I've been home sick the last few days. I came home Monday afternoon from work and felt somethin' abrewin' and sure enough-- had a fever by 7pm, with my nose completely congested by the time I woke up the next morning. It's some kind of Upper Respiratory Infection that I probably picked up from working in a clinic on Skid Row. It's mostly likely a new "bug" that I picked up because I can't remember the last time I've had to stay home sick for such an extended period of time. It was weird because I would spike a fever around the same time every night. I guess the viruses in my body decided that 5:30 in the evening was the best time to have their block party. I'm praying that this isn't the case tonight because (a) my boyfriend and my best friend are coming over for dinner and (b) I do want to eventually go back to work...
I didn't intend to blog about my illness, however. I wanted to blog about God working amidst it all.
The interesting thing about all of this is that this week was dedicated to fasting. The church that I've been going to for the last few Sundays implemented a church-wide fast, to pray and ask God for direction in our lives as individuals and in the lives of those in leadership at church. Since I work a fast-paced, on-the-go, nursing job at a clinic where anything can happen... I knew I couldn't completely fast from food, but I felt like the Holy Spirit was nudging me to fast from other things that I turn to or find comfort in instead of sitting with God in my discomfort. These things include, TV (including shows I watch online), movies, comfort food (like Thai food, fried chicken and Sun Chips), coffee (I'm an addict in denial), facebook and music.
I knew deep down that there have been some things that I haven't allowed myself to process since I've moved to Burbank. With a new season in life--a new job as a new nurse, a new surrounding, a new church, a new boyfriend--comes a lot of processing. And I was keeping myself busy, or inundated with external noise. I knew that I felt kind of disconnected to myself and to God, but I wasn't really making the effort either to do anything about it.
God's timing is perfect, however, in that the week I decide to fast from external noise, I also have to stay home. Sick. No tv. No facebook. No movies. No music. Just me, my Bible and my thoughts. Oh and Jesus, of course. He is bringing up a lot of things, things that I feel would take up a whole nother blog post to explain...but in these things, I see how he wants to heal my brokenness and bind my wounds (Psalm 147:3).
Part of my frustration is that I thought I was all "fixed." That I didn't have to worry about any of those past hurts, etc. But I do see that God wants to fully restore me--even though it will take a lot more time than I originally planned. Haha. It's a place of vulnerability that I am hesitant and naturally unwilling to sit in. I do have hope, however, because God is predictably good. And in my life, He's only proved His faithfulness, love and power...time and time again.
Furthermore, I found great encouragement in Habakkuk this week. I learned this week that the main theme in Habakkuk is how God uses a wicked nation (Babylon) for his divine purpose. This is of course in reference to God using Babylon to punish Assyria and Judah. And amidst this dark time, the words that God speaks to Habakkuk are the following: "...For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end--it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay. Behold, his soul is puffed up; it is not upright within him, but the righteous shall live by faith." (Habakkuk 2:3-4).
In that time, those who were followers of God, who were caught up in the ugliness of war and all that comes with such a horrible thing, were urged to live by faith. They had no other choice. Without faith, they would lose hope. They didn't know what was going to happen, they had to trust that God is a good God. The righteous must choose to remember how God has proven Himself to them, most especially during a time when things didn't make sense.
This is applicable in many ways for many people. We all go through hardships and dark times and in those times, we must live by faith. We must live and trust God's goodness in the day to day, since we are essentially blind to what the future may hold. Even when negativity and self-pity, bitterness and discontent are constant companions, we must choose to see beyond them and think about what it means to live by faith, to trust that God is all knowing and faithful, that He is predictably good, that He loves us, that He is patient and compassionate and kind, that His plans (and His timing) are perfect.
Amen? Amen.
13.10.11
23.6.11
More thoughts on self-disclosure...
I think public self-disclosure can be looked at as either glass half-empty or glass half-full...
I've been contemplating for some time now if it's necessarily a "bad" or "unwise" thing to be so open about my personal experiences in walking this life of faith. I admit that my propensity to share what is going on in my life is an ineffable sort of inclination. I honestly feel that I have to share, that it's somehow knitted very strategically into the person that God has made me to be.
In some circles, self-disclosure is totally and completely accepted, or at least, not as abhored or viewed as distasteful. However, I do think that most well-meaning Christians are socialized to view it as a foolish thing. That emotions are to be disregarded and thrown out, or dumped out, like waste-products, instead of looking at them, sharing them, trying to see where they come from. Then again, most well-meaning Christians don't value the process of self-examination and will go to great lengths to avoid looking at their sin issues in a more microscopic and meaningful way. Not to completely digress, but in regards to the process of self-examination, I think overgeneralizing sin and our struggles as human beings--and not giving respect to the roots and causes of our specific struggles--is actually a clever and unintentional way, Christians have used to avoid themselves, or the uglyness of who they really are. How can we truly appreciate the cross of Christ and what He died for, if we don't truly see who He actually died for? I feel like we only tap the surface sometimes because we're afraid of what we might see. It's understandable. The Bible does say that we are depraved beings.
Anyway. I do see the pitfalls of public self-disclosure. There is a degree of oversharing that is, in fact, weird. But does it deserve judgment? No, I don't think so. Do people who overshare want attention? Yeah. But like everything else that we do, there is an underlying reason for why we do what we do. People who share want to be seen, which I believe is a basic human need. Who doesn't want to be noticed and given affirmation for who they are? Christians seek out God and we want to be seen by Him. It's not wrong to want that or acknowledge that it is a need. We are children of a most High God and like children, we want to be seen. Even Hagar acknowledges this in Genesis 16:13, as she sat in the desert, because a jealous Sarah ran her out of her house--for having the audacity to actually get pregnant with Abraham's child (though it was Sarah's idea to have them sleep together in the first place). But God meets Hagar in the wilderness, amidst her pain and troubles and blesses her. And her response is so beautiful, "You are a God of seeing,' for she said, 'Truly here I have seen him who looks after me."
Ok, I digressed again. Sorry. So yes, people who view self-disclosure as a way to only get attention and affirmation from others aren't completely off base. But again, I don't think it's necessarily wrong. And I think that some people may judge self-disclosure because they themselves don't understand it. We reject what we don't understand. On the other hand, people who refuse to share their personal stories and their emotions have their own underlying reasons for keeping it to themselves. Maybe it's fear. Fear of judgment. Fear of rejection. Or maybe it's pride. A refusal to show weakness, or admit weakness. Or maybe it's ignorance. Some may be completely unaware of their own crap, so they have nothing to share. I think it's important to know why we share or don't share because I believe the way that people share with others directly affect how they share their lives with God. And He of all people deserves our transparency...
