. And when that happens, it makes me feel so safe. I may be physically far from you but you’re less than a conscious second away. I look at you in ways that always inspire. Inspire me to be better, to know more, and to believe in miracles because of your sole presence in my life. I always thank god for the blessings of you. Having sisters like you is like having many layers of arms ready to catch me when I fall. There is no better feeling of that security. I thank our amazing parents for creating the lives of eight amazing children. Many things can go wrong with so much responsibility, but the right things were taught to us the right way that we’ve managed to stay together. I wouldn’t exactly say managed because it seems like it was effortless. An effortless love that exist among us all. We are so lucky that it doesn’t feel like we have to try to love one another because we naturally do. I cherish the mental connection between all of us. I say mental connection because in my mind I always picture a “connect the dot” pattern connecting us no matter where we are. And, no matter where I am and what I’m doing, I’ll always be thinking of you, my sisters. I love you.

From your sister Chena,
Jessenia Lua Garcia

UPDATE!!!

It’s hard to not start this update on my money problems and not think about how blessed I am to have my family and my job. First off, I knew that when I wrote that last blog about my money problems, that I would get criticism from my family and friends. Well, mostly from my family. I was expecting the “You need to be more responsible…” speeches and I understand the need for that to be said to me. If it were my younger sister going through the same thing, I would probably be giving her that same speech. However, I didn’t write it so that I can have people feel sorry for me or have them offer me financial help. If you look at the record of my past blogs, you’ll notice that a lot of them include stories about my family, but mostly they include my late dad and brother. I tend to write about what’s on my mind. And during the time I wrote that last blog, my money problem was consuming my brain. It was overwhelming me so much that I couldn’t even concentrate on my school work. I had already accepted the help of my mom when she offered it and I shamefully took it. It’s not easy asking for help, but being as close to my mom as I am, I took her help even though I didn’t want to. And I know that my mom is so deeply connected to all her kids, that when one of us stresses, she stresses. I know I stressed her a lot on that phone call, but to be honest, I don’t feel I could talk to anyone else like I do with her. Maybe this is one part of my life that I truly need to change. But asking me to not talk to my mom in the moments I feel that I need to, is like asking her to disappear. And I could not handle that. I just got a little teary-eyed thinking about it. But I do know this…….I don’t ever want to be in this situation again and am learning how to fix it myself. So hopefully this will never happen again and I will never have to call my mom with a similar phone call. I learn a lot from my mom, even in my desperate times, and I think she learns from me. I trust her enough to tell her my secrets (even though I may not have many) and I trust her to always love her kids. I was certain that she was going to tell all my sisters that I had a boyfriend this summer, but to my surprise, she kept it a secret because I had asked her to. It’s like every year she becomes more of this angelic figure in my life that I wish I could be. One day I will write a book about her. A woman like her needs to leave a legacy. And I hope to capture it in my words and in the words of everyone she whole-heartedly touched.

Now, with mom’s help I was able to get over a little speed bump before I had to climb a huge mountain that was followed by the speed bump. Enter: walmart! I obtained a second job working nights and weekends at walmart to help me pay off the check advances I got myself into. Yes it totally sucks working there but I need the job! A typical weekly schedule would be wake up at 7:30am, be at my full time job by 9am, leave my full time job by 5:30pm, change and get to walmart by 6pm, cashier for 4 ½ hours to rude people who constantly complain about the long lines, get hit on by old greasy short men (yes, this is actually true), leave walmart by 10:30pm, pass out when I get home (not even thinking about homework), and wake up to repeat it all over again (except on Tuesdays and Thursdays when I had night class). And of course let’s not forget the weekend shift, which included 8-hour shifts where my feet begin to hurt so badly from standing on them all day.

I don’t know how much longer I’ll last. With the check advances I got myself into, I thought I was going to have to do this until Christmas came. However, my boss at my full time job (where I’ve been at for more than four years) was able to help me out in this situation. I sat across her desk and explained to her what I was going through. With tuition, the check advances, and the late school loan that I was supposed to recieve, I had fallen way behind. She asked me “Ok, how much do you need to cover all of it?” I was embarrassed to say, but I told her. And within a matter of minutes, the check was written and I was off to the bank. At that moment, I felt so incredibly blessed. Yes, I do have to pay that money back, but with no interests and it will slowly be deducted out of my future paychecks at the amount I am able to pay.

At the suggestion of my sister Lupe, I started a balance sheet. I started it so that I can closely watch my finances and never have to borrow from check advances again or from anyone. I’ll slowly but surely be able to pay back my mom, sister Mary, and my job. But for now…..I’ll just count my blessings. Thank You.

Jessenia Lua

Woe To Me And My Freakin’ Money Problems :(

Ok so I have about a million ideas to blog about, but lately I haven’t had much of a drive to write about anything other than to woe in my current financial situation. Yes, it is embarrassing to discuss such financial matters but I’m sure I’m not hiding anything when I traded my free nights and weekends to a second job as a cashier at walmart. This isn’t to say that my Monday through Friday 9 to 5 job doesn’t pay well, because it does. I just fell into this deep hole of having to borrow from one of those cash advance places, pay them back, and then borrow again because I can’t fully pay them back in one spot. And the most embarrassing part of it all is that I have more than one advance. I won’t say how many because that is beyond my embarrassment tolerance level. I only told one friend and I trust her enough not to say anything. She has been there for me during my “I’m so freakin’ broke” crying fits. Heck, she was even listening to me cry about it last night! Thanks girl!

The thing that bothers me the most is that I don’t even remember how it got started. It’s like an endless evil cycle. Let me paint you a picture of how you can go from having one advance to…..well……more than one, cause I still won’t say how many I have. So, you’re short on cash and probably need about an extra $80 bucks or so to get you through your next paycheck. You probably wouldn’t have been short $80 bucks if you hadn’t gone out to eat so much, spent money on Mac makeup, or bought that shirt at Fashion Bug. You go to your nearest advance location and ask to borrow some money. If you qualify, and I did, you can borrow up to $300 dollars. However, their fee is $45 dollars, so in return you would only walk out with $255 dollars even though you only needed $80. Now you have all this extra money and are thinking “Hmmm…what to spend it on….” So by your next paycheck, you have to return to the advance location and pay them back those $300 dollars. Since you spent all that money, even though you were only looking for $80 bucks, you will have $300 missing from your next paycheck. That is a significant difference in someone’s paycheck, especially mine. So, you think: “I can’t afford to pay them back now, so I’ll borrow again.” So, you walk out with another $255 dollars but now you lost $45 dollars because of their fee. You don’t want to lose that $45 dollars, so you find another advance location to cover that missing gap. Yes, it’s silly because it’s only $45 dollars, but when you can’t afford to even miss that money, you find a way to cover it. AND, since you qualify for the maximum amount to borrow, you go ahead and take it all. So now, you got two advances from these loan places. So, you’re next paycheck comes and BAM! $600 dollars out of your check to pay for those two advance loans. You start to think: “Well, I can’t afford to pay off $600 dollars right now, so I’ll borrow again.” But this time, that $45 dollar fee goes up to $90 since you have two loans. You don’t want to lose those $90 bucks so you go to another payday advance location. And it just goes on and on until you can’t handle it anymore. Doing these bi-weekly routines has hit a heavy financial hole in my paychecks and quite frankly, my friends…….I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!! Hence: the second job at walmart to pay the advances off!!!

