In a couple of days, 2012 is officially over. 2012, one of my favorite years in history. A lot of firsts happened this year, and those firsts are all wonderful, fantastic beginnings.
A short list:
1. My first internship.
2. My first of a total of three scholarships.
3. My first time having medical and dental insurance.
4. My first time doing yoga/pilates.
5. My first time living full time in a hotel.
6. My first time attending online classes, and my first time attending a state university.
7. My first time in the President's Honor Roll.
8. My first time being reall happy in a romantic relationship.
I'm ready for 2013, if 2013 is anywhere close to being as fabulous as 2012, I'm walking into the new year with a bottle of Champagne.
Stories and letters of a Virgo.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Friday, December 28, 2012
hobbies
It's a sad thought bubble that popped up in my head, when I realized I don't have any hobbies, or anything really, to do to de-stress from my life. Sure I'm a busy lady. I go to school full time, work full time, and starting January, I'm going to start my part time job with the Advisory Board Council.
Work, work, work.
Really, I'm working constantly so I can avoid the unlit, muggy corners of my soul, the fractured pieces of my dark heart.
Someone once told me reading isn't a hobby, because it's just another way for me to avoid myself and my own issues. True, true. What better way to indulge in avoidism than reading about other people's messy, unfortunate lives?
I did yoga, pilates, and fusion classes for most of the year last year and the beginning of this year. And then I went back to school, changed jobs, got an internship, got 2 promotions and amassed more responsibilities at work and met someone who cracked open my insular life to let a few more people in.
Yoga, I miss it. But with school in the horizon until the summer without the security of tuition fee getting paid in full, I can't even begin to think about buying a yoga membership. Or any membership for that matter. Besides, I'm morally opposed to spending money on hobbies. I'd rather spend the money on any of my causes.
This should be my goal for 2013, find a hobby that fulfills me in ways nothing else can.
Work, work, work.
Really, I'm working constantly so I can avoid the unlit, muggy corners of my soul, the fractured pieces of my dark heart.
Someone once told me reading isn't a hobby, because it's just another way for me to avoid myself and my own issues. True, true. What better way to indulge in avoidism than reading about other people's messy, unfortunate lives?
I did yoga, pilates, and fusion classes for most of the year last year and the beginning of this year. And then I went back to school, changed jobs, got an internship, got 2 promotions and amassed more responsibilities at work and met someone who cracked open my insular life to let a few more people in.
Yoga, I miss it. But with school in the horizon until the summer without the security of tuition fee getting paid in full, I can't even begin to think about buying a yoga membership. Or any membership for that matter. Besides, I'm morally opposed to spending money on hobbies. I'd rather spend the money on any of my causes.
This should be my goal for 2013, find a hobby that fulfills me in ways nothing else can.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
A short reading list
I found a few new blogs that I find absolutely delightful...
www.lovelifeeat.com by Felicia Sullivan and www.eatthelove.com, coincidentally both blogs are focused on food and baking.
I had a short-lived career as a baker and there's always going to be a part of me that is going to want to bake. I sublimate that desire through reading cookbooks, food blogs, and endlessly looking at the masterful sugar creations at my job.
One of my great luck in life is having a horse-powered metabolism. I'm one of those annoying girls who eat everything off a buffet table, and the dessert table and is still hungry a few hours later. But as I get older, and more conscious of my consumption, I realize I don't need to eat so much. In fact, my needs and wants are very few and I prefer to keep it that way.
To taste my self-control, I look at the beautiful pastries at different bakeries. Somehow, looking at them fulfills a need that I have, I'm not quite sure what it is but it works for me.
www.lovelifeeat.com by Felicia Sullivan and www.eatthelove.com, coincidentally both blogs are focused on food and baking.
I had a short-lived career as a baker and there's always going to be a part of me that is going to want to bake. I sublimate that desire through reading cookbooks, food blogs, and endlessly looking at the masterful sugar creations at my job.
One of my great luck in life is having a horse-powered metabolism. I'm one of those annoying girls who eat everything off a buffet table, and the dessert table and is still hungry a few hours later. But as I get older, and more conscious of my consumption, I realize I don't need to eat so much. In fact, my needs and wants are very few and I prefer to keep it that way.
To taste my self-control, I look at the beautiful pastries at different bakeries. Somehow, looking at them fulfills a need that I have, I'm not quite sure what it is but it works for me.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Really...
Forever the introvert, I went to a Christmas party and left less than an hour later. I wanted some "me" time, more than anything. I worked over eight hours today with a 5-minute break. Such is the life of a manager, you get paid more, but you give up small luxuries such as taking a break or eating your lunch.
I was smart, I ate a big breakfast burrito filled with vegetables on a sprouted wheat tortilla. My blood sugar stayed even throughout my very long day and I didn't get "hangry." I may not be good with other intuitive nudges in my life but when it comes to feeding myself, I've grown quite familiar with the plains and hills of my blood sugar.