Clearly, I am biased towards a more transparent way of living. Again, part of me feels like I just can't help it, sometimes. I see how God is moving and working in my life and I don't think He wants me to just keep it to myself. There are times that I share because I seek solace in the company of others, the comfort of people who care and love me. When it's a more generalized audience, I think I share because I want people to know that they are not alone in their struggle and in a way, I think I am seeking affirmation for myself that I'm not alone, either.
Whatever the case may be, I sincerely believe that there is more eternal value in being sincere and transparent with others, than not. Not that it's easy. Because it's not.
Toodles.
I've been contemplating for some time now if it's necessarily a "bad" or "unwise" thing to be so open about my personal experiences in walking this life of faith. I admit that my propensity to share what is going on in my life is an ineffable sort of inclination. I honestly feel that I have to share, that it's somehow knitted very strategically into the person that God has made me to be.
In some circles, self-disclosure is totally and completely accepted, or at least, not as abhored or viewed as distasteful. However, I do think that most well-meaning Christians are socialized to view it as a foolish thing. That emotions are to be disregarded and thrown out, or dumped out, like waste-products, instead of looking at them, sharing them, trying to see where they come from. Then again, most well-meaning Christians don't value the process of self-examination and will go to great lengths to avoid looking at their sin issues in a more microscopic and meaningful way. Not to completely digress, but in regards to the process of self-examination, I think overgeneralizing sin and our struggles as human beings--and not giving respect to the roots and causes of our specific struggles--is actually a clever and unintentional way, Christians have used to avoid themselves, or the uglyness of who they really are. How can we truly appreciate the cross of Christ and what He died for, if we don't truly see who He actually died for? I feel like we only tap the surface sometimes because we're afraid of what we might see. It's understandable. The Bible does say that we are depraved beings.
Anyway. I do see the pitfalls of public self-disclosure. There is a degree of oversharing that is, in fact, weird. But does it deserve judgment? No, I don't think so. Do people who overshare want attention? Yeah. But like everything else that we do, there is an underlying reason for why we do what we do. People who share want to be seen, which I believe is a basic human need. Who doesn't want to be noticed and given affirmation for who they are? Christians seek out God and we want to be seen by Him. It's not wrong to want that or acknowledge that it is a need. We are children of a most High God and like children, we want to be seen. Even Hagar acknowledges this in Genesis 16:13, as she sat in the desert, because a jealous Sarah ran her out of her house--for having the audacity to actually get pregnant with Abraham's child (though it was Sarah's idea to have them sleep together in the first place). But God meets Hagar in the wilderness, amidst her pain and troubles and blesses her. And her response is so beautiful, "You are a God of seeing,' for she said, 'Truly here I have seen him who looks after me."
Ok, I digressed again. Sorry. So yes, people who view self-disclosure as a way to only get attention and affirmation from others aren't completely off base. But again, I don't think it's necessarily wrong. And I think that some people may judge self-disclosure because they themselves don't understand it. We reject what we don't understand. On the other hand, people who refuse to share their personal stories and their emotions have their own underlying reasons for keeping it to themselves. Maybe it's fear. Fear of judgment. Fear of rejection. Or maybe it's pride. A refusal to show weakness, or admit weakness. Or maybe it's ignorance. Some may be completely unaware of their own crap, so they have nothing to share. I think it's important to know why we share or don't share because I believe the way that people share with others directly affect how they share their lives with God. And He of all people deserves our transparency...
Clearly, I am biased towards a more transparent way of living. Again, part of me feels like I just can't help it, sometimes. I see how God is moving and working in my life and I don't think He wants me to just keep it to myself. There are times that I share because I seek solace in the company of others, the comfort of people who care and love me. When it's a more generalized audience, I think I share because I want people to know that they are not alone in their struggle and in a way, I think I am seeking affirmation for myself that I'm not alone, either.
Whatever the case may be, I sincerely believe that there is more eternal value in being sincere and transparent with others, than not. Not that it's easy. Because it's not.
Toodles.
17.6.11
9.6.11
What am I doing?
I don't mean to pose that question in a negative light. I really am kind of wondering what is happening in my life right now. It's a kind of wondering that involves meandering, thoughtful, consideration of the past couple of weeks and what I've been doing with my time. Other than studying for the NCLEX--the biggest test of my life--I've mostly been hanging out with friends, soaking up the bit of time left that we have here together, taking advantage of the fact that we are still around the area and most importantly-- we don't really have actual responsibilities (i.e mortgage, marriages, car payments, children, etc.)
I am kind of amused at how easy things seem to be going right now. I wake up, study throughout the day, go to random exercise classes at the local 24 hr fitness (Zumba is my new favorite activity), or hang out with friends and watch movies (or play guitar hero), or play intense games of... Fishbowl. I'm not complaining. This is NIIIIIIIICE. I'm even bobbing my head as I say it.
Haha. I'm 26 years old, which I revealed to a new friend of mine who apparently thought I was 22 or 23. This came up because he asked me when I would want to get married--I didn't think anything of it, mostly because he seems like the kind of "dude" that just asks questions (plus, he's happily girlfriended). I realized I was kind of disappointed that I had to admit how old I actually was. I think I wanted him to keep thinking I was younger.
I guess hanging out with people who are a few years younger than me would make me slightly self-conscious about the fact that I'm 26. But it really shouldn't.
This is all correlated in someway...it's one big train of thought. I think me being 26 and still kind of living the life of a "youngin" makes me wonder if I should be doing something more.... "mature." I don't know. Maybe I should just be thankful with where I'm at. And I am. I also believe that I am exactly where God wants me... so who cares what sort of internal judgment I'm projecting onto this situation right now?
What do most 26 year olds do, anyway?
Bah. Well, who cares. I am enjoying myself and living life in a new way. I feel really free. And I'm excited for what's coming in these next few months...in the next year! At the same time, I'm enjoying each day as it comes, too. I have a feeling I should soak up this season of my life. Take it for what it is.
I am kind of amused at how easy things seem to be going right now. I wake up, study throughout the day, go to random exercise classes at the local 24 hr fitness (Zumba is my new favorite activity), or hang out with friends and watch movies (or play guitar hero), or play intense games of... Fishbowl. I'm not complaining. This is NIIIIIIIICE. I'm even bobbing my head as I say it.
Haha. I'm 26 years old, which I revealed to a new friend of mine who apparently thought I was 22 or 23. This came up because he asked me when I would want to get married--I didn't think anything of it, mostly because he seems like the kind of "dude" that just asks questions (plus, he's happily girlfriended). I realized I was kind of disappointed that I had to admit how old I actually was. I think I wanted him to keep thinking I was younger.
