What’s up? It’s your home-girl Chena. You know……from New Campo where we spent our first eight years of niña mugrosa to Santo Close relationship in apartment number 52. Broleña. Yea? No? Maybe so? Well anyways, I was catching up with my correspondence and since it’s been a while since I’ve written, I thought “why not write to you?’ Perfect time of year que no?!
Anyways, Nomas estaba escribiendo para desirte que I don’t really need anything this year. Tu sabes. I’ve got mi familia, amigos, and puros bendiciones que no me falta nada. Pues aves en cuando nesecito dinero, but you know how that goes.
But in all truth and honestly, I just wish for the happiness and wellness of those I love. All of my friends and family. Past, present, and futuro. Including our pets - cause you know how much I love dogs right? Anyways, you know I pray to my Diosito every now and then and ask for the same but I figured you two can work on that. Oh and please take care of my mommy. I still call her mommy after all these years. Ya estoy vieja (nat really) pero I still love to call her mommy. She is the most generous person with her heart that I have ever met. You have no idea, Santa, how much I love her. And how much all of her kids love her. So make her happy this Christmas and many many many more Christmases to come.
Oh and one more thing if that’s ok. I have a friend who could really use your cheerful spirit. I think you know who I’m talking about. So can you spread a little cheer for my friend to hear? Bring joy in my friend’s life and show my friend that life is still worthwhile. Even if I’m not there to show my friend how happy life can be, then maybe send someone who can really show it. Ok ya es todo. Thanks for listening mang. Meri Crismas!! Hasta luego!!
I wrote the following poem titled “Paw Prints in the Sand…” for my boss’ dog who I had the privilege to dog-sit often. I’ve always wanted a big dog (not to say that I don’t love my small Bitsey – because I love her very much even though my mom kept her when I left for college) but have been too afraid to take on the financial responsibility of having one. So, my boss let me take on the role of step-mom to Cooper for the past four years and together, Cooper and I had many adventures. One of his favorite things to do was go to dog beach in Solona Beach where we often visited and played around in the water and sand. Unfortunately, Cooper was diagnosed with stage 4 lymphoma cancer in the spring of this year. He put up a fight but couldn’t fight any more and passed away on November 27. Since today was my boss’ birthday, I decided to write a little poem reflecting Cooper and surround it by a collage of photos of him as a gift. A few photos of Cooper are posted below as well as the poem I wrote. Note: Scully was Cooper’s sister. She passed away four years ago at the age of 8 and was also golden retriever.
Paw Prints in the Sand...
Dear Mom and Dad
I’m sorry I couldn’t stay forever I really wish I could I’m having so much fun here And I promise I’ve been good!
There’s so much to do here Everything is big and grand Oh and I even get to Leave my paw prints in the sand!
Guess who I saw the other day! I saw Scully running around She immediately recognized me Now we’re always adventure bound!
There’s no such thing as “dog beach” Just a beach for all who love this land So Scully and I are running around Leaving our paw prints in the sand!
I know you must really miss me And trust me, I miss you more You were the best parents a dog could have And who loved me to the core
I think of you every single day Even when I’m out on the strand Remembering our fun times together Of leaving paw prints in the sand
....is my family. I don’t really know how to start this blog without getting straight into the topic I want to write about. So, I’m just going to jump into it.
This weekend I will be traveling to Brawley, CA to visit my family. For those of you who may not know, I moved to San Marcos, CA when I was 20 years old to attend college. After I graduated, I moved to Oceanside, CA and have been here ever since followed by a quick cameo living in Vista, CA for a year. I love living in Oceanside. It’s 5 minutes away from my job in Carlsbad and I often go to the beach a few times a week, if not everyday. But the best part of living an independent life of my own here is that it’s close to my hometown of Brawley. A 2 ½ hour drive and I’m there. Most of my beautiful family still resides in Brawley.
Between all of us, our family occupies 6 homes throughout Brawley. That’s 6 homes I get to visit when I’m there, but only get to around 2 or 3 on short visits haha!! And it all began with my little short Mexican mother, Carmen. There are so many wonderful things I could say about my mom, but I’m afraid it would take me a couple of years. So I’ll shorten it for the purpose of this blog.
My parents had 8 kids. That’s a lot. I’m number 7. Based on the differences between our ages, I always say that they had their first 5 kids within a matter of years, took a 10-year break, and had the last 3. I have no clue how my mother did it. What makes her even more unbelievable is that she still remains the most amazing mother after losing her husband (my dad) and her oldest son (my brother). She’s funny, she’s caring, she’s an angel, and she would do anything for any of her kids. One of the best things I loved about her when I was a kid is when I would rest my head on her chest hearing her heartbeat and she would be singing or talking. I would feel the vibrations of her voice and heartbeat through my muffled ear. It felt so comforting and it felt like home. Sometimes I still do rest my head on her chest. No matter how much older I get, there are times where I still feel like that little kid coming home after school happy to see my mom.
Then there’s the rest of the family. Since there is a big age difference between the first 5 born and the last 3, I got to grow up with wonderful older influences. My 4 older sisters sometimes felt like my 4 extra mothers helping raise me and my brother Edgar and sister Vanessa. And there was definitely no question in the type of fatherly influence I had when my late oldest brother Chava stepped in after our dad passed away.
I feel as if my mom showed us all how to love. It’s a strong and forgiving love. And when her children carried/still carry all that love with us, it left us open to love someone else. And that someone else became/becomes our husbands, wives, children, and even best friends. You don’t have to be blood related to feel the love my mom gives. Just ask any of my or my brother and sister’s friends. She’s the ultimate Mama Lua. And even though we’re all off busy with our own separate lives and families, not too much time passes by before we get together to celebrate a birthday (and trust me, there are a lot of birthdays!!), a holiday, or just a Sunday get together to eat menudo or posole.
I know I always say that I still want to live in a different country for every year I'm in my 30’s to work and explore other cultures, but I think I yearn that adventure because I know what I have in my family to come back to. I don’t think I would feel secure nor have the courage to explore the world if I didn’t have my family to fall back on. They will always be my safety net with open arms.
And so we’ll gather this weekend in Brawley to celebrate my sister Rosa and her husband Chelino’s 30th wedding anniversary. I’ve been told that a lot of extended family is coming. Maybe even some from where I was born in Yuba City, CA. I’m completely looking forward to it and excited to see everyone. So I whimsically dedicated this blog to my extended family I don’t get to see everyday like my cousins Elizabeth (Chu), Sarah, Sal, Mariely etc. But most importantly to the following:
My mom and Dad – Carmen and Rafael Lua (passed away in 1995)
First born my sister Mary, her husband Rodrigo, and their daughter (my partner in crime) Marybel Torres (27)
Second born my sister Rosa, her husband Chelino, their kids Josh (28), Johana (24), and Giovani (20)
Third born my late brother Salvador (aka Chava – passed away in 2001), his wife Sylvia, and their daughter Miniquis (13)
Fourth born my sister Lupe, her husband Tony, their kids Gessell (16 and my god-daughter), Brandon (about to be 13), and Savina (3).
Fifth born my sister Carmen, her husband Joel, and baby Miranda on the way.
Sixth born my brother Edgar (29), his soon-to-be wife Jeannette, and their son Diego (1 and my god-son)
7th born is me (28) haha!! No husband, no kids, no thanks haha!!
And lastly but definitely not least 8th born my sister Vanessa (24) and working her way through Cosmetology school.
Of course let me not forget life’s extra blessings within our family: close family friends like Connie, Rene, and others. Close friends of mine like Andrea, Felipe (my mom still says you have sexy legs), Jorge, Edna, Melissa, Vanessa, Steven, Karla, Jennifer, etc. – who my family still asks about from time to time. Although, Andrea pretty much has our last name permanently engraved in her heart because she’s been around us so long. My brother’s friends who my mom adores: Raymond, Pete, Monster (Richard), Lodi, etc. My sister Vanessa’s friends like Michelle and Claudia. And a few others I might have forgotten to mention.
You all make life worthwhile!! Thank you for reading!!
Last night I saw what was probably the most beautiful and natural thing I have ever seen in my entire life. This may be old to coastal living people, but it’s definitely new to me. I’ve been living close to the beach for about 8 years now and I have never heard about this natural phenomenon until this week.