After leaving the party, I drove over to the pub I always frequent. The place where I always feel warm and welcome. As luck would have it, they had crab cakes on the specials. Crab cakes are one of life's most beautiful creations. Eating my vegetables first, a few bites of potatoes next, and then the crab cakes. Intuitively, I should have had just one crab cake. I had two and a half squares of rice cripies and a handful of white chocolate popcorn at the party I left. I'm learning how to eat at the 70%, 75% (level) at the most, just like the Japanese.
But I was exhausted, tired, worn out. I filled the empty, dark spaces in my soul with food again. Really, I should be happy/ecstatic. Talking to my friend about all of this year's bounty and graces and I pretty much won the lottery. All the scholarship money, growing my hourly rate 6 dollars, my fabulous insurance, and all the wonderful people I've known and met this year...
Really, I should be happy/ecstatic but most days I just fell left out, like the bus moved on without me when I was standing in front of the queue the whole time.
I was smart, I ate a big breakfast burrito filled with vegetables on a sprouted wheat tortilla. My blood sugar stayed even throughout my very long day and I didn't get "hangry." I may not be good with other intuitive nudges in my life but when it comes to feeding myself, I've grown quite familiar with the plains and hills of my blood sugar.
After leaving the party, I drove over to the pub I always frequent. The place where I always feel warm and welcome. As luck would have it, they had crab cakes on the specials. Crab cakes are one of life's most beautiful creations. Eating my vegetables first, a few bites of potatoes next, and then the crab cakes. Intuitively, I should have had just one crab cake. I had two and a half squares of rice cripies and a handful of white chocolate popcorn at the party I left. I'm learning how to eat at the 70%, 75% (level) at the most, just like the Japanese.
But I was exhausted, tired, worn out. I filled the empty, dark spaces in my soul with food again. Really, I should be happy/ecstatic. Talking to my friend about all of this year's bounty and graces and I pretty much won the lottery. All the scholarship money, growing my hourly rate 6 dollars, my fabulous insurance, and all the wonderful people I've known and met this year...
Really, I should be happy/ecstatic but most days I just fell left out, like the bus moved on without me when I was standing in front of the queue the whole time.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
envy
Some things I'll never learn--for instance, never look up your rival online. No matter how juicy and compelling her LinkedIn profile looks like, just don't give in.
Too late.
She's that girl I've always thought I should be. She goes horseback riding for one thing, and I try not to scream with envy. Her resume boasts of places where I would kill to work, and her titles--her business titles, they just drip with cash, benefits, and the luxe life--none of which I have or own.
I should be better than this, but I'm really not.
I'm an accomplished woman, in my own way. I've won journalism and creative writing awards. I've won lucrative scholarships. I'm a philantrophist (in my own small ways), and I'm a prolific investor. And yet, and yet--the envy pangs are eating away at my kidneys, and most especially, my heart.
My heart, my heart.
My gratefulness for all of my life's blessings disappeared in a wink. I heard news that I'm hired as a Student Advisory Board Leader for the next three quarters--effectively sealing scholarship money for my last year in college.
I feel like an ungrateful little witch.
Truly, the universe and the gods have multiplied my blessings, and here I am whining about some lady who has no idea who I am.
Endlessly comparing myself to others will poison the well of my own happiness--something to remember and keep to heart.
Too late.
She's that girl I've always thought I should be. She goes horseback riding for one thing, and I try not to scream with envy. Her resume boasts of places where I would kill to work, and her titles--her business titles, they just drip with cash, benefits, and the luxe life--none of which I have or own.
I should be better than this, but I'm really not.
I'm an accomplished woman, in my own way. I've won journalism and creative writing awards. I've won lucrative scholarships. I'm a philantrophist (in my own small ways), and I'm a prolific investor. And yet, and yet--the envy pangs are eating away at my kidneys, and most especially, my heart.
My heart, my heart.
My gratefulness for all of my life's blessings disappeared in a wink. I heard news that I'm hired as a Student Advisory Board Leader for the next three quarters--effectively sealing scholarship money for my last year in college.
I feel like an ungrateful little witch.
Truly, the universe and the gods have multiplied my blessings, and here I am whining about some lady who has no idea who I am.
Endlessly comparing myself to others will poison the well of my own happiness--something to remember and keep to heart.
12/17/12
12/15/12
When the conversation about getting bonuses came up a few
weeks ago, I remember thinking, “I’ll be so happy to receive at least $500.”
Wrong, guess again.
My sense of
propriety prevents me from divulging the actual amount I received but it was
enough to send me to the ladies’ room and have a tear-filled moment. It was
enough to pay one month’s rent and have some left over to party. It’s the
biggest bonus check I’ve ever seen in my life, before this bonus check, the
biggest bonus I’ve ever seen in my life is $200. This bonus check is a grandma
bonus check.
A part of me wants to feel bad about this abundance, but
there’s another part of me that’s been working myself to death in the same
industry for 10 years for almost no pay. I wonder if overpaid CEO’s ever feel
bad how much money they make. This is such a strong pattern in my life—I get a
surprise check (although, nothing in life is really a surprise, as I’ve found
the older I get) and I get such a pain in my gut over the guilt off my good
fortune. Maybe it has to do with growing up in a third world country—no matter
where you turn, so many starving, poor people everywhere.