I guess hanging out with people who are a few years younger than me would make me slightly self-conscious about the fact that I'm 26. But it really shouldn't.
This is all correlated in someway...it's one big train of thought. I think me being 26 and still kind of living the life of a "youngin" makes me wonder if I should be doing something more.... "mature." I don't know. Maybe I should just be thankful with where I'm at. And I am. I also believe that I am exactly where God wants me... so who cares what sort of internal judgment I'm projecting onto this situation right now?
What do most 26 year olds do, anyway?
Bah. Well, who cares. I am enjoying myself and living life in a new way. I feel really free. And I'm excited for what's coming in these next few months...in the next year! At the same time, I'm enjoying each day as it comes, too. I have a feeling I should soak up this season of my life. Take it for what it is.
7.6.11
After the Fact...
I am a college graduate.
It's been a long time coming for me--maybe that's why the post-college feeling is all the more sweeter, smoother even. I feel very blessed--especially because I have a job. A job that I am ecstatic and giddy about. If you had told me a few months ago that I would have a job right out of school, I would've laughed very obnoxiously in your face. My expectations were very low, mostly because those kinds of things don't really happen to me. If you've read my blog over the last few months (or years), it's pretty evident that I have been dealing with a lot of disappointments and discouragements--from either external situations or my own internal experience. So, why would I expect anything else? This isn't meant to sound depressing or hopeless--I think my low expectations were equal parts humility and acceptance of my low estate, with maybe a mild tinge of self-pity.
Anyways, I think I really had reached a point of honest to goodness humility...and surrender. God had brought me to that place and I wasn't going to fight him anymore. Don't get me wrong--it's a good place to be, but it did take quite a bit to get me here. However, I still came up with some semblance of a plan--because I'm a woman and a woman who likes to plan things. I called it PLAN B and it entailed going to bartending school and working at a bar in downtown Fullerton and maybe nannying, too. I was even thinking about revisiting my days as a barista and planned to work at starbucks or any coffee shop that would employ a person with a Bachelor's of Science in Nursing. All I knew was I wanted to be with people and talk to people, to be in the world and not of it, to be in ministry through relationships with people who are different from me, to love them as Jesus did... to love them as Jesus as has taught me to do.
But God still blessed me with a job that I would've given my left arm for. Ok, that's a slight exaggeration. I probably wouldn't have torn out a limb to work at a clinic on Skid Row, but I remember despising the thought of working at some adult medical-surgical floor just for experience--but I was going to buck up and do it if I got hired at a hospital. However, God saw my heart and what I desired to do with my life and He is gracious enough to give me the opportunity to work with homeless people in downtown L.A... as a nurse.
Oh man, there's still so much to say. Because...God not only blessed me with a job, but also brought reconciliation in my life. He has taught me what true forgiveness is and what it means to entrust this process to Him. Things with my family had been the brunt of my spiritual and emotional distress and I didn't even think we would be whole come graduation time. But the goodness of God prevailed. I doubted His goodness and His love and may I never do it again--at least not anytime soon.
Over the years, I had become wary of saying "Glory to God," because I came from a background where those three words were dropped like it's hot. But they were empty words, without meaning, without real understanding, without real substantial and heartfelt belief.
But today, I can say it. GLORY TO GOD. Those three words hold the last 5 years of my life, the ups and the downs--mostly downs-- the trials and the heartaches, the blessings of new realizations, the struggle in wrestling with God amidst the pain and most importantly--real and honest surrender, a willingness to let go of control of my life because God has proven His sovereignty, care, love and provision.
I pray that I will carry and hold true to this very important lesson in my life as I move on to a new chapter...
25.5.11
Acceptance.
I spent Monday and part of Tuesday up in Idyllwild, CA. I had never gone on a solo retreat before--I guess I never saw the need for it. But in light of recent events and ever growing burden on my weary heart, I knew I needed to go.
It was a gorgeous house on top of the mountain, surrounded by nature and I had it all to myself. The owners, a couple who heard God call them to build this retreat center, really provided a place of safety, comfort and peace. It's a place dedicated for weary travelers to find their center once again in Jesus.
I had never been happier than when I was sitting alone in that huge house by myself. There was silence and the grandiose view of mountains and towering pine trees. I even went on a hike to a place called "Inspiration Point." And I sat there for hours just reflecting on my life, amidst nature, and connecting with God in a way that I hadn't in a long time.
It was there on the mountain top that I was able to see clearly all the burdens that I had been carrying: anger, resentment, holding on to a sense of control and not wanting to let go of it, most importantly--an unwillingness to accept my life and all the pain and hardship that I have endured and my personal struggles that I battle with on a day to day basis. I wrestled with the thought that I merely had to accept the pain, when pain is, well, so painful. What would that acceptance mean? Would that mean that I would allow myself to sit in that pain? Does that mean I can't always expect God to do something about it? Does that mean accepting that God may never do anything about it?
It was good to get away, to think, to process. But as soon as I came back down from the mountain--I saw that life didn't change. I wasn't really expecting it to. It's still hard and I still have my issues. However, it's like my pain had never been quite so blatantly exposed in front of me. The difference is, though I wrestled with it for a while last night, I woke up tired and humbled this morning. I need to accept my life and my pain. And I think I am doing that as I sit here blogging about it. I woke up this morning and called to mind truth that God is in it with me, working in me and bringing me to a place where I will see that it is worth it. I don't know when that will be but I'm not trying to put a limit on it anymore.
The paradoxical nature of acceptance is letting go of my need to get away from pain in order to bring God in. Trusting in God then means that I'm not simply sitting here, but digging deeply into the root of my pain and working through it to find healing.
With all that to say, I accept my life. I accept my humility. I accept that restoration may happen, or may it not happen the way I want it to. I accept that restoration may mean something completely unexpected. I accept the unexpected. I accept my pain and the sadness that comes with it from time to time. I accept the not-so-ideals, the unfulfilled desires, the blessings in disguises, and the waiting. I accept myself and who God has made me to be, even the parts that seem less desirable to others--especially to myself-- the parts that God is currently renewing and restoring. I accept that God is good amidst the pain, that He is present whether or not I acknowledge it.
I accept it all.
It was a gorgeous house on top of the mountain, surrounded by nature and I had it all to myself. The owners, a couple who heard God call them to build this retreat center, really provided a place of safety, comfort and peace. It's a place dedicated for weary travelers to find their center once again in Jesus.