This past Monday, I was driving on the 101 Highway (beach route in Carlsbad, CA) before getting to work and I noticed the water looked very murky. It had this red/rust color and did not look at all tempting to get in, when usually it does. I get to work and I tell my boss about it and he begins to tell me that the change in color in the water is cause by a phenomenon called “Red Tide.”
“Red Tide” (also known as algal bloom) “in an event in which a large concentration of aquatic microorganisms accumulate rapidly through the surface of the water resulting in discoloration. When these microorganisms are present in high concentrations, the water appears to be discolored or murky, varying in colors from purple to almost pin, normally being red or green.”
However, at night when it’s completely dark, when the waves break, an illuminating blue/green glow is seen as the water hits the shore. “The light is emitted by a bioluminescent organism producing energy released from the chemical reactions occurring inside the microorganisms.”
Also, if you step on the sand where the water hits, the sand lights up with every step. See in posted video!!
It is truly and honestly such a sight to see!! I drove past “The Strand” in Oceanside (which is a street you can drive on right next to the beach) and I saw huge waves lighting up as they crashed on the shore. It literally took my breath away and I was left so in awe of the whole thing. I stood there thinking I wish I had someone with me because I felt like it was too good to be true. It was absolutely beautiful. Sort of like a natural light show the ocean was performing. The videos and photos I posted don’t do it justice. It’s a sight you’d have to see to believe. So if you’re in the San Diego area, please go out tonight to see the glowing waves :o)
To this day I still have ideas about writing a book based on my family and our assimilation towards the “Mexican-American” lifestyle and transition to the U.S. I’m a first generation Mexican-American child of my parents and being the 7th out of 8 children, I’ve always noticed a difference between the dialect of the first born to the last. The difference is noticeable because the first four children were born in Mexico, while the last four were born in the U.S. There’s so much I want to say about the way my parents raised us and the sacrifices everyone went through to get to where we are today, that sometimes I don’t know where to start. But in the mean time, I would like to share the experience I remember so vividly when my family and I visited the country I am so proud to be from….Mexico.
Growing up in Brawley, CA and being so close to the border brought many trips to Mexico; especially Mexicali. Saturday trips to Mexicali to visit family, purchase cheap meds or other necessities was a common occurrence with my parents, while weekend trips to San Felipe, Rosarito, Ensenada, etc enriched my culture even more. But there was one trip to Mexico I will never forget. I will never forget the time we went to Rio Grande, Zacatecas and Cotija, Michoacán.
First off, let me just say that I’m not as cultured as I wish I could be in my Mexican background. And that’s no one’s fault. I’m a product of my family and where I was raised. It’s up to me to keep my culture and enrich my soul with the things I feel are missing in my current life as I wrote in this blog a couple of years ago "Why Do They Make Us Jump A Border?" I will never deny where I’m from, what my background is, where my family comes from and I will never understand how some people can do that. I’ve heard so many people say, who are of Mexican ethnicity, that they are not Mexican but instead are just American. My first response to that is “You are an American Citizen, but you are Mexican.” And yet they continue to deny that. I will never understand it. It’s like they’re refusing to acknowledge their entire existence that brought them here to the U.S. It was their ancestors who made sacrifices to get to the U.S. so that they can ignorantly call themselves American. When they say they’re American, but not Mexican, they erase the struggle that brought them there in the first place. It’s ridiculous and a way bigger issue to discuss in this nostalgic memory of my trip to Mexico, so I will leave it at that and save it for another blog.
Anyway, as I was saying…..
I remember I was about 10 years old in 1993 and was in the fifth grade. My sister Carmen was getting married to a very nice man named Joel and the wedding was going to be held in his hometown of Rio Grande, Zacatecas. It was around mid-December and we weren’t going to return back to the U.S. well after winter break from school was over, so I knew I was going to miss school, which got me very excited haha!! I couldn’t tell you how long of a flight it was. I couldn’t tell you because we drove haha!! It was a long two day trip. A bunch of my family bunched up in one blue van which was driven by my sister Rosa and her husband Chelino, while my dad, my mom, my brother Edgar, youngest sister Vanessa, and I rode in my dad’s brown truck that had a red camper attached to it. I will never forget that two day trip. I remember I wanted to make it as comfortable as possible, so I packed on as many blankets and pillows as I could. In the front seat were my mom and my dad who always drove. And in the back truck bed with the camper attached were my brother Edgar (11), my sister Vanessa (6), and myself (10). The only thing connecting my parents with us kids in the back was this tiny sliding window which was kept open the whole time. We couldn’t hear any music they were playing unless we stuck our head through there. And everytime I did, I would hear my parents listening to Ranchera or Mariachi music and I always remember looking at the open Coca Cola soda can my dad always drank. It was his caffeine and he said it’s what kept him awake the whole time while driving.
I will always remember this clever thing my mom did before we left to Mexico. I saw her taking a pair of my brother Edgar’s pants and sow a wad of money into each pocket. I asked her why she was doing that and she answered “En caso si algo pasa.” (In case if something happens). I don’t know why, but that moment will always stay in my head and I thought it was so smart of her to do that.
I don’t remember stopping at a hotel for the night but I do remember we stopped somewhere along the way after a long day of driving. I can picture a bright lit up gas station and our two cars parked right next to eachother. I don’t remember how we accommodated ourselves to laying down to sleep, but I do remember how crowded it felt. It was so crowded that I remember seeing my sister Rosa step out of the van and try to sleep on top of the trailer that was attached to the van carrying our entire luggage. From the window, I see her attempt to lie down to sleep on top of the luggage, but it was so windy and cold that she stepped off and got back in the van. But we were up and out before the sun came up and continued our drive to Zacatecas.
I do have to mention that during our entire trip to Zacatecas and Michoacan, my sister Vanessa and I were at a disadvantage. When we had to go pee, we were forced to hold it in until our next stop while our brother Edgar freely peed inside a soda can my dad would give him haha!! It was totally not fair. And by the time we reached both the first and second destination, the back of that camper smelled like feet and ass haha!! Three chubby kids in the back of that camper leaves little to no room for air circulation haha!!
The next day we arrived in Rio Grande, Zacatecas and we all stayed in my sister Rosa and her husband’s home that they owned there. I remember the streets weren’t streets, but were dirt roads and I would always see young kids jumping on the bumper of the passing cars hitching a ride to wherever they needed to go. I thought it was so dangerous and these kids would just easily jump on there like they were monkeys. My sister’s house wasn’t big, but wasn’t small either. My favorite part of it was the roof, which had an extra room. It had a ladder leading up to it and the extra room was built towards the back of the house and you could walk towards the front and see the whole neighborhood. I loved climbing up there. There were a lot of us staying in that house and I think I got this motto from growing up with it “If there’s floor space, then there’s somewhere to sleep.” The younger kids, including me, all slept in the bedroom that was towards the front of the house while others slept towards the back of the house and on the room on top of the roof. I remember I got so sick of eating eggs for breakfast. Every single morning, all we would eat for breakfast was eggs. Eggs. Egss. Eggs. Every morning haha!!
I was fairly tall for my age around that time and people would always call me Doña, which refers to an older lady in English. People would call me that from far away, but once I got close enough they’d see that I was just a child. I remember being in a store with my mom and I wondered off looking around. I was looking through a few things when I heard a woman from behind me say “Doña, te puedo ayudar con algo?” (Lady, can I help you with something?). I turn around to face her and she says “Oh, perdon mija.” (Oh, sorry.) and walks away. I guess my baby face shut her up.
Before the wedding took place, I remember my sister Rosa and her husband Chelino taking us to a bunch of places we’ve never been. We went to León, Guanajuato which I thought was a BEAUTIFUL city. I remember it being so busy and so popular and I remember sitting on the edge of a big fountain taking a picture with a bunch of us in it. I don’t remember whose camera that was haha!! But the one place I will never forget my sister took us was Plateros, Zacatecas. We saw an old beautiful church and its’ walls and pillars were covered with papers and artifacts from people describing the miracles they’ve witnessed or experienced that were the result of praying to the Holy Son of Atocha. You can read more about it in this blog I found describing the place Plateros, Zacatecas Mexico. It was very breathtaking. There were so many prayers and stories and appreciation and it felt so holy to be there. I know I was just a 10 year old kid seeing this, but I felt amazing being there. I remember feeling privileged to witness such a beautiful thing. It was a huge collection of decades and decades of complete trust and belief in one true faith. It was amazing and I really hope I could go back to visit one day and take photos of my own.