On top of all these advances and their stupid fees that have put me in a hole that seems impossible to dig myself out of, I’ve got other things to worry about. My rent, my utility bills, my mom’s bills, my tuition, my books, a project I will be working with a friend that will require heavy funding, and now for the cherry on top…..my freakin’ car. The moment I heard that clitter clatter and the sound of two metal pieces grinding together from the back of my car, I just lost it and began to cry. I couldn’t even concentrate in class last night. Tears were silently rolling down my face as I tried to read the lecture notes displayed on the professor’s projector. I was sitting there puffy-eyed and red-nosed stressed out over the fact that I literally have no money to pay whatever bill lies ahead of me including my car repair. I think the professor saw me crying, but I quickly put my head down. I sat there unable to concentrate so I started writing a prayer letter to God. I wrote in very small print so the student sitting next to me wouldn’t be able to read it and I also wrote it in Spanish just in case He didn’t get it in English. I wrote it hoping that He could hear me, read the letter, and help me get through this tough time. I’ve never felt so desperate before in my life. It is not a good feeling to have.

For those of you who have never been driven to tears due to the lack of money, let me explain it just a little. You feel as though you’ve run out of options and have nothing to turn to. All you see are these problems in front of you without any solutions. Nothing can change your mood. And, if you’re caught off guard by a joke you heard someone tell, you smile for a mere moment, but are quickly snapped back to your reality and continue in your pain.

I’ve gotten myself in these kinds of messes before, but nothing this big. And usually, my sister Mary is there to bail me out. But I don’t have the courage to ask for her help again. Also, I still owe her money from the last time she let me borrow. She has kindly deferred my payments to her until I can get on my feet again.

The only other person I talked to was my mother. When that grinding noise from my car wouldn’t go away on Monday, I just had to call my mom. I know my mom doesn’t have the money to help, but she has her heart. I sat there in my car trying to hold the sound of my crying voice telling her that I didn’t know what to do. That’s all I could say: “No se que hacer Ama. No se que hacer.” I know she wishes she could do more but there isn’t. It is so hard for me to ask for help. I don’t know why. I know I have other family members that will be there for me, but it’s unbelievably difficult to say “Hey, I need help. Can you help me?” Especially when it comes to money. I guess it’s because I’ve always tried to be the independent one. I’ve always wanted to prove that I can do well on my own and not need anyone. But, I learn that all of us fall every once in a while. We just need to hope that we are strong enough to pick ourselves up afterwards. So, we’ll see what happens. I’ll keep you posted if you ask. Thanks for reading.

Oh and if you ask if I have learned my lesson? HELL – TO – THE – YEAH!!! The next time I don’t have $80 bucks, I just won’t have the freakin’ $80 bucks!!!

In My Dreams.........

I have always found it fascinating how dreams can so easily reflect anything that goes on in a person’s life. I’m not sure if it’s the same for everyone, but dreams sometimes come so close to my heart and or represent something that is currently going on in my life. Of course there are those wild and crazy dreams where you’re an action hero or you are being chased and even though you’re trying your hardest to run really fast, you stay in the same spot never really getting away from the person or monster that is chasing you. Dreams can be fun, scary, and sometimes pleasurable (you know what I mean with this one). But what do they really mean? Are they trying to tell us something? Are our minds sneaking in ideas of what we really want to do in our physical lives? I may never have the answers to those questions and I don’t think anyone ever will. Maybe dreams are supposed to remain unexplained. I do, however, have one theory.

Ok, so here’s my theory on the “running in your dreams but never actually getting anywhere”: When we’re dreaming, our bodies are at rest and stay in the same position for a period of hours. When we dream, I believe our brain subconsciously knows that we’re dreaming. However, our creative imagination is free to take us on any adventures it wants, but at the same time, our brain is telling us that it’s a dream. Therefore, when we are trying to run really fast and barely move an inch, our brain is telling us that we are dreaming and sound asleep in a comfortable position. The position of our resting bodies is what is preventing our rapid movements in our dreams. This is why I believe a lot of dreams occur in slow motion due to the lack of movement in our sleep.

Now, I’m not an expert on dream interpretations, BUT!, I do know that they can often reflect parts of the conscious mind. The things we worry about, the things that scare us, the things that excite us, can all be twirling around in our heads and just expose themselves in our dreams. I also know that they can make you feel just about any emotion there is to describe even if you’re not currently experiencing anything to make you feel that way. Let me give you three specific examples that often repeat in my dreams cycle.

Caution: my last example is one of a personal dream I experienced this past Sunday morning. It’s a little sentimental and a bit of a downer. So if you do not want to read it because you are sick of my emotional writing, skip it. I won’t apologize for the sappy stuff I write about because I often find it very therapeutic and it helps me get through a lot of things.

Ok now! The first example of my repetitive dreams I have has to do with my teeth. For some reason, I constantly dream about losing them. Granted: I do have a huge fear of them falling right out of my mouth and I think that’s the reason why I constantly dream about this happening. I have had countless (AND I MEAN COUNTLESS) dreams about losing my pearly whites and it never seems to escape my mind. I think the only way I’ll stop having these dreams is if I confront this fear. But how in the world do I do that??? Do I go see a tooth therapist? Come on!!! And everytime I dream it, it feels so unbelievably real that I begin to think about how I’m going to pay for veneers!