I had never been happier than when I was sitting alone in that huge house by myself. There was silence and the grandiose view of mountains and towering pine trees. I even went on a hike to a place called "Inspiration Point." And I sat there for hours just reflecting on my life, amidst nature, and connecting with God in a way that I hadn't in a long time.
It was there on the mountain top that I was able to see clearly all the burdens that I had been carrying: anger, resentment, holding on to a sense of control and not wanting to let go of it, most importantly--an unwillingness to accept my life and all the pain and hardship that I have endured and my personal struggles that I battle with on a day to day basis. I wrestled with the thought that I merely had to accept the pain, when pain is, well, so painful. What would that acceptance mean? Would that mean that I would allow myself to sit in that pain? Does that mean I can't always expect God to do something about it? Does that mean accepting that God may never do anything about it?
It was good to get away, to think, to process. But as soon as I came back down from the mountain--I saw that life didn't change. I wasn't really expecting it to. It's still hard and I still have my issues. However, it's like my pain had never been quite so blatantly exposed in front of me. The difference is, though I wrestled with it for a while last night, I woke up tired and humbled this morning. I need to accept my life and my pain. And I think I am doing that as I sit here blogging about it. I woke up this morning and called to mind truth that God is in it with me, working in me and bringing me to a place where I will see that it is worth it. I don't know when that will be but I'm not trying to put a limit on it anymore.
The paradoxical nature of acceptance is letting go of my need to get away from pain in order to bring God in. Trusting in God then means that I'm not simply sitting here, but digging deeply into the root of my pain and working through it to find healing.
With all that to say, I accept my life. I accept my humility. I accept that restoration may happen, or may it not happen the way I want it to. I accept that restoration may mean something completely unexpected. I accept the unexpected. I accept my pain and the sadness that comes with it from time to time. I accept the not-so-ideals, the unfulfilled desires, the blessings in disguises, and the waiting. I accept myself and who God has made me to be, even the parts that seem less desirable to others--especially to myself-- the parts that God is currently renewing and restoring. I accept that God is good amidst the pain, that He is present whether or not I acknowledge it.
I accept it all.
12.4.11
It is good.
Today, I sat outside a cafe in downtown Fullerton. I sat on a paisley cushion atop a white wicker chair, taking in the eclectic outdoor patio decoration at Cafe Veronese. I lazily sipped on coffee, in between bites of a decadent chocolate cake. I let my eyes feast on the vines that grew along the fence, and I giggled softly because I loved the sight of yellow flowers speckled throughout. I listened to the fountain and let the sound of the water coax me into a more peaceful mood. The sun gleamed softly, its warm light reflected by the white tiled table top, touched my face like a gentle kiss. A gentle and cool breeze caressed my hair and the edges of my mustard yellow skirt. The sky was clear and the clouds were like cotton balls, arranged messily in groups of threes and fours.
As I sat there, I marveled at my inner peace. I felt genuinely thankful for life and that I could enjoy the little things. That things like yellow flowers, chocolate cake and 74 degree weather still makes a substantial impact on my soul.
The last 8 weeks or so have been, well--for lack of a better term--a doozy. If you had told me that by week 10, I would be so relaxed and so peaceful, that I would be stuffing my face full of cake, I probably wouldn't have believed you. I might even have told you that you were effing crazy.
I guess it just goes to show that I am still one of little faith. Well, it's a growing faith. It's still quite miniscule. But, I do see it growing stronger. Getting bigger. More bold. Less afraid. And this peace that comes with it is most definitely a gift of grace, from God, who I am convinced today loves and cares about His people. That He loves and cares about me.
It's not like I did anything extra special either. Neither has much of my external situations changed--other than the fact that I'm mostly done with school projects/presentations. There are still quite a few aspects in my life that are less than ideal.
I think I realized this last Friday, that if Jesus can calm a raging storm and churning waves, if Jesus can still the mighty ocean, then His power is sufficient to bring about peace in whatever life situation I find myself in. It's so good to see His power and His work within me. Especially because I have not held back from showing Him/telling Him about what I truly think and feel about the crap that has happened. I feel like I really, truly wrestled with all that has been going on. Being honest with myself and with other people. It certainly has not been easy.
As I sat there and ate my cake, I thanked Him for listening. I thanked Him for caring about my humanity and giving space for my emotions. I thanked Him for helping me overcome my fears and for helping me see a side of surrender that I have never seen before. I looked at where I've been and where I am now, in this place of substantial peace--I see that I have gained a better sense of what it means to trust God. It's really amazing. It's almost ineffable.
So yeah. Today is a good day. I want to enjoy it.
Lastly, I want to end with a verse that seems to make more sense to me now than it ever has before:
"For this I toil, struggling with all His energy that He powerfully works within me." [Colossians 1:29]
Toodles.
As I sat there, I marveled at my inner peace. I felt genuinely thankful for life and that I could enjoy the little things. That things like yellow flowers, chocolate cake and 74 degree weather still makes a substantial impact on my soul.
The last 8 weeks or so have been, well--for lack of a better term--a doozy. If you had told me that by week 10, I would be so relaxed and so peaceful, that I would be stuffing my face full of cake, I probably wouldn't have believed you. I might even have told you that you were effing crazy.
I guess it just goes to show that I am still one of little faith. Well, it's a growing faith. It's still quite miniscule. But, I do see it growing stronger. Getting bigger. More bold. Less afraid. And this peace that comes with it is most definitely a gift of grace, from God, who I am convinced today loves and cares about His people. That He loves and cares about me.
It's not like I did anything extra special either. Neither has much of my external situations changed--other than the fact that I'm mostly done with school projects/presentations. There are still quite a few aspects in my life that are less than ideal.
I think I realized this last Friday, that if Jesus can calm a raging storm and churning waves, if Jesus can still the mighty ocean, then His power is sufficient to bring about peace in whatever life situation I find myself in. It's so good to see His power and His work within me. Especially because I have not held back from showing Him/telling Him about what I truly think and feel about the crap that has happened. I feel like I really, truly wrestled with all that has been going on. Being honest with myself and with other people. It certainly has not been easy.
As I sat there and ate my cake, I thanked Him for listening. I thanked Him for caring about my humanity and giving space for my emotions. I thanked Him for helping me overcome my fears and for helping me see a side of surrender that I have never seen before. I looked at where I've been and where I am now, in this place of substantial peace--I see that I have gained a better sense of what it means to trust God. It's really amazing. It's almost ineffable.
So yeah. Today is a good day. I want to enjoy it.
Lastly, I want to end with a verse that seems to make more sense to me now than it ever has before:
"For this I toil, struggling with all His energy that He powerfully works within me." [Colossians 1:29]
Toodles.
30.3.11
Procrastination.
GUHHHHHHH.