A couple of days later, it was time for my sister Carmen and her husband to be Joel’s wedding. I have to mention this next memory because it is forever embedded in my head since seeing it. The day before the wedding, we were at someone’s house and I remember walking through a doorway leading to what looked like an outside corridor of the house. Kind of like a courtyard. I remember seeing my sister Rosa’s husband Chelino squatting down looking up at me as I passed the doorway and saying “Mira Chena.” (Look Chena). On the floor was a huge pig that was still alive with its’ hooves tied together. I walked back out the doorway as if I knew what was going to happen without it being told to me and didn’t want to see it. I stood there outside the doorway where Chelino was and a second later, I heard the squeals of the pig as it was being cut open. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I peeked in to see if what was happening REALLY WAS happening and I saw blood everywhere. That poor pig served dinner to everyone the next day haha!! I remember the church being so big and so beautiful. It had two huge bell towers and because I was such a fidgety kid, I couldn’t sit still and my mom had to pinch me a couple of times to be quiet during the church ceremony haha!! The reception was even bigger. The hall was huge and full of loud music and lots of dancing was going on. There were so many people and I will never forget seeing Joel’s mom crying so much at the head table. After the wedding, Joel was going to be moving back to the U.S. with us and his mother was completely heartbroken over it. I remember seeing her cover her face with her hands sobbing so uncontrollably and her husband (Joel’s dad) with both his arms around her trying to console her. It was the sweetest and saddest thing I had ever seen. But nonetheless, the wedding was a hit and my sister and Joel are still married to this day and hold such a strong love for eachother that sometimes reminds me of horny teenagers haha!! Sorry Carmen!!
The next day, my parents, my brother Edgar, my sister Vanessa, and myself were off to Cotija, Michoacán to visit our aunts, uncles, and grandmother on my dad’s side. Another two day car drive and another blog post for another day. Mexico – Part 2 will be up next week. I will never forget Michoacán. And I can’t wait to tell you all about it. Thank you for reading.
*Blog was written Monday August 29th, 2011. It references "last night" to meaning Sunday night.
I spent most of the day yesterday organizing things in my room and preparing for another school/work week. Since I’ve returned to school, I’ve been really staying on top of keeping myself organized and not getting distracted with my health goals. I know that adding school to my work schedule will definitely interfere with my workout schedule since I usually do all my workouts after work at the beach. However, I’m determined to pull through this semester and fit into my jeans I’ve hung above my piano. I hung them above my piano so I can see them everyday and remind myself how much I loved my jeans when I used to fit into them. I need to lose about 25 more pounds to fit into them and I’m sure other jeans and shirts will add to my current wardrobe collection that I can wear instead of hiding them in the back of my closet haha!! The only thing that gets me nervous is that I won’t have time to do my usual workouts so with work and school schedule in hand, I’ve made a workout routine to fit into my busy weeks for the next four months. Let’s hope I can stick to it!!
After I finished organizing my room around yesterday, I couldn’t sleep all night and ended up staying wide awake around midnight. I had been watching a movie earlier in the evening and heard a beautiful song that just made me think of someone. I pulled out my trustee iphone and opened the Shazam Application. It’s supposed to recognize songs you’re currently listening to if you don’t know the name of it. Unfortunately, Shazam couldn’t identify it either. Probably because it is a really old song and not in its inventory. It reminded me of old classical music like that of in Casa Blanca (beautiful movie by the way – one of my favorites). I memorized a line from the song, googled it, and it turned out to be “Time After Time” by Margaret Whiting. I thought it was such a beautiful song. I purchased it on itunes and not being able to sleep, I go out for a midnight drive.
Normally when I cruise around Oceanside at night, I’m usually downtown riding along the 101 enjoying the bright lights of the busy street. Or, if I want it to be a little quieter, I drive south of the 101 and end up at Carlsbad Beach where I park my car, sit on the sand, and listen to the waves hit the shore and watch the stars at night.
I was headed north on the 101 driving along downtown Oceanside when I popped in the song I had just purchased. The slow melodic sound and that haunting voice of hers was pulling at my heartstring so hard (song is posted below). It made me think of someone. Someone I’ve written about here before. Someone who a month ago was asking for another chance. I guess I had every reason to be more cautious this time. I felt so connected to her voice in the song and feeling that at one point I thought I could say everything she was singing to this one person. All the hope I felt and everything I believed just disappeared without explanation. I wish I had the explanation. It isn’t fair to me. And I don’t understand how, just how it could happen again and how can he do that to someone. Especially after always believing him and trusting that this time it was real. I could never hurt someone like that. Never.
So as I slowly wiped my teary eyes, I put the song on repeat and tried to clear my head. I was so in love with this song that I couldn’t stop listening to it. I made a u-turn on the 101 and was headed south wanting to go to the beach. Listening to the song over and over again, the strangest thoughts entered my mind. I thought of myself serenading my nephew/god-son Diego with it. Maybe singing the song at my brother’s upcoming wedding, wishing them the eternal love this song represents. And then a memory entered my mind of my late brother Chava (Salvador).
I don’t know why the song made me think of him, but it did. It was a sweet memory. It was a memory from when my family and friends were celebrating my niece’s Quinceñera when I was 15 years old. I was two months away from turning 16 and I had already celebrated my own Quinceñera the year before. I served as a dama (maid) in her court and she had served as one in mine as well. I was happy with my Quinceñera. I know my mom did all she could to provide me with one. As well as my older sisters who pitched in and I was truly grateful. But I remember feeling a bit down during my niece’s party. There we all were in a big rented salon with a huge DJ, a limousine, and center pieces that were so much prettier than mine. I never told anyone this, but I felt like all my older sisters put more of an effort into my niece’s party than mine because she was skinny and pretty and I was chubby and weird looking. I know that wasn’t the case, but I couldn’t help feeling this way. I know my niece’s parents (my oldest sister and my brother-in-law) had the money to provide her with everything for her party and my mom did what she could with mine. I don’t blame anyone for my party because I honestly had a good time. Even if it was in my backyard haha!!
But still, I was feeling down, sitting at the head table where all the maids and escorts sit, I was watching everyone dancing having a good time. The salon had an empty room to the side with a half-wall partition where the food was served and since it was empty, because dinner was over, I went in there to be by myself. I had turned off the light, took a chair, and sat in the middle of the room. I remember thinking about my dad and how I didn’t get to have my “father and daughter dance” with him at my Quinceñera because he had passed away four years prior. Then I remembered what my sister Lupe once told me when I was walking down the aisle at the church ceremony. She said “Make a little room for Dad. He’ll be there.” Oh man that made me cry so much that day. But I never talked about it.
Sitting in that room I remember thinking “Why couldn’t I have had this party too?” I was leaning back on my chair, in my pink maid dress, with my arms folded across my chest when I began to fight the tears from coming down. I was trying really hard not to cry when my oldest brother Chava sees me through the half-wall partition from the dance floor, comes inside, turns on the light and asks “What are you doing in here?” I answer “Nothing. Just hanging out.” He could clearly see that I had been crying even though I denied it. Without hesitation, he grabs my arm and pulls me to the dance floor to dance with him. He was trying to cheer me up without admitting that he knew I was upset. I’ll never forget that moment. It changed my mood for the rest of the night.
I still think a lot about my late dad and brother. Sometimes, more than I want to. Sometimes, it overwhelms me. Sometimes, I feel guilty when I don’t think about them at all. It’s strange. I sometimes think about writing a book about it. A book about how the mourning process has been and still is. Sometimes I feel like it will never end. And I honestly feel so ridiculous to even write this and say it out loud because it’s been so many years now. It’s been so long. But maybe in all these years I’ve never really confronted the actuality of it. Who knows? I can’t say time will tell because time hasn’t told me anything this far in.
So I ended up at Carlsbad beach and parked my car. I walk onto the sand and sit myself down looking up into the sky. I know this sounds poetic, cheesy, maybe even dramatic, but it’s what I enjoy to do when I wan to clear my head. I have my iphone secure under my right shoulder bra strap listening to “Time After Time” while looking at the stars and listening to the waves. I’m curiously looking around when I see a huge shooting star fall from the sky. It took my breath away. It was so bright and I felt as if I was meant to see it. I felt as if it was meant for me. I didn’t make a wish on it, like I normally do whenever I see one, but instead I said “Hi” to my dad and brother. Maybe it was them dropping in to say hello. It made me smile from ear to ear. I didn’t stay much longer since it was well past midnight but it felt really nice to feel what seemed like a spiritual connection to those I’ve lost. It's always been said that people in their darkest hour always find hope. I never want to have a dark hour. Even when missing someone puts me there. I just want to have hope. Thank you for reading.
