Faith

Faith is better understood as a verb than as a noun, as a process than as a possession. It is on-again-off-again rather than once-and-for-all. Faith is not being sure where you're going, but going anyway. A journey without maps. Tillich said that doubt isn't the opposite of faith; it is an element of faith.

- Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Seeker's ABC

Sad Song

Sing me a sad song to keep the melancholy at bay, sing me a sad song to make me wish you would stay.

Good

I just want to be a good person. I'm not quite sure what that means, but I think it means being there for those who need you (even when, especially when, they don't tell you), engaging with and including those who are 'beneath' you,  being present, being attentive, being accepting, being open, being free. I don't really know what being 'good' entails, but all I know is I just want to be a good person.

You

I want to spill all my secrets to you. I want to tell you all the things I've never told a soul. I want to tell you everything I'm feeling, everything I'm scared of, everything I'm thinking of in this moment. I want to stay in bed with you and exchange stupid jokes and life lessons in the same breath. I want you to pry into my heart and my soul, I want you to be there, I want you to ask all the things that no one's asked me before, and I want you take me for what I am and what I'm not.

Love Surrounds

I think I'm finally realizing how much love surrounds me. In my grandmother's tearful prayers, I see love. In my friends' telephone conversations as I commute home from work, I see love. In my brother's ever-ready loans, I see love. In my dog's eager, ever-playful eyes, I see love. In my former manager's comments, I see love. In my solitude, when a text of well-wishing comes to the screen, I see love. In my mother's calls, no matter how many times I ignore them, I see love. In my best friend's understanding gaze, I see love.

I am just now realizing how much love surrounds me. And I am so, so grateful.

I hope that I can express my gratitude, sooner or later.

Coming "Home"

I'm trying to figure out why coming to Sacramento always inevitably ends with me feeling like shit.

Hump Day

What a terrible week.

The Art of Racing in the Rain

After spending the afternoon in Seattle, drinking coffee and sending emails, meandering through Pike Place Market, I stopped by Half Price Books in Tukwila on the way home. I don’t remember the last time I recreationally read, and especially finished, a novel (though many valiant attempts were made, but the starting proved to be much easier than the finishing), so I browsed the aisles aimlessly, just waiting for something to catch my eye.

En Entendant Godot crossed my path, a French version of the beloved Garfield, both securing a place in my hands, but I kept on. And then, from the corner of my eye, the top of a dog’s head peeked out. The Art of Racing in the Rain. By the title, I would never give it a second glance, but why the dog on the cover? My curiosity piqued, I opened the front flap.

“Enzo knows he is different from other dogs: a philosopher with a nearly human soul (and an obsession with opposable thumbs), he has educated himself by watching television extensively, and by listening very closely to the words of his master, Denny Swift, an up-and-coming race car driver.”

A novel told from the perspective of a dog. I needed nothing else. (Not to mention it was a mere $2.00 – a steal!)

The Art of Racing in the Rain is the most heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, dog-loving book that I have ever read. The tears began on page 4 and the flood gates were released by page 317. The novel begins with Enzo, our narrating canine, knowing that he is about to die – and wanting to. The following chapters are written in retrospect, following the lives of Denny and his family, but through Enzo’s eyes. 

Now, for those of you that are heartless dog-detesters, this novel is not for you. You simply wouldn’t understand. But for any and all dog-lovers, this is a must read. It will make you appreciate your canine companion so much more and will provide you with a warm, soul-cleansing cry.

The Art of Racing in the Rain. Two paws up.

Now excuse me while I mull over pictures of my Ellie and wallow in my melancholy.

Here

I may be unemployed, I may be living with my grandparents, I may have a single friend, but it doesn't matter. At least I am here. Finally, I am here.

Wait

Graduation is in two weeks: at last! No more papers, no more readings, no more tests, no more -- wait. No more...friends. No more co-workers, no more roommates, no more of those who have shaped and molded my life and my mind and my very being for the past one two three four years -- no more. Wait. No more. No, I'm not ready for no more. Wait.

Dreaming

I'm dreaming of a rainy day, followed by a stormy, chilly night. And the power going out, and bringing the candles out, and not wanting to step a single toe out. I'm dreaming of becoming mountains, with blankets and blankets piled atop us, and only a couple fingers peeking out to put down our cards. I'm dreaming of the chill creeping toward us, but the laughter and delight warming us from within. I'm dreaming of a late, dark, night, filled with simple pleasures and cheer, filled with love so warm, it keeps the shivers at bay. I'm dreaming.

Conceal to Reveal

With all the talk going around about "real beauty," not only are extravagant uses of Photoshop critiqued, but often times, any use of makeup is tossed into the mix. People are often telling women, "You don't need make-up to be beautiful; you're perfect the way you are!" and others saying they like the "natural" look. But in the same breath, they often tell their female peers that they look sick or tired when they fail to wear mascara or eyeliner.

Everyone has a preconceived notion of what others are supposed to look like. Critiques of the above are many, but those are for another time, another day. Today, I am making a case for the positive aspect of using makeup and giving into these preconceived notions.

I have been wearing make up for years. And the reason behind it is perfectly summarized with Dermablend's Camo Confessions campaign. You can view the most recent videos here.