I have a buttload that's due over the next few weeks. And what am I doing?
Cleaning my room. Doing Laundry. Organizing the CD's in my car. Watching "Tangled."
What should I be doing?
Academic Literature Survey (due Monday)
Calling medical agencies in Bell Gardens, CA for a community project that's due in 2 weeks
applying for nursing jobs
...among other things
I hate not being motivated just as much as I hate doing homework. I'm most definitely not someone who puts a ton of effort into homework, especially when I would rather be having fun. I often wonder how this is going to translate into day-to-day life for me. In my defense, when I really want to do something or really interested in something, it's not work for me. I hate school. I hate the busy work. I just want to be free from all this. Bring on the real world.
Ok. I'm done venting. Off to find research articles related to the ethics behind reporductive technologies so I can write a 5 page paper on it. I'm setting a goal for myself to have it done by today. So I can have a time to just chill on Sunday and enjoy my 6 hour break between classes on Monday.
Ready. Set. GO!
I have a buttload that's due over the next few weeks. And what am I doing?
Cleaning my room. Doing Laundry. Organizing the CD's in my car. Watching "Tangled."
What should I be doing?
Academic Literature Survey (due Monday)
Calling medical agencies in Bell Gardens, CA for a community project that's due in 2 weeks
applying for nursing jobs
...among other things
I hate not being motivated just as much as I hate doing homework. I'm most definitely not someone who puts a ton of effort into homework, especially when I would rather be having fun. I often wonder how this is going to translate into day-to-day life for me. In my defense, when I really want to do something or really interested in something, it's not work for me. I hate school. I hate the busy work. I just want to be free from all this. Bring on the real world.
Ok. I'm done venting. Off to find research articles related to the ethics behind reporductive technologies so I can write a 5 page paper on it. I'm setting a goal for myself to have it done by today. So I can have a time to just chill on Sunday and enjoy my 6 hour break between classes on Monday.
Ready. Set. GO!
11.3.11
My encouragement today.
"The LORD will fight for you, and you only have to be silent." [Exodus 14:14]
Sometimes, life is just overwhelming. There's only so much I can do. I see the extent of my weakness yet again. And I must and choose to believe that God cares and that He is working in ways that I can't even begin to imagine.
I truly believe that God is using that verse and this song to remind me that He cares about me in ways that I don't fully realize yet.
Sometimes, life is just overwhelming. There's only so much I can do. I see the extent of my weakness yet again. And I must and choose to believe that God cares and that He is working in ways that I can't even begin to imagine.
I truly believe that God is using that verse and this song to remind me that He cares about me in ways that I don't fully realize yet.
I have a Father
He calls me His own
He'll never leave me
No matter where I go
I have a Maker
He formed my heart
Before even time began
my life was in His hands
He knows my name
He knows my every thought
He sees each tear that falls
He hears me when I call
5.2.11
[almost there]
eyes timid and apprehensive,
pupils delighted by
luminescent hues of refreshing moments.
modest claims of change,
leaves a joyful stain on a face
with cherubic enthusiasm.
Hope--a little worse for wear,
but never out of fashion.
pupils delighted by
luminescent hues of refreshing moments.
modest claims of change,
leaves a joyful stain on a face
with cherubic enthusiasm.
Hope--a little worse for wear,
but never out of fashion.
3.2.11
re: Stacks
This song is beautiful. It's about the burdens that we all carry as human beings or the "stacks" that we accrue over the years as we wade through less than ideal situations--imperfect families, sinful predispositions, death of a loved one, or a death of a dream, unfulfilled expectations and disappointments that lead to meaningful life changes, suffering caused by our own decisions or the decisions of others. The list goes on. In the somberness and simplicity of Bon Iver's song, in his recognition of the broken, yet beautiful way that humans continue to strive with their own inherent shortcomings and the shortcomings of others, there is a haunting and freeing sound to his melody. The last verse of the song says: This is not the sound of a new man or crispy realization/It's the sound of the unlocking and the lift away/Your love will be/Safe with me. I think of Jesus. And how anything is possible in His strength. It's not that He gives us super-human strength. He gives us His reassurance, and a fresh perspective. Yet, even the supernatural strength of the Holy Spirit is immensely practical. It makes us resilient, while keeping us humble. And the beauty of resilience is the freedom that we gain from the gradual mitigation of the stacks on our backs, as we pursue emotional and spiritual growth with fervor and passion.
28.1.11
Inspiring.
I really love art and the various ways that it is expressed. Art and its expression gives life to the mundane. Photography is my favorite art form.
This is a dear friend, Angi:
and she takes pictures like these:
You can find more of her work [here]
This is a dear friend, Angi:
and she takes pictures like these:
You can find more of her work [here]
20.1.11
Reset
refresh.
restart.
renewed.
Today feels different. And I don't really know what that means because I've yet to develop an appropriate vocabulary for new experiences.
But I think this is a good thing. At least it feels like I'm one step closer to wherever I'm supposed to be.
restart.
renewed.
Today feels different. And I don't really know what that means because I've yet to develop an appropriate vocabulary for new experiences.
But I think this is a good thing. At least it feels like I'm one step closer to wherever I'm supposed to be.
13.1.11
After the Storm
This song was playing in my head when I woke up this morning, these words in particular:
There will come a time you'll see
with no more tears and love will not break your heart
but dismiss your fears
get over your hill and see
what you find there
with grace in your heart and flowers
in your hair...
12.1.11
On Sin and Digging Trenches
Since I've been on vacation and I have nothing imminent or pressing to attend to in the mornings, I find myself laying in bed, trying to unravel, or solve, life's mysteries within the first hour of my awakening.
This morning was no different.
My alarm went of at 9:00 but I was well awake before then, thinking about my life and random aspects of it. And while I was laying there thinking, the idea of sin floated through my mind. What is sin? And what ignoring sin or pretending like something isn't a sin can do for a person's soul. I pictured a determined scruffy young man, digging a trench in the country side somewhere. I don't know why he's digging this trench, but he's determined to get to something or maybe to escape from some unwelcomed unhappiness that has recently entered into his life. Somehow, in his toil and sweat, he finds satisfaction in the digging and as he gets deeper into his trench, in his mind, he's productively escaping from whatever it is that he's running from. However, as he digs deeper, he realizes that he's dug himself a hole that he can't climb out of. And he tries for sometime. But the dirt walls of this trench crumble apart as he tries to find his footing. Eventually he gives up. He sits there, at the bottom of his trench, feeling more hopeless and forgotten than he ever has before. He begins to think that death would be better than sitting alone in the darkness.