This isn’t really much of a post, however, I’ve been really thinking about grasping moments in life that are significant to oneself whether going through hardship or not. I’ve been really thinking about all the things I look forward to in life despite whatever hard situation I may be in. I’ve always thought of myself as a “look to the brighter side of things in life” type of person and I think a lot of my friends would agree; especially my sisters. I don’t embarrass too easily, but instead grasp the moment in a way that is funny because, one way or another, someone is going to get an amusement out of it and it might as well be you. When people are down and going through something that just puts their smile out of business, it’s hard to crawl out of the hole they’ve dug themselves into. I don’t know if I’ve ever been in that big of a hole. Maybe I have. Maybe I haven’t. But one thing is for sure; I will come out and wait for the moments in my life that are important to me. And in no particular order, I wrote a few of them below. What are your moments? What are you looking for? What is your hope? What makes you smile? What do you want out of life?
Moments that take my breath away.
Moments that surprise and shock me.
Moments that are spontaneous.
Moments that leave me in awe.
Moments to sing.
Moments to educate.
Moments that surprise.
Moments that challenge.
Moments to forgive and to be forgiven.
Moments to help someone in need.
Moments that make you smile.
Moments that make you laugh.
The good laugh. The crazy laugh. The laugh that leaves you breathless.
Moments that make me cry.
The good cry. The powerful cry. The passionate cry. The happy cry.
Moments that give you chills.
Moments that never leave me wondering.
Moments where I’m always seeking my truths.
Moments with close friendships.
Moments with bonding.
Moments with family.
Moments to embrace.
Moments with secrets and trust.
Moments with passtion, love, and care.
Moments that are sweet.
Moments that are sincere.
Moments that are innocent.
Moments that are bashfully and sinfully guilty.
Moments that are pure.
Moments that are intimate.
Moments to learn.
Moments to accept.
Moments to understand.
Moments to know when to let go.
Moments to move on.
Moments to know right from wrong.
Moments to never hurt someone.
Moments to know your limit.
Moments to give people chances. Worthy chances.
Moments that you always believe in.
Moments with hope.
Moments with courage.
And forever the eternal moment to love someone who really loves you back.
For those of you who know me, know that I love to sing. I can’t remember how early in my life I started singing, but the earliest memory I have of me singing is standing in front of my sister Carmen’s vanity mirror in our shared bedroom, using her Aqua Net hairspray bottle as a microphone, and singing along to Mariah Carey’s “Emotions” released single on the radio.
The year was 1991, I was about 8 or 9 years old, dolled up in my sister’s make up (which she always told me not to touch) and I remember standing there loving the fact that I could hit (or so I thought at the time) Mariah’s notes while singing the song, except of course I could never hit that high pitch whistle sound she hits (like here), but I could hit all her other ones. I stood there in front of the mirror singing and dancing and skipping the high pitch whistle notes feeling like I was at my own concert. I suddenly hear the living room door close and I quickly run towards the middle section of the stairs. I hide behind the divided wall that separates the stairs case and I see that it’s Carmen getting home. I run back upstairs in a panic licking my hands and using my saliva to wipe off the makeup. I lower the volume on the radio, continue wiping off the make up with my hands and saliva waiting for her to get to our bedroom. She comes in and asks me the question she always asked whenever she was suspicious of me doing something I shouldn’t have been doing “What are you doing?!!” I answer in a calm yet nervous manner “Nothing. Just listening to music.” An occurrence that happened quite often. Sorry sister hehehe!!
So as I grew older, my passion to sing grew stronger and stronger and I really started to get into it when I entered high school. I did talent shows, had a solo in chorus and our Baccalaureate, and sang the National Anthem for a pep rally. I even based my senior project on recording and producing a song. It was a song I originally wrote. Thanks to my other sister Lupe, I had a mentor who was able to provide everything to record and produce my song. Along with my guitar instructor who put music to the song while I sang what I imagined the melody to be. I always thought I would pursue singing after high school but I knew that the realistic thing to do was to go to college. And so I did. But throughout college and up until my current position post college and working full time, I’ve sang just about every day of my life. Sometimes to annoy others like my niece Marybel or my sister Vanessa haha!! But for the most part, because it’s just what I like to do. Even if I’m down and having a terrible day, I’ll sing a heartbreaking song to go along with my mood or I'll sing in a whisper, but nonetheless sing just to sing.
I’ve written countless songs that never get to have music to them because I can’t afford to pay someone to put music to them and I don’t know how to play instruments; which is currently changing as I am now taking piano and guitar lessons. As of now, I only wish to be good enough on the piano and guitar to be able to sing with my songs. I’m starting off with cover songs which is great practice but eventually I’d like to be able to come up with my own melodies to my own words and hopefully perform them at open mics just to do it for fun. No, I don’t expect to get famous nor do I crave the success that many A-list singers have, it would be nice and I wouldn’t deny it, but that’s not what I want. I just want to be able to sing my songs. One day I will :o)
So everybody knows of the successful show American Idol. Ever since it came out in 2001, people have been telling me to try out. I’ve always been curious to see if I would be able to make it but never had the balls to do it. Every year that they had auditions, I would say to myself “Well, maybe next year.” I don’t know how I got over my fear, but somehow I mustered the courage to finally try out this year. Since their cut off age is 28, I decided to might as well give it a try because I’ve got nothing to lose and it’s my one and only last chance.
The process was long and draining. I had to drive to Petco Park in San Diego (I live in Oceanside – approximately 30 minutes away), register on Wednesday morning and return Friday at 5am. I asked for the day off at work to be able to attend and hopefully change my life. I wasn’t feeling nervous the night before. Instead, I was trying to figure out if the choices of songs I had were good enough. A short conversation with my best friend changed my mind about my song selection. So I followed her advice and chose to do a Faith Hill song. I was browsing around you tube to see which song I could do when I came across a live performance of her song “Stronger.” I immediately fell in love with it. It was 11:15pm that night and I had to wake up at 3am to leave at 4am to be at Petco Park by 5am. It took me about 2 hours to memorize the part of the song I wanted to sing so needless to say I had about an hour and half of sleep. I had only told a few people I was going to do the audition and got encouraging “good luck” texts and phone calls that morning.
When I got there, I was appalled by the $10 and $15 dollar parking fee and since my usual exercise is walking, I decided to park far to avoid paying. Me and thousands of other hopefuls waited outside the stadium sitting on the street waiting to be called. There were strange people, nice people, silly people, and dressed in costumes people on that warm July 8th day. When we finally were lead into the stadium around 8am, we were told that if our water bottle seals were broken, we would have to throw it away. Unfortunately, I had drank mine half way so I had to get rid of it. A young girl in front of me in the security line check asked a guard “Don’t you think it’s kind of ridiculous that your telling us to get rid of our water bottles and we’re all here to sing?!! Nobody told us our bottles couldn’t be opened until we got inside.” The guard just shook his head and let her through without her water bottle.
After a few promotional shots with the camera crew where the crowd shouts “American Idol San Diego!!” the audition process began. We were sitting in our seats according to ticket numbers that were when we registered. The morning wasn’t so bad but as the day went on and the sun got higher, I really began to feel the heat get to me. A lot of people brought umbrellas and I was really wishing I had mine too. I really should have brought mine because I got really burned that day and it really hurt the next day haha!! It was so hot that my throat began to feel dry and I was desperate for hydration!! I, always being broke and never wanting to spend the little money that I do have, gave in and bought an unfairly priced $5 dollar ice tea that tasted gross to sooth my throat. I had been sitting in my seat for over six hours when our section was finally being called. I can’t imagine how much longer the rest of the crowd waited since I registered within the first 3 hours that they allowed. Registration was open for 48 hours and there were still a lot of people registering close to the time limit.