The second type of dream that I constantly have is that of falling in love. Whether I’m dating or not, in love or not, this dream has been haunting me ever since I was a kid. From a young child-like Cinderella story to a long-time friend confessing his love to me, these dreams are more passionate than real life it seems. It gets me down to the center of my core feeling beyond what anyone could ever feel! The want, the crave, the need, the passion, and the powerful love that is the focus of the dream is indescribably strong. Last week, I had this dream with LL Cool J. LL was standing right in front of me, confessing his love for me and asked me to be his! I throw my arms around him and yell “Yeeeesssss!!!” And I'm not even a fan of his! But the feeling was so real that I could not stop thinking about it all day and I even posted it on my facebook status! Oh Lord have mercy!

Now, this next dream I’m about to describe is not a constant one but I just have to mention it because it’s quite funny. I love those dreams that are just so hilarious that when you wake up from it, you wake up laughing and it’s all you think about all day. You tell you’re friends about it and they find it hilarious too! I wish I had these types of dreams all the time but they are rare. Not too long ago I was speaking to one of my supervisors, who is a Controller for the company I work for, about her sister coming to California. We were talking about how San Diego would be a great place to live for her and that her sister would really like it here. After our conversation, we went back to work as normal. Usually, I get along really well with both the Controller and CFO of the company. They are the people I see everyday and talk to everyday at work. I see and talk to them more than my own family for goodness sake! So, it was no surprise to find them in my dreams! That night, I dreamt that the Controller, her sister, and I were having a slumber party at my place watching action movies of our CFO! What kind of twisted mind do I have? I later told them about it, and they found it hilarious!

This final dream that constantly visits me is that of a sensitive one. Every now and then I’ll get a dream about my late father Rafael Lua or my late brother Salvador “Chava” Lua. The last time I dreamt this was this past Sunday morning when I woke up crying. I was dreaming that Janine (sister in law) and I were playing cards at my mom’s house in the living room. Then, I heard my dad’s voice and when I turned around, I saw him standing next to my mom in the dining area. I was surprised to see him because he had been gone for fourteen years now and I was just shocked. I slowly went up to him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around, had a huge smile on his face and hugged and kissed me. I stood there in amazement shaking my head and started talking to him in Spanish. I looked into his eyes and said “You’re here! You’re here! You can be my dad now, dad! You can be the dad I’ve been missing for so long! You can be my dad now!” And then suddenly, the expression on his face changes. He frowns as if he pitied me. He tells me “No, I can’t. I have to leave. I can’t live. I’m ready to go.” It was strange that he told me this because later on when I was awake and talking to my sister Lupe about it, she told me that in the hospital he had said he was ready to die. Ok, back to the dream: I got upset when he said he was ready to die, so I walked outside and sat in my car, which was parked in the driveway with the windows open. I just sat there trying to understand why he said that. Then, through the dining area window, I could see him standing next to my mom. He gets stiff for a moment as if an electrical shock went through his body and then collapses falling on his back. I sat there in my car holding on to the steering wheel feeling mad, angry, and pissed off. Janine comes out of the house and walks towards me. She bends over, sticks her head through my open window and says “Your dad’s dead.” I squeezed my hands tighter on the steering wheel, shut my eyes, and started screaming really loud. I felt my chest start to jump as if my heart was going to pop out. When I woke up and opened my eyes, I could barely see anything because my eyes were drowning in tears. My mascara had smudged my pillow because I had fallen asleep without taking it off the night before (see picture to the right). My whimper cries turned to loud painful sobs, and I started to get anxiety. I have dreamt of my late father and brother before, but not like this. The last time I cried this much in my sleep was when I had a dream of my dad a couple of years ago. It was a “could be” dream. The dream was a beautiful picture of what our lives could have been if my dad was still alive today. I woke up heartbroken knowing that I will never have that.

But this dream was different. It was as if I was taken back to day he died. When I have moments like this, the only person I can think to call is my mother. I don’t like to call her when I get like this because I know I worry her and she is nowhere near close to comfort me. But I need to hear her voice to calm me down. When I had her on the phone, I was so emotionally uncontrollable that she couldn’t understand what I was saying. When I finally calmed down, I had only told her that I dreamt of dad. I didn’t tell her the whole thing because I thought it would upset her and make her cry. If anyone could hear how my mother comforts her child, you would understand why I needed to hear her voice. I love her so much. She may be a tiny little Mexican lady, but she’s got a heart as big as the universe.

I don’t know why I still get these feelings. I just wish I was over it. Sometimes, I think about people who have lost someone and I get surprised at how much they still cry about it even though it had been so long ago. They look so emotionally scarred by it, that I feel sorry for them. I don’t want to be pitied. I don’t want to be one of those people who can’t move on. Do I have to mourn for the rest of my life? So much time has gone by since the death of my dad and brother, but one little triggered memory can take me all the way back. I know I need to find a way to deal with this because as my friend Melissa made me realize, I suppress my feelings about it. And the more I suppress it, the more it’ll hurt when these moments occur. As of now, I don’t know how to deal with it. But in the mean time, I’ve got good friends and family there for me. Thank you Mom, Lupe, Vanessa, and Melissa for listening. I am blessed to have all of you.

P.S. And thank you to the rest of my family and friends. Without you, I wouldn’t be me :)

To My Dear Friend Karlita

This poem you are about to read is about a wonderful friend I've had since early high school. She is the kind of person that will do anything for you no matter what. She's always been there for me and I always feel inspired by her. Karlita, this is for you :)



Karlita.....


There’s no one else in this world like her
But there should be more
Fair skin and cascading locks
As beautiful as the sea side shore

Intelligent, witty, with a soft spoken voice
But passionate, loving, and full of heart
You’ll be glad to know this wonderful woman
More beautiful than fine art

From our innocent days in high school
To our mature ways in higher learning
I thank God for sending me Karlita
A true friend who’s caring

I smile to remembering birthdays and sleepovers
Hang outs at school and movies too
I hope to make many more
Fun memories with you

We may be hundreds of miles apart
But only a phone call away
No matter rain or shine
She’ll be there night or day

Time may pass between her and I
And likely it may be my fault
But she’ll always make sure
Our friendship is never at halt

To my dear friend Karlita
You deserve many more words on this page
But for now this is what I can offer
I’ll find more as we grow in old age

Thank you for being a wonderful friend Karlita
Love Always,
Jessenia Lua

A Little Poetry :)

Not too long ago, I was lucky to have a poem I wrote called “Visionary Bliss” be published in the San Marcos California State University annual Literary Magazine called The Palm. My sister once asked me “Ay Chena! How do you do it? How do you write what you write?” To be honest, I don’t even know. I feel like it comes very easy to me and I also feel like I can really emotionally connect my thoughts on paper. I might bite my tongue on this later on as I run out of ideas to write about, but for now, I feel like I can write an anthology. The one thing I hate about my writing is that I’m not as skilled as I would like to be in Spanish writing. I’ve tried writing poetry and songs in Spanish (for it being my first language and all) but I can’t seem to connect the same way as I do in English. If I had studied Spanish all throughout elementary to college, I would probably be just as good. But not to worry! One day I plan on being as good in Spanish as I am in English.