I've come to realize that living according to God's standards extends beyond the Ten Commandments (thou shalt not lie, or covet your neighbor's plasma screen, or steal it, etc). I think God gave Moses the Ten Commandments as a prototype, or model, a bullet point summary, if you will, of what God really wants out of His people--which is absolute devotion to Him. I am 99% sure that God wants me to find my happiness and joy in Him. I know that God wants me to include Him in my daily life, to be at the center of every big life changing decision, to spend most of my time thinking about Him, and to love Him more than I love anything else in this world, including my family, my significant other (if I had one), my friends and most especially, myself. And I know that He also wants me to treat other people well because He made them and thus I should respect and give worth to what He's created.
So, then, in light of all this, what is sin? The best and most sincere definition I can come up with right now is that it is an action, that begins with a thought that seeks to serve myself and causes harm to myself, my relationship with God and/or with other people. Furthermore, I think the issue of sin goes deeper, goes beyond just the act. Like the trench digger, I believe that people find themselves "in sin" when life becomes less ideal, or find that waiting on God's timing, or believing that God is good, seems pointless at a particular juncture in time. Sin begins as an impulse, when shovel first meets dirt--whether it's in rebellion or impatience, or hopelessness that leads to self-destruction.
I met a guy a couple of weeks ago at an Irish pub in Santa Barbara when I visited a friend for her birthday. He bought me a snakebite (pear cider and beer) and we proceeded to engage in a light-hearted conversation that quickly became a more deep and meaningful one. He told me that he used to recruit strippers for a local strip club, which was an interesting conversation in and of itself, but he immediately followed that by telling me that he was perpetually drunk. He asked me why I thought he was always drunk. I looked at him for a few seconds and said, "is there something about your life that you don't want to think about?" He smiled and raised his fist in air and said, "I hate my fuckin' life! It's pretty shitty. And my mind never stops thinking so I just drink till I'm happy." I told him that that made sense. People around us, raised their glasses. Of course, those who laughed and agreed with him were having a horrible week, too. One guy in particular said that his ex-girlfriend broke up with him on Christmas day and also tried to run him over with her car. He bought shots for everyone before he stumbled out of the pub to the next.
Humans, no matter how christian we are, cannot help ourselves from falling into sin, or digging our trenches. Especially, when we engage this broken world and entangle ourselves with broken people. I am not much different from those two guys I met at the bar. I get it. I know that the only thing holding me back from getting drunk off my ass is something supernatural, which is an overactive conscience, i.e. the Holy Spirit. So, that's one trench that I have yet to start digging, not to say that I haven't started several. I am an impatient, impulsive and selfish person after all. I know that sin becomes such a tantalizing option when the waiting gets too long, or when life is too overwhelming to engage or participate in, or when people are hurtful.
Sin is sin and it is the very reason why God sent Jesus Christ to die on the Cross, to pay the death penalty that sinning against God requires. And because of this great act of mercy, there is always hope for sinners like me: God's grace is the ladder that comes down into my trenches and helps me climb out of it. And His love is what welcomes me back home with a hug and warm cup of chamomille tea. Mmm.
I know that I've lived the majority of my Christian life, trying not to sin. But I've recently thrown that template for life out of the proverbial window because a human being simply cannot just NOT sin. If we could just stop, then Jesus wouldn't have had to make the ultimate sacrifice. Contrary to popular belief, becoming a Christian does not make one less human, if anything it makes one more aware of their humanity. This is not to say that Christians shouldn't try to leave our shovels in the tool shed, if you know what I mean. But that's what this whole Christianity thing is about, choosing to live for God and believe that He is good and that He loves me, instead of choosing to throw caution to the wind, to seek after things that last about as long as an impulse. It's trusting that His options are better than my options, that they promote a much more healthy outlook on life. That waking up and remembering that I have been blessed with so much is less depressing, and more productive than dwelling on how lonely I feel. That being sober is much healthier than being drunk. That waiting to have sex until I'm married will significantly decease the emotional turmoil and heartache in my life that would surely come, if I share such an intimate moment with other men. That spending time reading about Him is much more enriching for my soul than wasting the day away, intentionally avoiding it.
That life is meant to be lived intentionally seeking after and enjoying the presence of a good God, no matter our circumstance, and remembering His grace and forgiveness when we feel like our faith is small and our doubts are overpowering.
This morning was no different.
My alarm went of at 9:00 but I was well awake before then, thinking about my life and random aspects of it. And while I was laying there thinking, the idea of sin floated through my mind. What is sin? And what ignoring sin or pretending like something isn't a sin can do for a person's soul. I pictured a determined scruffy young man, digging a trench in the country side somewhere. I don't know why he's digging this trench, but he's determined to get to something or maybe to escape from some unwelcomed unhappiness that has recently entered into his life. Somehow, in his toil and sweat, he finds satisfaction in the digging and as he gets deeper into his trench, in his mind, he's productively escaping from whatever it is that he's running from. However, as he digs deeper, he realizes that he's dug himself a hole that he can't climb out of. And he tries for sometime. But the dirt walls of this trench crumble apart as he tries to find his footing. Eventually he gives up. He sits there, at the bottom of his trench, feeling more hopeless and forgotten than he ever has before. He begins to think that death would be better than sitting alone in the darkness.
I've come to realize that living according to God's standards extends beyond the Ten Commandments (thou shalt not lie, or covet your neighbor's plasma screen, or steal it, etc). I think God gave Moses the Ten Commandments as a prototype, or model, a bullet point summary, if you will, of what God really wants out of His people--which is absolute devotion to Him. I am 99% sure that God wants me to find my happiness and joy in Him. I know that God wants me to include Him in my daily life, to be at the center of every big life changing decision, to spend most of my time thinking about Him, and to love Him more than I love anything else in this world, including my family, my significant other (if I had one), my friends and most especially, myself. And I know that He also wants me to treat other people well because He made them and thus I should respect and give worth to what He's created.
So, then, in light of all this, what is sin? The best and most sincere definition I can come up with right now is that it is an action, that begins with a thought that seeks to serve myself and causes harm to myself, my relationship with God and/or with other people. Furthermore, I think the issue of sin goes deeper, goes beyond just the act. Like the trench digger, I believe that people find themselves "in sin" when life becomes less ideal, or find that waiting on God's timing, or believing that God is good, seems pointless at a particular juncture in time. Sin begins as an impulse, when shovel first meets dirt--whether it's in rebellion or impatience, or hopelessness that leads to self-destruction.