When my section was finally called, we were divided into groups of four and were told to go to whichever tent number was ready. There were approximately 10 to 12 tents aligned down the center of the field and if you got a golden ticket, you’d walk to the right to proceed to another audition and so on. I found out that you eventually audition about 3 times with produces of the show before you are selected to return in November to audition in front of the three celebrity judges when it's filmed. But if you didn’t get a golden ticket, then you’d walk to the left and try for better luck next year. As I stood there in my group of 4, I kept waiting for the nerves to kick in but I was surprisingly calm. I guess I had this “Oh what the hell. Might as well have some fun” kind of attitude which I think really helped me stay calm.
When my group was finally called to tent number 4, I was observing everyone around me. Terrible singers were being turned down as well as amazing singers. I would think to myself “Wow! That person’s voice gave me goose bumps!! Why would they turn that person down?” When the first two people in my group stepped up for their 30 second audition, they were cut within the first 10 seconds. The third guy got 20 seconds and I’m not gonna lie, I was afraid they were gonna cut me off too. But nonetheless, I stepped up, started singing my song and was surprised to see that they let me finish. I even went over my time limit because my audition piece lasted 40 seconds. In my head, I was like “so, is that a yes?” But no, it was a no haha!! I was given good advice, complimented on my voice, and told that maybe I should return next year. If they raise their age limit to 30, which they’ve done in the past, then I would definitely go back next year when I’m 29. Oh and did I mention that my judge was young gorgeous hot man? No? Oh ok, well he was and I had no trouble singing for him haha!!
As I was leaving the stadium, I had completely forgotten where I parked and ended up walking in every opposite direction where my car was. It was approximately 85 or more degrees with no cloud in sight, I was completely dehydrated, and had to pee so bad when I finally gave up searching for my car after 45 minutes and walked into the trolly station next to the stadium. I found the bathroom, leaned over the sink, threw water at my face, drank out of the faucet, collected myself for a few minutes, and finally remembered the name of the street where my car was parked. I asked an employee there where Island Avenue was and he pointed in the only directed I hadn’t looked. Yup, this is just my kind of luck. On my way there, I run into a homeless lady laying down under a tree asking me if I was at Petco Park for the auditions. I said yes and she proceeded to ask me to sing for her. Having renewed my spirit and energy with the short bathroom break I just had, I went ahead and started singing her the song I auditioned. She let me finish and asked “They said no to that? Honey, I would have said yes. You have a beautiful voice.” I kindly thanked her for her sweet compliment and we parted ways. On my way to my car, I ran into other people that looked like would have wanted to steal my purse had I not been really hanging on to it tight and walking fast. I finally got to my car after passing an odd woman shouting loud and offensive obscenities to herself and was ready to go home and take a nap.
I left there not feeling disappointed nor discouraged, but proud of the fact that I finally did it. It was an experience altogether and I definitely don’t regret it. Maybe next time I’ll audition for “The Voice” haha!! But for now, I’ve got my piano, I’ve got my guitar, and I’ve got my voice. What else could I ask for? :o)
Below I posted an extended version of the song I auditioned. It’s called “Stronger” by Faith Hill. Mind the last wanna-be powerful note I tried to hit. I need to practice that a little more haha!! And the following videos are just a few songs I like to sing including a failed duet attempt with mom singing a song in Spanish. Thank you for reading :o)
Oh and I should mention, I don’t have a fancy camera or laptop (laptop is currently broken) to record myself singing, so I use my iphone for now holding it upside down so that I could be able to sing into the receiving end. I’ll eventually put up videos of myself singing in front of the camera as soon as I get my laptop (laptop has a camera in it) fixed and start to upload cover song videos I’ll be working on with my piano and guitar :o) Thanks again for reading and listening :o)
There's nothing I love more than being able to write poetry and have it reflect on the things that go on in my life. Here, I present you three poems.
The first one titled "I did" is a very personal poem documenting a small piece of what I went through with someone I once fell in love with. Yes, it's hard to say "I fell in love with him" but nonetheless I really like how the piece came out. It actually took me a while to complete it. I think it may have taken me three or four months, but it's finally finished and I hope you like it as well.
The second one titled "My Best Friend" was inspired by a friendship I saw between my friends Edna and Cristian from high school. I was reading their facebook comments to each other one day and replied "awww, I wish I could take a picture of your friendship and frame it." Cristian, the silly guy that he is, later tagged me on a bunch of photos of him and Edna together and I said that one day I would write a poem about it. Since then, he's been annoyingly asking for it haha!! So here it is and I hope you enjoy it. I actually really like it. I think a lot of it was inspired from my best friend Andrea and the other strong friendships I have with others.
And lastly but definitely not least, I have a poem I wrote for Mother's Day of this year titled "Través de los Ojos de Sus Hijos." I printed several copies of it on a back white washed photo of my beautiful niece Savina, rolled it, tied them to single red roses, and passed them out to the wonderful women in my family. I really really really suck at Spanish grammar so please excuse the horrible misspelling haha!! Enjoy!!
I did.
I trickle down from the height of the cloud And with little time I pleasured the view I prayed for no fades to come in my way But fainter it grew, it was nothing so new
I’ve been there before many a times You holding my heart with sweet little lies The more I bliss the more it blinds All of your cries of filthy deny
So I float with smiles and stars in my eyes Never to escape these sweet butterflies Feeding the soul of my heart, alluring speech Keeping me close to your arm’s reach
But never too quick to define what we have I seek for the title I wish that I had Empty words just coating my ears Of “honey,” “baby,” oh and “my dear”
At last I see what I thought I saw before Nothing to expect and nothing more Confronting the fears that were in my mind I wonder myself love really is blind
A month and a day slowly pass by Since that hurtful day, that final goodbye Still I see you when I close my eyes And wish you’d call just to say “hi”
I crave your voice and everything of you And yet nothing I get in the month of June A cliché so true but I can finally see You did not care nor did you fight for me
Your empty apologies echoed our past I question the pain and how long it could last But I stand strong and want you to know I did love you once but I’m ready to let go
By: Jessenia Lua
My Best Friend
I come to you with things I don’t really share Or hardly speak of in the whispering air Other friends may have come and gone Blessed was my path that was laid upon It led me to you and your caring heart A true friendship that never falls apart If I cry and with my tears I cause rain I trust you’ll be there to understand my pain But when we laugh so hard we cannot breathe It renders a moment that makes me believe I’m lucky to have a friend just like you Something so pure, honest, and true I thank whatever powerful being sent you to me Eternal friendship as beautiful can be
By: Jessenia Lua
Través de los Ojos de Sus Hijos
Tus besos eran las primeras cosas que me hizo sentir vivo. Tus abrazos fueron mi primera casa. Tu voz era mi primer consuelo. Tu sonrisa era la primera cosa bella que vi. Tu amor fue lo primero que sentí era real Para mi querida Madre, De sus hijos muy agradecidos, Gracias por todo el amor que me has dado. Feliz Día de las Madres. Con amor siempre, Sus hijos
The following piece is a block of writing I did as sort of a “conversation with myself” regarding a few things about dating and relationships and whatever the hell was going through my mind. I basically just threw up all over the page. No, I didn’t sit down and actually have a conversation with myself. I just keep thinking about all the things I’ve come to realize in my 28 years of life and love and the frustrations that come with it. Hold your judgment. It’s not very child friendly.