When I write, sometimes all I have to do is think about how I’m feeling, think about how someone else is feeling, and build a bridge of thoughts and words connecting both. This doesn’t always work, but for the most part, it has gotten me some pretty good pieces including songs. So anyway, the first poem you are about to read is the one that was published in The Palm Literary Magazine. I don’t quite have an explanation behind it, but I hope you can pick up the meaning of it. If you think you know what it is, leave me a comment.

The second poem below is called “I take it upon myself…” I literally wrote this poem less than two hours ago. When I get an idea for a poem or a song, I quickly have to write it down before I forget it. Usually, I’ll carry that idea for a couple of days until I can fully commit to try and finishing it. But for moments like today where I can actually keep on going and the words are just coming together, I take full advantage and finish it. And that’s just what I did. I hope you enjoy!

Visionary Bliss
By Jessenia Lua

I move my eyes to where the pigments meet
Defined by their natural beauty
Colliding together for your pleasure
His pleasure, her pleasure, their pleasure
Yet not appreciated what it does for everyone
Granted nature and euphoric joy
Blessed bliss with beautified coy

Derived from the spectrum of identifiable splendor
Creating orgasmic vibrations of visionary imperfections
Three dimensional worlds combining your substance
His substance, her substance, their substance
Effervescent grace among warm invitings
Reprimanded gestures of uncanny truths
Denying what should be to discovering youths

Layers of pastels and pedals crossing paths
The mist of rain falling on the covers of the body
Watery eyes among the question for your answer
His answer, her answer, their answer
Truth be told to everyone and to the oblivious soul
It’s a lie when I cry and look for your shoulder
Is my beauty truly in the eye of the beholder?


I take it upon myself…
By Jessenia Lua

I take it upon myself
To look beyond the social façade
To bypass the propaganda
And to live from my own agenda

I take it upon myself
To have self worth and imaginations
To steer free of complications
And reach final destinations

I take it upon myself
To believe in the power of me
To uncoil my insanity
And walk with dignity

I take it upon myself
To clear ambiguous eyes
To change cluttered minds
And reveal my true insides

I take it upon myself…
To believe in all His glory
To evade purgatory
And tell this side of the story

But most of all…

I take it upon myself…

I take it upon myself
To love whole-heartedly
To leave my legacy
And be known for curiosity

I've taken it upon myself

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHAVA! GOD, I MISS YOU!!!

I’m about to blog about a very sensitive topic and for my family members who read this, I don’t mean for this to make you cry. I’m choking back tears as I begin to write this, so I know that this might emotionally affect you. I just want to recognize our late brother on his birthday because even though he’s not with us anymore, he is always (AND I MEAN ALWAYS) in our hearts.

To those of you who knew my brother, you simply knew him as Chava. Chava was his nickname but his real birth name was Salvador Lua. We, his family and close friends, never really called him Salvador because his nickname stuck to him very early on. There are just so many wonderful things I could say about Chava. He was a brother, a friend, a son, and a father. There isn’t enough space on this blog to say what I would really love to say about Chava, so I will have to shorten it up and hope to get the message across on how much we still love and miss him everyday.

Let me begin by saying that today Chava would have been 43 years old. I can just imagine what it would be like with him here today! The one thing that I can’t get out of my head if he was still here, is how much of a great father he would be to his daughter Miniquis.

Everyone in my family, distant or close relative, has a special place in my heart. But Chava won a solid spot in the center of my heart when our father died. When our father died, my mom was left with three young kids left in the house. It was my brother Edgar 13, myself 11, and my youngest sister Vanessa 7. Chava stepped in right away to help my mother. He became the father figure in our lives and never made us feel like we were missing that person. He taught me how to wire Christmas lights together, put up mini blinds in mom’s house, how to properly clean my huge fish tank he gave me, mow the lawn, check the oil in my first crappy car, and an array of things any father would teach his daughter. He yelled at me when I got in trouble, rewarded me when I did good, but most importantly, he loved me. He loved everyone in his family and you could see how proud he was to be with us. He was always there at every family birthday and made us feel complete after suffering the death of our father Rafael Lua.

When I finished high school (and this is the part that makes me cry) I came to this realization that he didn’t have to do all these things for me, my brother, and youngest sister. He didn’t have to be there for us the way he was. So after my high school graduation, I had decided to write a letter of appreciation to him thanking him for being there for us. I wrote that letter along with a few others to members of my family thanking them for being there for me during my journey in high school. But Chava’s letter was a bit deeper because of his effort to give us that father figure we lost. In that letter, I really wanted to make sure he knew how much I loved him and thanked him for being there. Three months later, he died.

Chava’s death was such a shock to everyone. I still remember that phone call from Poncho (My sister Mary’s husband). It was a Sunday afternoon September 23rd, 2001. I was painting my toenails in my bedroom when Poncho called asking for my mom. I didn’t think anything serious because he sounded casual on the phone, but when my mom hung up, she ran to her car. Her action alone gave me chills. Later on that day, we had all gathered at his house. I remember it was at his temporary house because he and his wife had just bought land and were constructing a new one so they were staying at a temporary home. I didn’t get to see him. I don’t think anyone else did. Almost everyone was outside in the front yard waiting to see what happened. I was sitting in the living room with my mom and sister Rosa when the paramedics brought him out in a gurney from the bathroom where he had fainted. The feeling one gets when seeing a loved one in a gurney is completely indescribable. All I remember is making this loud noise. It wasn’t like a normal cry, but a painful noise coming out of me. I shut my eyes and my sister Rosa grabbed my head and pulled me into her chest. I think I only caught two seconds of him on that gurney out of the 15 it took the paramedics to get him out of the house. I couldn't look any longer. I heard that same painful noise come out of the rest of my family members outside in the yard when they wheeled him into the ambulance.

This was the first I had heard of brain aneurisms. It took my brother’s life away.