I met a guy a couple of weeks ago at an Irish pub in Santa Barbara when I visited a friend for her birthday. He bought me a snakebite (pear cider and beer) and we proceeded to engage in a light-hearted conversation that quickly became a more deep and meaningful one. He told me that he used to recruit strippers for a local strip club, which was an interesting conversation in and of itself, but he immediately followed that by telling me that he was perpetually drunk. He asked me why I thought he was always drunk. I looked at him for a few seconds and said, "is there something about your life that you don't want to think about?" He smiled and raised his fist in air and said, "I hate my fuckin' life! It's pretty shitty. And my mind never stops thinking so I just drink till I'm happy." I told him that that made sense. People around us, raised their glasses. Of course, those who laughed and agreed with him were having a horrible week, too. One guy in particular said that his ex-girlfriend broke up with him on Christmas day and also tried to run him over with her car. He bought shots for everyone before he stumbled out of the pub to the next.
Humans, no matter how christian we are, cannot help ourselves from falling into sin, or digging our trenches. Especially, when we engage this broken world and entangle ourselves with broken people. I am not much different from those two guys I met at the bar. I get it. I know that the only thing holding me back from getting drunk off my ass is something supernatural, which is an overactive conscience, i.e. the Holy Spirit. So, that's one trench that I have yet to start digging, not to say that I haven't started several. I am an impatient, impulsive and selfish person after all. I know that sin becomes such a tantalizing option when the waiting gets too long, or when life is too overwhelming to engage or participate in, or when people are hurtful.
Sin is sin and it is the very reason why God sent Jesus Christ to die on the Cross, to pay the death penalty that sinning against God requires. And because of this great act of mercy, there is always hope for sinners like me: God's grace is the ladder that comes down into my trenches and helps me climb out of it. And His love is what welcomes me back home with a hug and warm cup of chamomille tea. Mmm.
I know that I've lived the majority of my Christian life, trying not to sin. But I've recently thrown that template for life out of the proverbial window because a human being simply cannot just NOT sin. If we could just stop, then Jesus wouldn't have had to make the ultimate sacrifice. Contrary to popular belief, becoming a Christian does not make one less human, if anything it makes one more aware of their humanity. This is not to say that Christians shouldn't try to leave our shovels in the tool shed, if you know what I mean. But that's what this whole Christianity thing is about, choosing to live for God and believe that He is good and that He loves me, instead of choosing to throw caution to the wind, to seek after things that last about as long as an impulse. It's trusting that His options are better than my options, that they promote a much more healthy outlook on life. That waking up and remembering that I have been blessed with so much is less depressing, and more productive than dwelling on how lonely I feel. That being sober is much healthier than being drunk. That waiting to have sex until I'm married will significantly decease the emotional turmoil and heartache in my life that would surely come, if I share such an intimate moment with other men. That spending time reading about Him is much more enriching for my soul than wasting the day away, intentionally avoiding it.
That life is meant to be lived intentionally seeking after and enjoying the presence of a good God, no matter our circumstance, and remembering His grace and forgiveness when we feel like our faith is small and our doubts are overpowering.
9.1.11
Unravel
a soul can be a never-ending
line of knots and twisted things
formed into a noose,
to threaten the livelihood of one
man's being
a soul may never know
the wide open spaces
it was meant to roam,
falling into the depths
of fear,
before it can make its way home
a soul may never know
fully the vastness of its Creator,
as it fashions for itself
rules and regulations,
subjecting itself to
shallow externalizations
a soul is meant to seek its
Master, unhinged and unhindered
from the threats of the former
misgivings and
misconstructions,
lies and contradictions,
unexamined proclamations,
of truths without contemplation,
of the implication
of truth's real meaning.
a soul is meant to be meaningful,
and full of life,
a reflection of the One,
who breathes life
into being.
line of knots and twisted things
formed into a noose,
to threaten the livelihood of one
man's being
a soul may never know
the wide open spaces
it was meant to roam,
falling into the depths
of fear,
before it can make its way home
a soul may never know
fully the vastness of its Creator,
as it fashions for itself
rules and regulations,
subjecting itself to
shallow externalizations
a soul is meant to seek its
Master, unhinged and unhindered
from the threats of the former
misgivings and
misconstructions,
lies and contradictions,
unexamined proclamations,
of truths without contemplation,
of the implication
of truth's real meaning.
a soul is meant to be meaningful,
and full of life,
a reflection of the One,
who breathes life
into being.
8.1.11
The One Where Kendra locks herself outside.
There are some days that are just more eventful/funny than others:
My roommate and good friend, Kendra feel that our lives, separately and together would make for good tv sitcom material. Our tv sitcom would be called: Our Neighbor, Luigi-- In honor of our eccentric and endearing neighbor, who is 45 years old, lives with an asian man (no relations) and his mother, who frequently leaves the house to walk her poodle (dyed pink, of course), with her hair in rollers, and a cigarette hanging loosely on the corner of her mouth.
Anyway, this morning, Kendra had a friend come over for breakfast. And being a nice friend that she is, she decided to walk her friend out to her car, unbeknownst to her at the time that she, out of force of habit, had locked the door as she closed it. Kendra realized her dilemma when she attempted to let herself in. She wasn't too worried, though, because she knew that her trusty roommate, Linell, would hear the doorbell/ knocking and let her back in shortly.
And in true sitcom fashion, where timing is everything, this is about the time that I decide to take a shower. While I was in the bathroom, I heard the distant clinging of bells, but since I didn't realize that we had a doorbell--how I missed this, I am not sure--I thought that I was just hearing things. I had been taking a lot of aspirin lately for pain, so I thought I developed a case of tinnitus and made a mental note to quit my pill-poppin.'
So, while I was showering, Kendra decided to walk around our apartment to my bedroom window and started knocking on it, thinking that I was still on my bed sleeping. Of course, I was in the bathroom, so I didn't hear anything. Kendra wondered to herself how deep a sleeper I was and also asked the age old question: "Why, God, Why?" With nothing else to do, but to wait and hope that I would answer the door at some point, Kendra decided to pull some weeds in our backyard. She also watered the plants on the front porch and emptied water that had pooled in one of the trashcans that we keep outside.
Still unaware of what was happening outside, I was taking my sweet time in the shower room. When I finished, I sat in the middle of my room and pondered about what to do with my day and why I was hearing bells. I must admit that I was mildly concerned. At this point, my good friend Julianne called me. We were on the phone for some time, when I heard loud knocking at my window. I froze for a moment, until I heard a familiar voice say, "Linell? Linell? Can you...let me in?" Then all of a sudden, it was like a lightbulb turned on in my head: "OH. I wasn't hearing bells...there was someone ringing our doorbell. And it was Kendra. Wait, we have a doorbell?"