What the hell do I know about love? I know that I’m not in a hurry to find it. I’m not looking to get married. I don’t think I even want kids. Unless, as I always say, that golden rule of “if I ever experience the right kind of love, then maybe it’ll change my mind about marriage and kids.” But not just any kind of puppy love. The kind of love that’s breathtaking and can’t live without and crazy and scary and loyal and faithful and amazing all at the same time kind of love. I’ve had the kind of love that’s “awww, I really love him because he’s so wonderful” and who knows maybe it could have grown to the “right kind of love” but it was never given a chance. But besides the idea of love, there’s that vulnerable state of mind where two people can say anything to each other. Hearts are wide open and you give and take everything you have to say about each other so damn seriously and you remember every single word, every phrase, every feeling you make each other feel. The both of you are just right there clicking and connecting every single damn thing about each other and you think “Whoa!! This is weird!! Great weird!!” But then it goes away. Not by choice. He takes it away. It leaves you feeling like you got beat up or something like it. So you ask yourself “What the hell just happened? What the fuck went wrong?” I can’t believe I put up with it for almost two years. So you’re left having to move on. And you do. Slowly. Painfully. You do. So after a while you try something new and put up a profile on a dating website. Looks promising. Some have interest and you begin to communicate. First potential emails you and asks if you would like to go out on a date. Sounds like fun. When shall we go? Oh wait a minute. What’s that now? You want me to let you suck on my toes while you jack off on our first date? Really?!! Delete. Delete! Delete!! Should I just give up? But wait!! Random text from him last week saying “Can’t stop thinking about you.” Take a pause. Think about how you’re going to respond or if you should even respond. Give it a few hours to respond “I used to wish for you to think that of me everyday.” Used to. That’s the phrase. But no response. He recognized the “used to” in the sentence. Now you’re thinking “Come on. If he really meant that, then he’d still try to get a hold of me.” Still silence. Nada. And I can’t believe how over and over and over and over and over and over – yes one more – and over I specifically told him how I felt and what I wanted. Yet he never denied me nor acknowledged me. He’d throw out a few “I miss you’s” and “I think about you constantly” every now and then to keep me close. That’s it!! That was the trick!! I got it!! Whoa I got it haha!! Ok well….oh looks like I got a new email from the site. Nice profile dude. Awww he’s such a sweetheart. Reply girl! Don’t let him get away. A few exchanges over the next few hours. You makin’ me smile boo!! Wait, what did that last one say? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!!!! THIS IS LIKE THE 20TH TIME BY THE 20TH IDIOT FUCKING DAMN IT!!!! DOES IT SAY ON MY PROFILE “ONLY GOOD FOR FUCKING?!!!” All hell the mighty BITCH FIT!!!! Deleted my profile!!! Where the fuck is my phone?!! Ok, this is it!!!! I’m deleting you for good and for real this time!! Goodbye R****!!!! No text messages!! No cell phone number!!! Now let me clear my email……arrange email by who it’s from…..letter R…….click the first, followed by down to the last. Click. The mouse hangs over the delete button. Think about it. Ok. Click. Deleted. Search box type in his name. Search equals to empty. Good. Just making sure. Wait, still have to delete him from my work email. There he is. Highlight, highlight, highlight. Send a last but stupid “happy two year anniversary” email for shits and giggles. Sent. Ok now…..DELETE. That’s all of it. He’s gone. Too bad because I never hurt him. I never did anything to hurt him. I just loved him. Once. So I’m always going to wonder how the hell can you hurt someone who does nothing but care and love you. Don’t I at least deserve your honesty? Just the truth. I don’t think the truth was all there. But I’ll never know now. And the thing is…….I don’t care for dating. I don’t care if I’m alone. I’m not one of those girls that says “I wish I had a boyfriend.” Fuck no!! That ain’t me!! But if you’re interested in me and I become interested in you, have true fucking intentions to want to get to know me. Be a fucking gentleman. Because when/if you approach me and ask me to “have a good time” with you and I don’t even know you, I’m gonna want to answer “go fuck a goat with your two-inch dick, you asshole.” But I’m a nice person. So I’ll kindly turn you down. Really. Don’t let all these cuss words fool you. It’s my nature to be nice. I get it from my mom and my family. All the cussing is simply out of frustration. So, I’m completely removing myself from the equation. Completely. And I don’t give a shit about what anyone thinks of me after reading this. It’s actually quite cathartic. I recommend anyone doing this as well. Thank you for reading.
……..BUT I DIDN’T GIVE A DAMN HAHAHAAAA!!!! This just goes to show me that if I can do this, then I can do ANYTHING!!! Yesterday’s event was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. As you may have read in my previous post (My First 5K!!), I have been training to do my very first 5K race for the past 3 ½ months.
It all started with me wanting to be more active, lose weight, and get healthy (which I've done before but never really committed to it until now), so I figured since I was using walking as a way to do and start all that, then might as well enter a 5K and have it as a goal to meet.
Well……let me tell you…….3.1 miles is a long ass way to go, especially when you’re as slow as me haha!! Each week that I was training for the 5K, I would add a little distance to it. I really wasn’t paying too much attention to the time I was doing it in, but more on distance because, to me, that’s what mattered the most. I didn’t really care about the time because time isn’t what was going to challenge my body. The distance is what was going to challenge my body. So a few weeks before the 5K, I had already been up to 2 miles per walk and was slowly crawling up to 2.5 miles. The last week before the 5K I had set out to complete 2 three-mile walks therefore preparing me for the 5K.
The Wednesday and Friday before the 5K I was able to do 3 miles and I was beyond excited and thrilled. I knew all I had to do was rest my legs all day Saturday and get ready for Sunday’s event!! Well…….at least I tried to haha!! Saturday night I only ended up sleeping two hours because I ended up staying up catching up with my friend Ricky who went with me to take photos of the event. I hadn’t seen Ricky in years but kept in contact with him through facebook and when he offered to go with me to take photos, I was so grateful and took him up on his offer.
The 5K had to be in LA because the one I originally wanted to sign up for in San Diego (since I live in Oceanside and it’s the closest) was full. So my next best option was to do the one in L.A. I really didn’t mind since it wasn’t much of a drive and I could also stop by there and see my precious nephew/Godson along with my brother and his fiancé. So it was a two for one deal for me!!
Ricky and I had to get up at 4am Sunday morning to get ready and hit the road at 5am. The last time I was up that early was probably a year ago when I was still awake from the night before haha!! One quick stop at the gas station and we were off!! Usually when I sit in my car seat for a long period of time, my back begins to hurt a little. It took about 2 hours (because we got lost haha!!) to get there and even though I popped in an Ibuprofen, it didn’t really stop the pain. I was getting really nervous and excited when I got there and got my sign to pin on my shirt. My friend Ricky kept joking with me telling me to stop looking mad but I was just nervous by the time 7:45am came because it was going to begin at 8am. I didn’t know why I was nervous. I just was haha!!
The 5K was being held by Weight Watchers and presented by USA Marathon Training which is a sports team located in Los Angeles. Most of the Weight Watcher members were there with their shirts that you receive in the mail when signing up for the 5K but since I had signed up late, I hadn’t received mine yet. Each shirt was personalized with their own words and if I had gotten mine, it would have read “To Be A Runner One Day!!” I’ll get in the mail soon though :o)
After a quick warm up with Coach Pat Connelly, everybody was ready to go and off we went!! It was held at Griffith Park right next to the L.A. zoo. The settings and trails were very beautiful and some of it was very scenic so it was an all around pleasure to walk there. I had heard someone say that there were about 500 people but I can’t be too sure about that. I had my earphones on to listen to music and had my Walkmeter application running on my iphone to notify me of the distance and time. Within half a mile, I could feel my back begin to bother me. And within a mile, it was downright painful. But I kept on and pushing through the pain. On top of that, my right thigh muscle felt like it was going to fall off but no matter what, I didn’t want to stop. I had slowed down significantly because of my back and thigh and slowly watched almost everyone pass in front of me. I wasn’t the last one, but I was definitely slowing down enough to be.
By the time I reached 2.5 miles, I kept stopping every few minutes to stretch my back. Two ladies that were the last people behind me stopped to check to see if I was Ok. I said I was fine and just needed to stretch my back and they kindly stretched with me. That moment made my heart smile. After we finished stretching, we walked together and as we got closer, we stopped to stretch one more time but this time two volunteers came up to us to see if we were Ok. We told them we were fine and just stretching our backs. They were so kind and encouraging and even showed us other ways to stretch that completely made my back feel so much better. As we kept on walking, we could see the finish line and the volunteers were there encouraging us to finish. I started to slow down again and as the two ladies went ahead of me, I knew I was going to be the last one but I didn’t care. I saw a group of people standing at the finish line and Coach Pat Connelly ready to shake my hand.
As I reached Coach Connelly, I shook his hand with my right hand, and covered my face with my left hand because I could feel tears starting to come out of my eyes. Hearing everyone cheering and yelling for me as I completed that 5K took such an emotional toll on me that I started to cry and felt so overwhelmed by everyone’s support. After I shook Coach Connelly’s hand, a total stranger and fellow 5K member named Yvonne came up to me and gave me the most welcoming warmest hug I’ve ever felt. I buried my face in her shoulder and just cried and cried and cried while she and everyone standing around congratulated and cheered me on. And the cherry on top of it all was that my friend Ricky captured everything in photos. Not only was I happy for him doing that for me, but I was just happy that he was there. He has been one of my biggest supporters since starting this and I’m lucky to have him as a friend. I can’t wait to get the photos from him and share them with all of you.