Grieving for Chava was such a long road for everyone. I think some of us are still on that road. I remember not wanting to go to his wake because of the last memory I had of my dad. The last time I saw my dad was in his casket. I didn’t want to see Chava like that. I came really close to telling my sister Mary that I didn’t want to go, but I chickened out. I thought it would have been very selfish of me if I didn’t go and everyone else had to. Now, I remember him in his blue hat. So many people showed up at his memorial service. Old friends, new friends, old ladies who he fixed air conditioners for. After his funeral, I really saw my family fall apart. I remember seeing my sister Rosa crying in my brother Edgar’s room. The door was partly open and I could see her hands over her face crying nonstop while her husband comforted her. I remember the first Christmas without him. It felt like we tried too hard to celebrate the holiday but we couldn’t. We tried to take pictures, but there were too many tears in the photos. I still have that picture. Mary, Lupe, Rosa, Carmen and I all filled with tears in our eyes. Later on that night, I remember looking for my brother Edgar and finding him by himself crying leaning on a car down the street. I had never seen my brother Edgar cry, and seeing him like that just broke my heart. But most of all, I really saw my mom fall apart. Not too long ago I heard her talking to a friend on the topic of losing family members and I remember her saying “La muerte de mi esposo me dolio mucho, pero la muerte de mi hijo…” (The death of my husband hurt me so much, but the death of my son…) I didn’t hear her finish the sentence.

The date of his death is debatable. My mom says that she counts it the day he fainted which was on September 23, 2001 but he officially died in San Diego Scripps hospital September 24, 2001. Either way, we lost one hell of a person. I miss his trademark keys he always carried. Whenever you hear keys clinging, you can bet that it was him coming down. One of my funniest memories of him was when he was looking at a photo that was taken of Johana (My sister Rosa’s daughter) and me on a roller coaster at Knots Berry Farm. I hung the photo in my room and when he came in to say “hi” he saw the photo and could not stop laughing. Right next to that photo was one of my sister Rosa holding her son Giovani on another roller coaster. Both of them looked terrified and Chava could not stop laughing. He was laughing so hard that he was slapping his knee and bending over! Another funny memory of him was when I hit him with the bathroom door and caused him to bite his lip. I didn’t mean it! I was fixing my hair in my mom’s bathroom with the door partially closed. I saw a figure behind me through the mirror and I was thinking it was my brother Edgar coming in to bug me so I quickly kicked the door with my foot and tried to shut it before he came in. When he opened the door he said “Heeeeyyy, I was only trying to give you this!” It was a little chocolate gift for Valentine’s Day. I said “Sorry Chava! I thought it was Edgar trying to scare me!” He forgave me even though I made him bleed a little.

Not a single day passes by that I don’t think of him. It’s like it’s programmed in my mind to remember him. If you read this and knew Chava, please leave a comment with one of your best memories of him. I would love to hear it.

Happy Birthday Chava!
We love you!
We miss you!
We wish you were here with us!
Say “hi” to dad for us!
Heaven is just too damn far!

Love,
Your Sis,
Chena

It may almost be eight years since you left this earth, but the pain is as real as yesterday. I'll never forget you. I'll never stop loving you. I'll always have you in my heart.

It's your destiny.....Isn't it???

Whenever I think of the word destiny, I think of a life fully planned out. I think of destiny as the “one thing” that one individual is supposed to be doing in their life. I think of destiny as the purpose in someone’s life and fulfilling that purpose with the best of your ability. But does having a destiny erase the chance to do anything else in one person’s life? And, if everyone has a destiny and they find it, are they supposed to stick to that one thing only? Can we alter our lives based on what we learn or stick to our “destiny” because it’s what we are “supposed” to do? I believe in plans but I’m not so sure if I fully believe in a destiny. Some parts of me believe in having a destiny or fate, but parts of me doesn’t. One very strong reason why I “sort of” believe in destiny is that of a friend of mine named Andrea.

Although my memory of when I first met Andrea is questionable because I say I met her in 8th grade and she says we met in 7th, there’s no doubt in my mind that her and I were meant to be friends. Here are the reasons: 1) When we first became friends, we realized we only lived a short walk away from each other’s homes. 2) In high school we were given random ID numbers. Mine was 2293 and hers was 2294. Coincidence? I think not! 3) When seniors in high school are supposed to give their final senior project presentation, they are randomly selected in groups of four out of the entire 350 student class. Andrea and I were randomly picked to present at the same time. How funny is that? 4) It turns out that she has family in the same city (Central California) where I was born! And 5) In high school both Andrea and I developed crushes on two older guys that we absolutely fell in love with. Andrea’s crush was named Jesse and mine was Andy. How funny is it that my crush’s name was her nick name and her crush’s name was what people called me? Now, if that’s not destiny for her and I to be friends, I don’t know what is. To this day, I feel our friendship remains strong and although we have had our ups and downs, living together, living apart, fighting, getting along, I know that I am supposed to be her friend and she is supposed to be mine for the rest of our lives. I can’t imagine what my life would be without her. She has been such a great friend to me for so long that my family calls her “the adopted one.”

Now let me get back to the subject of destiny. I know I’m destined to have Andrea in my life as these little significant examples prove it, but if I’m destined to be a writer, does that mean that I can’t be destined to do something else? Also, when it comes to death, is one really destined to die at a certain time in their life? I don’t think so!!!

Syliva Brown has always said that before anyone is born, that person plans out their life, their plans, and their death. Now, I love Sylvia Brown and am fascinated by the predictions she has made in the past and the unsolved mysteries she helped solve. However, I have to completely disagree with planning out your own life before you are born. I disagree because I don’t think my brother planned to die at 35 and leave his wife and little girl behind. I think we are given this life to do what we can with it and as far as death goes, I don’t think anyone knows when they’re going to die. I believe that we are destined to be with the people we love but I don’t think that there is a single destiny each person has to fulfill. If that were true, then there would be no grounds to explore new things in life.

It’s like when people say that Elvis was destined to be a rock star. But how do we know he wasn’t destined to be something else as well? He probably knew he was destined to be a father and a husband but we only saw him as that beautiful rock star. But was he destined to die young? Who in the world would want to be destined to die young? Not me! This is why I say that each of us has more than one destiny. Life would be robbing us of wonderful experiences if that were true. We should keep a wondrous mind and should always be curious to what great things we can do. Never limit ourselves and each other. Never think you only have one destiny. Never say destined….