I do not put on make-up every day to fake who I am, to "trick" anyone, or put on a false persona. On the contrary, I do it so that people can instead see who I really am -- the sarcastic, witty, emotional, loyal, indecisive person that I am. Because if I didn't, they would instead focus on my physical appearance. The preconceived notion that I am ascribing to is looking normal.

Perfect skin is not something that I have been blessed with. I'm not talking about acne or pimples; I have instead been beautified with a continuous, crimson complexion. And I do not want that to be the first thing that people see and judge me by. I want people to look past my skin and instead judge me by the content of my character, however charming or repellent it may be. And that is why I conceal to reveal. I wear my makeup, and I wear it proudly, because it helps me be who I want to be -- my face is a canvas, one where I can show the rest of the world how I see myself, how I hope that it can see me. And for that, I will not be ashamed.

Debrief

I woke up this morning earlier than I have on a weekday for several weeks now, and had my first official day at my new internship, and it turned out to be the start of an amazing day. I ended up staying an hour later than I was scheduled because I was determined to figure out why the stupid website wasn't doing what I wanted it to do, but it finally worked! It may have been a small goal to reach, in the grand scheme of things, but I walked away feeling so accomplished -- I don't remember the last time I felt that successful. It left me with a pleasant disposition for the rest of the day.

Pi Sigma Alpha held our annual forum this evening and although some rather...eccentric Tea Party characters came out, it was definitely an interesting event. The night finished off with going out for drinks with a few of our members, and it was just an overall great time. I felt so carefree.

There really is no point to this post, but to give a debrief of my day (even if it may not make very much sense). I just wanted to put it into writing, for myself, that I am happy.

Seattle Dreaming

I remember being obsessed with the idea of moving to Seattle at the end of freshman year. I looked at apartments, thought about how much money I should save, and dreamed of walking those streets right after graduating from college.

Well the weeks, months, and years passed, and I forgot about that dream. Or rather, thought it would be too impossible, too impractical to actually come to fruition. And I began, instead, to plan on staying in Los Angeles, even though it makes me miserable.

But then, Seattle creeped back into my mind. It somehow came up during discussion with my roommates and one thing led to another, and before you know it, the three of us had Seattle on our minds. We're looking at housing, applying for jobs, and are going to visit in mid-April.

I am filled with anxiety but also anticipation. I left my heart in Seattle and want to go find it again.

Today

I went to the Health Center today and they prescribed me sleep-aid medication. I think this is about five years overdue.

She said it should help with my anxiety.

Young and Beautiful

I've seen the world
Done it all
Had my cake now
Diamonds, brilliant
And Bel Air now
Hot summer nights, mid July
When you and I were forever wild
The crazy days, city lights
The way you'd play with me like a child

Will you still love me
When I'm no longer young and beautiful?
Will you still love me
When I got nothing but my aching soul?

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

- Lana Del Rey, "Young and Beautiful"

Laughing with Life

February 2014 was the strangest month of my life. My personal, physical, and professional lives have been flipped and jerked around, and I'm at the point where if life throws any other punches at me, I'm not even going to try to duck or brace myself. All I can do at this point is shrug, throw up my hands, and laugh.

I'm Not Sorry

I'm done apologizing for what I want and what I need. Never again will I utter a "sorry" after texting you, again, after I've been drinking because I stop myself when I'm sober. When I'm sober I rationalize and tell myself, "No, there's no need to bother him; he's busy, he'll talk to me when he has time." But those rationalizations don't overcome my desire to know that I am present and on your mind. I am done apologizing for wanting to know that just because I'm out of sight, doesn't mean I'm out of mind; I am done with waiting on you to grace me with your attention; I am done with hanging on to your every word. I want affirmation, and this does not make me "clingy" or "needy." (The audacity, wanting to know that I am appreciated and loved...) This is what I want, this is what I need, and for that, never again, will I be sorry.

Breathing Freely

A few days ago, as I was getting dressed for class, putting on my makeup and singing along to the radio, I realized that I was filled with a sense of peace and contentment. All was well. It had been a rather long time since I'd last felt like that, it really took me by surprise. I just smiled and kept singing.

The few days since then have been rather unnerving and stressful. But today, a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders and I can finally breathe and move on. Life's too short for sleepless nights and wasted thoughts so I'm moving on. And I'm breathing freely.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

- Robert Frost, "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"

Keeping Time (Repost)

Breathe in - breathe out, count
  one
    two
      three
and I don't care anymore.

Breathe in - breathe out, count
  one
    two
      three
and I don't know you anymore.

Lesson Learned

I am more than just your afterthought, always available at your earliest convenience, always for your own benefit. I only wish that I had seen it sooner.

Україна

It's quite bewildering that the political turmoil, civil disaster, and overall strife of a nation I've never even seen with my own eyes makes my heart so heavy. But it somehow aches like home.

Боже, я молюсь за Україну,
Боже, молю Тебе за людей.

Lessons I Wish I Had Learned Last Year

The people that surround you are only going to be there for so long - enjoy them while you can. Netflix isn't going anywhere.
If you're too drunk to drive, you also probably shouldn't be texting or calling anyone.
Thursday night classes are the worst idea.
When you try to beat someone else to the punch, you're just knocking the air out of yourself.
Working twelve hours in a row between two jobs is never a good idea. It's not worth it.
Weekend shifts are also never worth it.
Read in the foreign languages that you know, or you'll forget them.
You shouldn't spend 75% of your paycheck within two days of payday.
Always go on more walks.
Let love breathe.