I don’t think there are enough words in the entire international dictionary that could describe the feeling I felt crossing that finish line. But I do know this…….the day I die, the day I take one last breath, and the day my heart beats for one more time, I know I will live a little longer because I will think of that moment one last time. All I will have to do is think of that moment when I crossed the finish line to my very first 5K and I will breath a little longer, my heart beat will beat a little faster, and I will smile a little wider because what I did that day was truly to better myself.
And until that day come, I will forever be grateful for all of the support I’ve had from family, friends, and complete strangers. I could not have done any of it without you. My next one will be on July 4th and I can't wait to do it!! So I encourage anyone who can barely walk for 10 minutes without getting back pain or leg pain, or even getting winded, to start by taking it a little step at a time. A little every day goes a long way. Thank you for reading.
As some of you may know, I started training for a 5K walk a couple of months ago. I had always heard about these type of challenges from friends and co-workers [Hi Lauri :o)] but was never really interested in them because I knew I could never physically do one. That is until I made a change earlier this year.
Throughout my entire life I’ve battled with my weight. I’m not going to get too into it because 1) Not ready to go there. And 2) That’s not what this blog is about. However, my weight is what has been holding me back from being active. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always dreamed about being active but never was. I used to always say to myself (and still do): I wish I could be a runner, I wish I could be a surfer, I wish I could be a cyclist, I wish I could….., etc.
So earlier this year when I went to go sit at the beach, close to where I work, I sat there and pondered about all the people I saw jogging, walking, cycling, and surfing. I wondered about how long they’ve done it and if I could actually picture myself doing what they’re doing. I saw the steady stance of the jogger, the easy pace of the walker, the fast speed of the cyclist, and the surfer riding that sweet wave. I thought to myself: “How long would it take for me to be fit enough to do all that?” I knew that I couldn’t jog, I couldn’t be a cyclist, and I for sure didn’t know how to surf. But the one thing I can do is walk. After all, that’s how two of my sisters got in shape…………..by walking.
The day was Wednesday January 26, 2011 when I started out on my first walk that was going to lead to me getting fit. Now, I’ve started many walks before but have never been consistent as I am now. Usually when I start walking, I only last up to two weeks and then I quit. But this time, I didn’t want to quit. This time, I wanted to keep going. This time, I wanted to become that walker, that jogger, that cyclist, that surfer, and all other sports I can get into. And I haven’t stopped since!!
I remember that first walk. I had set out a routine at Tamarack Beach right across from where I work in Carlsbad so it could be convenient for me. I wasn’t sure how far I was going to go, but I set my clock to sound off in 10 minutes so that the moment I walked 10 minutes away from my car where I had parked, I could return back and complete 20 minutes of walking time total. I was coming from no exercise in months so I knew I had to start slow. It was incredibly painful. My lower back was killing me within five minutes of starting, my thigh muscles were burning from the sudden movement, and I was panting like a tired dog. The trail has a slight incline on the walk back to my car and I would often stop in the middle of it to catch my breath. I didn’t think going any further was possible. At that moment I pretty much kissed jogging, cycling, surfing, and all the other sports goodbye. I didn’t measure it but I’m pretty sure it was only ¼ of a mile. I couldn’t believe how out of shape I was. But I didn’t give up. The next day I went again for another 10 minutes away from my car. I had made it a priority no matter what and ended up doing it 5 to 6 times a week. As it got easier, I would add a minute to my time. By the third week I was walking 14 minutes away from my car.
I was really beginning to wonder what distances I was walking so I downloaded an application on my iphone that measures distance, time, calories, etc. The first time I used it was on February 8, 2011 where it measured I had walked 0.8 miles. As of yesterday, I can walk 2 miles. The application is allowing me to see my progress from start to finish and shows other statistics that I can compare to the very beginning.
When I first heard about a 5K being held on the third week of May in San Diego, I didn’t really think too much of it. I was only in my 7th week of walking and I didn’t think I could do it. But then I realized that this would be a perfect opportunity for me to have a goal. The only goal I’ve had was to just walk and I already was doing that. So I signed up!!!!
Since I had been doing all this walking, I decided to give my neighborhood another try a couple of weeks ago. When I first moved in, I really liked the area because there is a long walking trail along the way with two stop signs, a traffic light, another stop sign and one more traffic light that equals to about 1.2 miles one way. My first goal was to make it to the first stop sign, but because of the incline of the hill, I didn’t even reach it. I said “forget it” and didn’t go again until a couple of weeks ago. I had been doing all of my walking at the beach where the incline is there but not as steep as the ones in my neighborhood. Those hills makes my walks feel more like hiking. So, feeling like I could reach the first stop sign, I grabbed my walking shoes and headed out for it. Not only did I pass the first stop sign, I passed the second stop sign, and reached the first traffic light!!!! You cannot imagine the unbelievable feeling that came over me!!!! All those images of other activity sports came back at me like I can and will do it one day!!
I couldn’t believe the improvement I’ve made. And now that I’ve had this momentum going, it’s hard to even stop. I’ve realized that I’m in that state of mind now where I’ll think “Tomorrow I won’t have time to workout after work, so I better get up an hour early to do it.” And I love that about me right now!! I love that because it makes me realize that no matter how busy I get with work and returning back to school in the fall to study for my credential, I know I’m going to make my health my priority from now on!! Despite going through things in life that can stop you or end your motivation, like what I wrote about in this blog: Ever Tried Falling Asleep With a Broken Heart?, I found the strength in me to not give this up. It is too damn good.
And Although I’ve only reached two miles in one walk, for me it’s a lot. Coming from being completely inactive to walking 5 to 6 times a week is definitely an accomplishment. Two miles may be nothing for a healthy fit person, but it helped me lose 20 pounds and it’s the beginning to a more fit and active me. With the 5K coming up I’ve definitely kicked up my walks with adding a little running to them but I know my body won’t let me do that just yet so I have to take running slow. And after I complete this first 5K, I hope to complete many many many more!! I even dream of doing the NY marathon one day. I don't care how long or how slow it takes for me to get there. I'll get there. One day, I’ll be the runner I’ve always wanted to be. One day, I’ll be the active person I’ve always dreamed of being. And one day, I’ll be able to say that I do yoga, pilates, boxing, surfing, canoeing, kayaking, cycling, running, hiking, etc. Just add a little at a time. Thanks for reading :o)
I know my last post was a bit of a drag and a Debbie Downer but there’s just one more thing I want to add: I’m not really looking for the perfect guy. Or, for that fact, even looking for anyone at all. I’m not out there searching for the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. Like I wrote in my November 2010 blog (For the Love of the Game), I’m not into the whole “When’s my Prince Charming going to come?” type of thing. I may take a chance on someone to get to know them, but I’m not going to waste my time wondering if the next guy I date will be the person I end up with for the rest of my life. I want to live my life according to me and my plans. I’m not going to hold off what I want for my future just because I don’t have “Prince Charming.”
But when being with someone, here is the number one thing I do look for: Courtesy. Courtesy has always been the number one thing I wish everyone had when dating someone. I wish I could pick guys brains and find out how they could so easily ignore/forget/mistreat the women they’re dating. It’s happened to me and my friends. It happens all the time. Do they think that avoiding us is going to make the problem go away? It’s only going to make it worst!!!! I’m not saying that every guy out there is like that; however, it is the common thing among jerks like them.
And even though I’ve cut ties with the guy in my previous post, I somehow feel like it’s not enough. I know it sounds crazy and stupid even, but I feel like I’m seeking some sort of validation that he’s sorry for everything. I find it hard not to think of him everyday still, but then again it’s only been about three weeks. And I am much better today than I was the first night so I know I’ll eventually stop thinking of him completely. I just wish it was here sooner.
A big part of me wishes none of it ever happened because he didn’t have the one thing I looked for in someone, which of course is courtesy. He never had any courtesy for me and I can’t believe how much I even cared about him after noticing it at the very beginning. Courtesy for someone could save a lot of tears and a lot of heartache. Why would you want to be the source of that causing it for someone else? But because of the person I know he is, I don’t want to fully regret him. Instead, I wish I could just know him. But after what we went through, he’ll always be associated with how he broke my heart and made me cry all the time. If he had just been honest with me and had the courtesy to tell me everything from the very beginning, then it wouldn’t have to come to the end that it did.