Now ask yourself, what is your destiny?
Or should I say….destinies?

My Love Letter

Ok so being 26 and single has it's ups and downs. For quite a while now I've been saying that I don't want to get married or have kids and that usually comes to a surprise with people who know me because I come from a pretty big family of married siblings with lots of kids. But just because I say that I don't want to get married or have kids, doesn't mean that I won't ever. I just feel like it's going to take the right man and the right moment in my life in order for that to happen. But for now, I don't see myself getting married and/or having kids. Anyway, dating can be challenging when one has certain expectations and although I like to think I have pretty decent standards, it all doesn't quite seem to come together. Yes, it can be frustrating but it can also be fun. So, I've taken a different approach to dating these days and just thought "let it be." I've never really looked for Mr. Right cause I'm not in a hurry to find him, however, that nagging question "is he, or isn't he?" always plays in my head like a broken record with anyone I've ever dated. So, since my new approach of "let it be" has come into play, I've decided to delete the phrase "is he, or isn't he" out of my mind permanently. From now on, dating will be a "let it be" type of thing. But!!! I do believe that someday I will end up with someone special and even though I don't know when that will happen, I know he is out there. So, I've decided to write him a love letter. It may be corny and sappy, but it comes from my heart. Enjoy...


Dear You,

Where the hell have you been? I have been waiting for you for so long. If you are reading this now, it means that you are there. You are in the position where many faceless men have been for so many years. You are in the fantasies and creative romantic imaginations that took me on journeys that Danielle Steel couldn’t even write about. You are who I day and night dream about. You are who I think about every single moment of my life. You are who makes me smile when you call my name or gently kiss my lips as we part our ways for the day. You are who gives me butterflies knowing you will be home when I arrive and ready to put your arms around me. Years will have past by the time you read this letter. But I wrote this letter because I knew one day you would arrive. No, I didn’t know when nor did I know who it would be, but dammit I knew that one day you would come. This is my love letter to you. And when you read it, I hope that we would have experienced many romantic and fun memories together. I hope to love you like I’ve never loved anybody else in this world. I hope to have these indescribable feelings come out of me that I didn’t even know I had. I hope to only share this letter with you and no other man. I prayed for you before I even knew you existed. I would hope you would pray for me before you even knew I existed. And when we finally meet, you realize that I am who you have been praying and looking for all along. At night when I would lay my head on my pillow and ask God to guide you to me, I’m hoping you were asking Him to guide me to you. And when we finally cross each other’s paths, I look over my shoulder, you look over yours, and we just know that this is exactly where we are supposed to meet. Then you realize that all the other ones before we met were for testing our patience. Everyone else was there to teach me how to value you even more. It doesn’t matter who I was with before or who you were with before because now I know it’s you. I learned to love you more because of who was in my past and you learned to love me more because of yours. All those heartaches and unfortunate times have made me stronger and helped me appreciate even more the person you are with me. And when we are with each other, we will understand that we were well worth the wait.

With Love,
Me

OH MY GOD!!!

Sorry! It’s not an expression to a current emotional situation. I just thought it would be a great title to this blog. Anyhoo, God has been the topic of many of my conversations lately and since I’ve been back to blogging, because school let out, I thought “why not start off with the mighty and powerful God.”

Why is it that in our deepest and darkest moments we call out His name and ask for His help? Yet, we ignore Him when things are going great and hardly thank Him. Why is it that when we are surprised, or hear such stunning news we shout out His name? With the overly expressed expression “oh my God,” is He really responding to it and twisting His neck back and forth, up and down, left to right, right to left looking for whoever is calling His name? I’ve always wondered that…. And, why do we damn him when we are pissed off?

Well, I might be getting a little too far ahead of myself here, so let me begin by saying that this blog is not intended to ask you to believe in God. God is a very controversial topic because not everyone believes in Him. I believe in Him on the sole blessings in my life and the miracles that happen in this world. If you don’t believe in Him, it’s your decision and this blog is not intended to convince you so. All I really would like to say is my opinion on my God and my faith.

So, let me lay down the basics as to why I believe in God. For one: my mother. I feel truly blessed by the hand of God that she is in my life. The same goes for my family and friends. Two: those miracles where people survive death defying accidents such as a child surviving after falling 15 stories and not breaking a bone. Do ya really think that God had nothing to do with that? Come on people! And three: the power of all that is good and holy out there. For instance, when one single person is left alone in this world and has no one to turn to, I have faith that the person will turn to God. When anyone is alone and need someone, God will always be there for you to pray upon him. If there is a person who does not believe in God and are put in a situation where their life is threatened, what are the first words that come out of their mouth? Did you guess it? That’s right! “Oh God, please help me!” Those little five words, instantly give you comfort and connection to someone to turn to in your time of need.

Let me clarify a few things. God and religion are two different things. I believe in God but I don’t fully believe in my religion. Although I may say that I am a Catholic, I am not a participating Catholic and I’ll tell you why in a few moments. I also don’t believe in the bible. I’ll explain that a little later as well. Sometimes I think of organized religion as a popularity contest. How can I not think of it that way when there are people going door to door asking to join their religion? The purpose of an organized religion should only be for the common interests of our belief system and we should NEVER shun others for believing differently.

I say that I’m not a participating Catholic because 1 – I don’t go to church as often as I should, 2 – Anyone should be able to take the “bread of Jesus Christ” and not just those who confessed their sins the Saturday before, and 3 – I don’t believe in the bible for the reasons of Armageddon and homosexuality. I don’t believe that we will ever have an Armageddon, other than the fact that human beings are slowly destroying this earth with pollution, and I believe that homosexuality is NOT a sin. Now, I could get a little deeper in the last two but that would completely take off subject so I’ll save them for future blogs.

The reasons why I call myself a Catholic is because I believe in its traditions and faiths. And because I grew up going to church every weekend until my mom couldn’t drag me anymore when I got older. I’m just not a full Catholic. I would probably consider myself a 50% Catholic. The other 50% of me is arguing with it. I also wanted to point out that just because you don’t believe in God, doesn’t mean that bad things happen to you. God does not punish nor does he give diseases. I had a recent conversation with a young lady (you know who you are) that asked me this question: “So those hostages that were shot dead in the New York Immigration center died because they didn’t believe in God?” I was quick to observe that she asked me this question when I said that I believe in God because of the good in this world. I answered by telling her the same thing I typed a few lines before. God does not punish nor does he give disease because you don’t believe in him. Ok, yes it’s true that when bad things happen, you question your belief in Him as I did when two family members died. I even blamed God for that. But at the end of the day, you realize that this is just life. God cannot control what happens in this world but he can provide the sanity to keep you sane by praying to Him. He can give you a clear and conscious mind and help you move on with your life.