So, Kendra was finally let in and she filled me in on her eventful and productive morning. We laughed about the incident for sometime. Kendra saying that her life is like a sitcom and I agreed that funny things do happen to her. The best part is how she can turn a frustrating situation into something hilarious.
Then we decided to get make the most of the day by getting coffee and beignets at the Jazz Kitchen in Downtown Disney. It was also in honor of Team Gordo, a term originating from the fact that Kendra and her cousins love to eat junk food and lots of it when they get together. I've recently become an honorary member when I joined the family for Thanksgiving dinner this past November.
After we got back, we watched a few episodes of TLC's "Say Yes To the Dress." Kendra watched, while I mostly judged. I think the woman who needed three wedding dresses was kinda ridiculous.
Haha, what a day. And it's not over yet. Two new friends from Newport, Josh and Dave, have decided to pick me up and take me to Newport to hang out. Haven't done anything quite so spontaneous in quite some time. But it definitely makes life more interesting.
Toodles.
My roommate and good friend, Kendra feel that our lives, separately and together would make for good tv sitcom material. Our tv sitcom would be called: Our Neighbor, Luigi-- In honor of our eccentric and endearing neighbor, who is 45 years old, lives with an asian man (no relations) and his mother, who frequently leaves the house to walk her poodle (dyed pink, of course), with her hair in rollers, and a cigarette hanging loosely on the corner of her mouth.
Anyway, this morning, Kendra had a friend come over for breakfast. And being a nice friend that she is, she decided to walk her friend out to her car, unbeknownst to her at the time that she, out of force of habit, had locked the door as she closed it. Kendra realized her dilemma when she attempted to let herself in. She wasn't too worried, though, because she knew that her trusty roommate, Linell, would hear the doorbell/ knocking and let her back in shortly.
And in true sitcom fashion, where timing is everything, this is about the time that I decide to take a shower. While I was in the bathroom, I heard the distant clinging of bells, but since I didn't realize that we had a doorbell--how I missed this, I am not sure--I thought that I was just hearing things. I had been taking a lot of aspirin lately for pain, so I thought I developed a case of tinnitus and made a mental note to quit my pill-poppin.'
So, while I was showering, Kendra decided to walk around our apartment to my bedroom window and started knocking on it, thinking that I was still on my bed sleeping. Of course, I was in the bathroom, so I didn't hear anything. Kendra wondered to herself how deep a sleeper I was and also asked the age old question: "Why, God, Why?" With nothing else to do, but to wait and hope that I would answer the door at some point, Kendra decided to pull some weeds in our backyard. She also watered the plants on the front porch and emptied water that had pooled in one of the trashcans that we keep outside.
Still unaware of what was happening outside, I was taking my sweet time in the shower room. When I finished, I sat in the middle of my room and pondered about what to do with my day and why I was hearing bells. I must admit that I was mildly concerned. At this point, my good friend Julianne called me. We were on the phone for some time, when I heard loud knocking at my window. I froze for a moment, until I heard a familiar voice say, "Linell? Linell? Can you...let me in?" Then all of a sudden, it was like a lightbulb turned on in my head: "OH. I wasn't hearing bells...there was someone ringing our doorbell. And it was Kendra. Wait, we have a doorbell?"
So, Kendra was finally let in and she filled me in on her eventful and productive morning. We laughed about the incident for sometime. Kendra saying that her life is like a sitcom and I agreed that funny things do happen to her. The best part is how she can turn a frustrating situation into something hilarious.
Then we decided to get make the most of the day by getting coffee and beignets at the Jazz Kitchen in Downtown Disney. It was also in honor of Team Gordo, a term originating from the fact that Kendra and her cousins love to eat junk food and lots of it when they get together. I've recently become an honorary member when I joined the family for Thanksgiving dinner this past November.
After we got back, we watched a few episodes of TLC's "Say Yes To the Dress." Kendra watched, while I mostly judged. I think the woman who needed three wedding dresses was kinda ridiculous.
Haha, what a day. And it's not over yet. Two new friends from Newport, Josh and Dave, have decided to pick me up and take me to Newport to hang out. Haven't done anything quite so spontaneous in quite some time. But it definitely makes life more interesting.
Toodles.
5.1.11
The Civil Wars: Poison & Wine
I get to see these guys play Monday night @ Bardot in Hollywood. I am really excited. This is currently my favorite song of theirs. It's just a very heartfelt song. I think we can all relate to some aspect of it--if we've ever felt the push and pull of finding ourselves in love with the wrong person...
You only know what I want you to
I know everything you don't want me to
Your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine
You think your dreams are the same as mine
Oh, I don't love you, but I always will
I always will
I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back
The less I give, the more I get back
Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise
I don't have a choice, but I still choose you
Oh, I don't love you, but I always will
I always will...
4.1.11
A belated Happy New Year's to you.
 |
| Proud to be, a minority: me, the token asian :) |
This picture is really funny to me, not only because Sam and I are the only people actually looking at the camera (the other three were looking at Jimmy, who was drunk, who decided he wanted to take a picture, too), but because it was probably the most normal moment we had on New Year's eve. It wasn't a bad night, per say. But it was definitely weird. In New Year's eve pasts, I've kept things pretty low key, but I decided to join my friends in Newport this year, because I wanted to do something different. And to be completely honest, I had no idea what to expect.
I guess the weirdest thing that happened to me was that I got kissed by a woman that I didn't know. Yup. After going to a couple house parties, my friends wanted me to experience this really shady bar called Pierce Street in Costa Mesa. There was also promise of dancing and people watching, two things that enhance my life considerably. When we got there, and after narrowly escaping a fight that broke out in the woman's bathroom (that smelled more like weed than anything else), my friends and I headed out to the dance floor. Drunken people were abound, people of all shapes and sizes: cougars and dirty old men, women who wore too much clothing and women who wore too little, college freshmen, gangsta wanna be white men, OC housewives, guys who looked like they were Italian mobsters, standing along the sidelines, eyeing the dance floor greedily for their next prey... and the list goes on.
The DJ was playing some pretty fun music and amidst me doing the robot and other fancy moves, I noticed a woman, probably in her late 30's walking over to me. I am not really sure why I just stood there. I probably should've run away. But it all happened so quickly. She flung her arms around me and said, "I don't know you, but I loooooooooove you!" and kissed me briefly...on the lips. I basically ran away from her, ran from the dance floor and found Sam who was sitting by the bar. I told him what happened and how mortified I felt. He looked at me and said, "well, at least, somebody got kissed by a woman on New Year's." I replied by punching him in the arm.
It's funny now, but still gross. Haha, I got kissed by a girl. And I didn't like it.
Toodles.
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