But I march on. I march on to the beat of my own piano notes. You thought I was going to say drum, right?!! Haha!! If you really knew me, you would know I’d change that cliché line about that stupid drum haha!! Thanks for reading :o)
It sucks. It’s strange the things we humans feel when going through heartbreak. It’s not easy. You feel so small like everything in your little world is blurred spinning around you while the only thing in focus is you and your slow misery of pain. A perfect way to describe it for me would be as if I was inside the center of a tornado; in the middle of its’ core where everything is absolutely still and the chaos is spinning all around you. Everything you see/hear/touch/do is completely chaos and you’re sitting right in the middle of it watching everything around you fall apart. Well, this is what it’s like for me at least.
I don’t usually talk/write about personal stuff like this but when something consumes and overwhelms me, I feel that by me writing about it, it becomes my own therapeutic outlet to move past it and let go. So here I go…….
I’m going to tell you about someone I’ve known for almost two years. His name will remain anonymous for the sake of his privacy. No one in my life really knows too much of him, except a couple of close friends who’ve I’ve talked about him with. I’m not going to tell the whole story because I still want to keep most of it private; but only include the bits and pieces that led to the decision I made this past Tuesday night. And before you wonder to yourself "Why write about him?" here’s my explanation: He has taken up a good chunk of my life and he’ll be a part of my history. This blog is my history. Someone doesn’t just hang around in your life for almost two years and be completely forgotten about. I know when I’m older I’ll be thinking "Oh yea, I remember him. I wonder how he’s doing" and just let go of that thought as I’ve done with other people I no longer keep in contact with today. I’m not trying to pull a Kelly Summers, the woman who youtubed her entire broken heart until she was finally over her ex. That’s not the case here. Not to sound cliché, but this chapter is over and done with at the end of this blog.
I met him in the summer of 2009 and as cliché (again) as it may sound, I felt an instant connection to him. From the moment we met, it felt like he was saying all the right things to win me over. I have always been very cautions when it comes to dating, as those who have lived with me know, because I never want to be taken advantaged of, used, hurt, manipulated, etc. The list goes on and on. But I had decided that since he was being what I thought was genuine with me, then I’ll be genuine with him. I thought maybe this guy was worth the risk. So I jumped.
I remember being in bliss that summer. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. We had many things in common and our conversations were endless it seemed. I would even go over my limit on text messages on my cell phone all the time from texting so much, which I had to cool down on quickly because my work pays for it and I didn’t want to add any additional fees. But the bliss was short-lived. A few months after we met, right before that New Year’s Eve, he sent me a text message telling me he had been dating someone else for a while and wanted to see how it goes with her. Five days before that text message he asked me when we were going to get together again. I thought, well she must be something else to drop me so quickly and go to her in those five days. He asked if we could still be friends and I nonchalantly agreed, said it was fine, and wished them the best. That day I cried all day at work and well into the night. There was nothing I could do. But with time, I got over him.
The next year and a half was all but the same repetitive pattern with him. It’d start by a simple email or a text saying hello and he’d be right back in my life. We would carry on as if nothing ever happened. Each time he’d disappear from my life, I’d be just as heartbroken and each time we started talking again, I’d be just as stupid to let him back in. I never told him how much he hurt me each time he did that. Every time he would say "Sorry for being out of touch I’ve been so busy" I would respond "Oh it’s ok. I understand." But the truth was that I didn’t understand. I hated that he would come back into my life, make me feel like I’m flying high in the sky because of everything he tells me, and then totally disappear for weeks. There were times where it was so good that it felt never ending. And I would ask myself how does such an unbelievably strong feeling for someone just stop the next day? Does he get bored? How do I keep him from changing the way he felt about me yesterday? Because I truly believed he was honest and genuine about the way he felt about me. I don’t play these dating games and it honestly felt like I was in one. I even tried ignoring him once and he continuously tried to get a hold of me. I’m not going to lie, I liked the little power I had knowing that maybe he felt what I felt every time he disappeared on me. I would think "Oh you’re worried? Good! Maybe now you know how it feels!!" But like the fool that I was, I gave in.
I was always afraid of telling him how much I hated it when he would disappear on me. When I say disappear, I mean no calls, no texts, no emails, etc. instantly. And I hated every minute of it. I finally got fed up with it after the last time we saw each other he disappeared again. Not right away, but a couple weeks afterwards. I wanted to confront him. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to yell it to his face "Make up your fucking mind about me!!" I wanted to call him so he could hear my voice. I wanted him to hear how fragile it sounded and how un-composed it would sound if I were to try to talk to him feeling the way I felt. But instead I wrote the longest email I’ve probably ever written in my life. But just like most guys like him, he had an explanation for everything. Same excuses from before. And they always felt so sugar-coated so that I wouldn’t be so upset over it. After that email, I thought that was going to be the last of us and I was ok with it.
Almost three months had gone by since that exchange of emails. And still I thought about him a lot. Probably everyday. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I emailed him again. I wanted to know how he was doing and to apologize for that last email I sent him. This was around the end of February of this year. I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t sure if he was going to respond, but he did. After a few "I’m sorry" exchanges we picked right back up like before. And just like before, he was gone.
If I could summarize a dialogue between us in the time we have known each other, it would seriously go something like this: Him – "I want to be with you" Me – "I want to be with you too." Him – "I want to be with you, just not right now. But can we be friends?" Me – " Sure." Him – "I want to be with you" Me – "I want to be with you too." Him – "I want to be with you, just not right now. But can we be friends?" Me – " Sure." etc. I feel that with him asking me to still be in his life and be his friend it’s like asking me to be an option for him. I don’t want to be anyone’s option. I want to be someone’s priority. He never gave me the chance to fall in love him, but I think if he did, then maybe I could have. One time when everything was going really good I even felt like saying it to him, but I was afraid of what he might think if I did. I feel like he kept me at an arm’s reach just so he can have me whenever he felt like it; meanwhile I’m patiently waiting for him to commit to me. But he never did and I got tired of waiting.
We were having our usual conversation last Tuesday when something in me just told me to stop. Tears were beginning to form in my eyes when I realized this is as far as it’s going to get with him. I knew at that moment that if he really and honestly wanted me in his life, he would have done something to keep me in his life everyday and not just periodically. So as nervous as I was and as much as it hurt, I cut all ties with him. Deleted his emails, text messages, and phone number and told him I just needed to stop and not have him in my life anymore. He asked for me to think about still being a part of his life and I refused. I refused because it’ll just remind me of everything. I wish I could stay in his life as a friend if not at all, but my heart hurts too much to do that. If he could just feel one single ounce of my heartbreak, maybe he would really understand why I can’t be his friend.
Needless to say Tuesday night was the worst night. I've never felt more pathetic in my life. Laying on my bed in the dark with just the sound of my fan circulating the air in the room. Crying my eyes out all night letting my pillow catch every tear wondering what he’s doing or if he even feels any remorse for anything. On repeat I was listening to Adele and Etta James sing the lyrics of my life to this guy I was always so hopeful for. I’m not this type of person to be so consumed and overwhelmed by a guy. I always go by my rule of "If he doesn’t want me, then on to the next" but I couldn’t do that with him. I couldn't because he always kept pulling me back in. There’s just something different about him. I just hope I don’t spend too much time thinking about him and trying to get over him all the while he isn’t even thinking about me. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see. I wish he could feel what I feel. I wish he could understand. I wish he knew what it’s like for me.
But not all time and emotion was wasted. I've actually written poems inspired from all of this. I’ve posted them on here before. The first one is titled "Waves" which I feel depicts what I went through with him. The other one is titled "Yearn". I've never explained where I got the idea to write both of them, so now you know. Heartbreak is a funny thing isn’t it? In a dark hour you can create art. I’ve been single most of my life and hardly think about or feel lonely because I don’t depend on someone for my happiness. My happiness comes within me and the love I have for friends and family and life itself. But it isn’t until after heartbreak of this kind that makes me feel lonely. I think it's because that space in your soul where you held a special person in is suddenly emptied and there's nothing to fill that space when it's gone. Right now that space in me is empty. But I'll come back. I’ll be back to myself again. Soon. Thanks for reading.
sabes. I’ve got mi familia, amigos, and puros bendiciones que no me falta nada. Pues aves en cuando nesecito dinero, but you know how that goes.