Ask yourself if you believe in God. Whatever the answer is, it’s ok. Regardless, He will be there when you need Him.

Cinco de Mayo is not Mexico's Independence Day!

One more week, and then I'm free! School is almost over and then I will be back to my normal blogging schedule. In the meantine, read an article I wrote on Cinco de Mayo! Let's be enlightened!

http://media.www.thecsusmpride.com/media/storage/paper1149/news/2009/05/05/FacesPlaces/Cinco.De.Mayo-3736580.shtml

Just copy and paste, or click away!

Enjoy!

Creative Writing

I know it has been a while since my last blog and I do apologize to my loyal readers. School has kept me pretty busy especially since I’ve been taking a graduate course in creative writing. Even though I’m not in the master’s program yet, the professor has given me permission to take the class. I highly recommend it for those students who plan on entering the master’s program. Anywhoo, this class, along with Cultural Studies, has become one of my favorite classes. More frequently do I get to delve into my curious mind of storytelling, poetry writing, fantasy literature, and exploring new ideas I never knew I had. So, even though I have a list of topics saved up in my favorite’s folder to blog about, I’m going to put those aside and try something here first. A student in my class decided to tell a story using her play list on her ipod. It got me to thinking about how I can come up with such a thing and decided to give it a go. So, below is a story created following my play list on my ipod that I use when I go walking to Tamarack Beach. I hope you enjoy…

I looked at her and felt the “mercy” of her soul. She sits in the corner dramatizing a situation that occurs on a regular basis. Oh wait, here comes the “‘I never loved a man” like him before” speech she always throws at me when recovering her feelings. Sometimes I want to grab her head with each hand full of her hair and just shake it! How can I force her to just “think?” Why doesn’t she get it? I look at her and just nod my head in understanding while she tells me the rest of “the story” I’ve heard a thousand times. “I was supposed to carry his ‘last name.’” she cries to me. “He was my man, my knight, my ‘soldier,’ and my true love.” Little did she know that he was a bunch of other girl’s true love. And maybe even some guys? Anyway, she hasn’t been the same since “Calabria.” He should have picked somewhere else to dump her. And now, I have to get her drunk enough to keep her mind off of him. Drunk enough to go out and party just a little. Drunk enough for her to forget her sorrows. And, drunk enough to hear her horrible rendition of “killing me softly.”

After I parked my car down the ally, we begin walking towards the bar. Yes, that unforgettable bar. That bar that seems to take us "somewhere over the rainbow" everytime we go in. That bar that is always there like a true friend to offer us some beers while I sit there with boredom and listen to her whine and cry. We find a spot to sit at and right next to us is a group of Mexican catty women arguing about whose fault it was for leaving their friend behind. I hear one of them yell “Tu eres ‘mala gente’ y quiero que te vallas de aqui.” Actually, their story is much more interesting. I wish she’d hurry up and stop crying. “I did so much for him!” she continues to cry to me. “I bent over backwards to please him! And you know what, ‘I kissed a girl’ for him too! Yup! Just cause he was curious!” In the midst of her continuous cry, I am distracted by the catty Mexican women next to us. I’m trying to hold my laughter and keep a serious face for my hurt friend, but it’s just too funny! “Y ‘ahora quien’ pendeja!” she yells at her friend. I tell you, this bar has been more entertaining in the past twenty minutes than the past couple of years we’ve been coming here. Oh what I wouldn’t give to have him standing in front of me. Superficial son of a bitch rockstar wannabe! “I’m so grateful to have you.” she says to me. “I know. I’ll always be ‘by your side’ sweetie.” I reply.

After she drank a few beers and was a little point passed buzz, but not drunk, we head home. I made the mistake of turning on the radio in the car on our way home. Before I could change the station she yells “Oh my God it’s our ‘love song’!” I think I just dug her into a deeper whole! Oh well! It’s never too late for me to get her back out. I’ve know this routine far so long. But then again, she never cried in front of me like this before. I just hope she’s all better by summertime!!!

Ok, below is the list of songs used in the story in the same order. Hope you enjoyed!

“Mercy” by Duffy
“I Never Loved a Man” by Aretha Franklin
“Think” by Aretha Franklin
“The Story” by Brandi Carlile
“Last Name” by Carrie Underwood
“Soldier” by Destiny’s Child
“Calabria” by Enur
“Killing Me Softly” by The Fugees
“Somewhere Over the Rainbow” by Judy Garland
“Mala Gente” by Juanes
“I Kissed a Girl” by Katy Perry
“Ahora Quien” by Mar Anthony
“Rockstar” by Nickelback
“By Your Side” by Sade
“Love Song” by Sara Bareilles
“Never Too Late” by Three Days Grace
“She Never Cried In Front of Me” by Toby Keith
“Summertime” by Billy Stewart

Women's History Poetry

Women’s History Poetry

Hello all again! In light of Women’s History Month, there was a lot that I wanted to write about. But since March is coming to an end and I don’t see myself having the time to write because of my school and work schedule, I decided to include two poems that can be reflective of this month. I wrote these two poems a while ago. Maybe almost a year ago I think. The first one titled “Champoo” is about my cute mother who mistakenly took a shaving cream bottle as shampoo and used it to wash her hair for several days. My mom has done so many little things like this that just make you love her sincerity and her innocence. She is a wonderful and powerful woman even though she can be a little funny sometimes. This was probably by far the funniest thing she’s done so I thought it would be cute to form it into a poem. I hope you like it!

The second poem titled “W*O*M*A*N” came from an inspiration that I can’t quite explain. I’m not a hardcore feminist but I do believe in women’s rights and the power of women. I don’t mean to de-humanize men in any sort of way even though that is how it may sound like. Please don’t be offended, but if you are, I deeply apologize. So, read it with attitude, read it with care, and read it with the message that it brings. Enjoy!!!



Champoo?

By: Jessenia Lua

My mom’s a real funny lady
She’s always been her entire life
She speaks with a Spanish accent
And is a devoted wife

She doesn’t understand a lot of things
And isn’t up to this modern world
She doesn’t know how to use a computer
Or things without a cord

One day I was playing with her hair
And it felt really rough
I asked her what she had been using
She thinks its pert plus

Then my sister came in screaming mad
She doesn’t like to share
She wants to know who used her skintimate shaving cream
Cause she’s got legs full of hair

The bottle is more than half empty
It’s likely she’ll need one new
Then my mom looked up at me and said:
“CHU MEAN DIS NAT CHAMPOO?!!!”

W*O*M*A*N

By:
Jessenia Lua

I am a WUH - HU……MUH - HAN!
That’s right!
I am a woman!
And I’ve got it all
I have the curves and the nerves
The steels and the heals

I know what I want
And I know who I am
I have the power to give life
And the heart to heal strife

I’m voluptuous and kind
No need to press rewind
On my life because I don’t regret
None of my events, you bet!

I can do ten things at a time
Listen to you cry
Put my emotions aside
And wait til you’re all cured inside

I can run and walk through rain
I aint’ shallow nor vain
Can take any kind of pain
Cause baby, I am a woman of this DAY!

Don’t tell me I can’t commit
Just because I don’t have your little “bits”
I don’t need three little parts
I’ve got my big ass fuckin’ heart!

Woohoo! I'm published!

Hi Everyone,

So I've been with the University newspaper since the beginning of the semester and had not been able to publish anything. That is until......YESTERDAY! I know that it's a university newspaper and nothing like the San Diego Union Tribune but I bet those writers got their start at their universities as well. Anyway, here's a pic of the article. It's not exactly my favorite topic to write about, but this was my first assignment to cover. I couldn't fit the whole thing in it so just click on the link below and you'll be able to read the whole article. And, let's hope that this is the first of many!


http://media.www.thecsusmpride.com/media/storage/paper1149/news/2009/02/17/FacesPlaces/How-To.Build.And.Keep.A.High.Credit.Score-3633654.shtml

Time to get personal.......

Don’t worry! Not that personal!

Today marks two very special anniversaries for my family and me. Today is my late father (apa′ to my siblings and I) Rafael Lua’s birthday. He would have been 83 years old. Following the first few years after my father’s death, my mom would always tell me that he no longer had a birthday because he’s in heaven now. But, I always acknowledge it because he is the oldest memory I have as a child. If I look back and think about the fun times between my seven siblings, my father, my mother and I, my father sticks out like a bright candle. As a kid, you don’t pay attention to much except for the people who take care of you. Since I am the seventh child out of eight, I had a lot of people (my parents and brothers and sisters) take care of me. But my dad always had this fun and endearing side to him. He was a nurturer by nature and his memory is so precious to me.

I remember so vividly one of the sweetest things he did. He would kiss my eyes. He would hold my head between his hands, look at me and ask, “aver, cual es mi hojo?” Let’s see, which one’s my eye? And when I’d close them, he’d kiss either my left eye or right eye. It’s strange but it was a comfort to feel his warm lips on my eye lids. It was the same comfort I felt when my mom would hold me whenever I just wanted to hold her. I’d rest the side of my head on her chest while she put her arms around my shoulders and she would talk to me or sing. The vibrations of her voice going through my ear that was resting on her chest and the sound of her heartbeat were such a comfort to my soul that no fear or worries crossed my mind.

Even though my dad has been in heaven for the past fourteen and a half years, his memory still carries on in my spirit and existence every single day of my life. Every now and then I’ll slip back into the moment when we found out he was going to die and I lose emotional control. Sometimes I wonder why after all this time, I can still feel this way. About a year ago, I had a dream of a “could be” life. It was a dream where my brother, my youngest sister, and I were still living at home. I was in my junior year in high school and I was fighting with my brother Edgar (who’s a year older than me) to hurry up with the bathroom because we were going to be late for school. I kept pounding on the door and my mom yells from the kitchen, where she was making breakfast, to use her bathroom. So, I go to her bathroom and guess who was in there? My dad taking his sweet time. I ask him to hurry up but out of the frustration I tell him nevermind and yell through the door that I’ll see him after school. He yells back through the door telling me to not take my car because he has to fix it and then says to take his cacahuate (peanut)! Cacahuate was the name he had for this old brown four door car he had. I don’t even remember what model, year, and make it was. I just knew it was old, brown, rusty, and dusty! The dream pictured what I thought could have been a life with my dad. When I woke up, all I could do is cry. I cried in the shower, cried telling my mom about it, cried on my way to work, cried at work, and cried telling Mari about it. It only reminded me of the person I didn’t have in my life. The heartache in my body hurt so much. But, luckily I have wonderful sisters, brother, nieces, nephews, and mother to get me through it. Now, I could jump in and talk about how my late brother Chava stepped in and took over my father, but that’s a whole ‘nuther blog. You’ll have to read about him later.

For people who know me really well, I often talk a lot about my family. Which is why I’m hoping to write a book one day. Getting over my father’s and brother’s death were two of the biggest obstacles our family has ever been through. I’m so proud of how we handle ourselves and how we still can rely on each other in the utmost difficult times. Even when there’s tension or petty fights, we get over them quickly. So, for today’s topic I just want to wish my father up in heaven a BIG WONDERFUL HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I love you, miss you, and please send a big hello to Chava for us!

Now, for the second anniversary! Today, Savina Rebecca Gallegos is one year old! Happy Birthday Savina! In a wonderful coincidence, my sister Lupe and her husband Tony had their third wonderful child Savina on her grandpa’s birthday! Exactly one year ago, as Lupe held Savina in her arms (after being born for like 8 minutes!) the room got quiet with sniffles and tears. Everyone was just staring at this brand new baby girl. And I do mean everyone! Sisters, sister’s husbands, nieces, nephews, boyfriends, etc. were all there to witness the birth of Savina. We literally filled the hospital room to its capacity. Crowded or not, it was such a sincere moment where innocence is all that we knew and this little girl was the center of our world. It had been a while since there had been a baby in the family and from Tony’s own words “your mom just woke up in life.” I agreed with what he said. Watching my mom go through my brother’s passing was extremely hard on her. When Savina was born, a light in my mom just shined all over her spirit. She is truly a blessing as well as my family is. I am humbled by the sweet blessings God has given me and live each day with the thought of all of you in mind. Thank you!

P.S. I will post some other pictures tomorrow. Sorry, I didn't bring them with me today when I posted this blog! Stay tune....

P.S.S. If you're wondering why the address to my blog is "chenas blog," well, that's because my dad gave nicknames to all his kids and mine just happen to stick. I rarely hear my family members or close friends call me by my real name :)