I have to remind myself this is a natural and normal
accounting of my deeds this past year. I work myself to death, literally, in
all aspects of my life. The bonus check is just a reminder of how hard I’ve
worked all year, including my unpaid internship.
Already I’m thinking of sharing my graces. Not that I don’t
already do pretty much every day of my life. I don’t know how I find any guilt
in fair compensation for my hard work, but I do.
12/17/12
Yesterday I spent the better half of the day, sitting in a
room with women who are vying for the same job as I do. A rather eclectic
bunch—I noticed, and I also noticed how much older I seemed compared to the
rest of them. I want to say its age, but none of them are that much younger
than me. For sure, I’ve lost that awkward giggly-ness of the younger set, and I
tend to speak more assuredly these days. Another thing that set me apart is I
was dressed better than the interviewees—I almost wished I had dressed down.
Really, I feel older and wiser. I interviewed twice for a
mega STEM company, I interviewed with Harvard MBA-ers, I had sold a house, I
demanded a raise and promotion at my current job, and I’ve fought hard for
scholarships. I wish I could tell the crying Ruzielle back in February that
being turned down for the job she really wanted to get means bigger, better
doors will open up one after the other.
12/14/12
Silence or at least, some other person’s voice in my head
will do me some good. It’s almost the end of the year, and I’m forcing myself
to do more, more, more.
One friend organized
a book drive, and of course, I have to give something. She’s also throwing a
party, and I’m racking my brain trying to figure out what to give her for her
hostess gift. A few days after this party, another friend is throwing a Christmas
day party, and I’m planning, planning on what to give this party. Christmas
day, itself, and what do I do? Do I linger at the party? Do I volunteer at the
church? Do I go out to the movies?
I begged off dinner and drinks with co-workers tonight.
Really, I spend 40 hours a week with these people; another
two hours won’t kill anyone. But still…the thought of telling anyone my life
story, making polite banter, laughing at all the right jokes… I’m not
depressed, but I’ve had moments when all I could do is sleep for 15 hours
straight.
My brain just needs a break.
I’m not of those
people who harness energy from a room filled with happy, shiny people. Quite
frankly, people tire me. I inhale books, because books unlike people never
disappoint. Or when they do, I can always shelve them. It’s the weather, and
the season. I’m pretty in touch, so to speak. Fall never makes me want to go
out and go to parties; on the contrary, it makes me want to hide out, read,
sleep for longer than necessary. All
this rain isn’t making anyone want to go out either.
I need this time, more than anything, to stay in and listen
to the words of my heart.
For a good hour or so, I packaged up the candy that I
bought for presents and placed them inside mason jars. I love the idea of a semi-homemade
gift. I love mason jars, too. Something about mason jars, that I’ve always
liked, even as a child; the feel of it, the sturdiness and its compact beauty.
I feel out of tune. I miss having conversations with the
spirits, and knowing I can call them whenever I want. My heart seems so far
away, and wherever it is, I can’t call, email or text.
The quietness of my own mind, I miss it so.
*
12/15/12
When the conversation about getting bonuses came up a few
weeks ago, I remember thinking, “I’ll be so happy to receive at least $500.”
Wrong, guess again.
My sense of
propriety prevents me from divulging the actual amount I received but it was
enough to send me to the ladies’ room and have a tear-filled moment. It was
enough to pay one month’s rent and have some left over to party. It’s the
biggest bonus check I’ve ever seen in my life, before this bonus check, the
biggest bonus I’ve ever seen in my life is $200. This bonus check is a grandma
bonus check.
A part of me wants to feel bad about this abundance, but
there’s another part of me that’s been working myself to death in the same
industry for 10 years for almost no pay. I wonder if overpaid CEO’s ever feel
bad how much money they make. This is such a strong pattern in my life—I get a
surprise check (although, nothing in life is really a surprise, as I’ve found
the older I get) and I get such a pain in my gut over the guilt off my good
fortune. Maybe it has to do with growing up in a third world country—no matter
where you turn, so many starving, poor people everywhere.
I have to remind myself this is a natural and normal
accounting of my deeds this past year. I work myself to death, literally, in
all aspects of my life. The bonus check is just a reminder of how hard I’ve
worked all year, including my unpaid internship.
Already I’m thinking of sharing my graces. Not that I don’t
already do pretty much every day of my life. I don’t know how I find any guilt
in fair compensation for my hard work, but I do.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
peppermint in jars
Sunday marked my last day at the university.
I submitted my formal critique and as of this writing I'm waiting for my professors to post my final grades. I'm hoping for 3 A's and a B (this class, apparently, caused havoc in everybody's lives, as of this writing I'm still in the top of the class).
I threw away my course schedules, and other notes weeks ago in a general burst of feng shui-induced cleaning energy. In a few weeks, this year is over, and I didn't want to be left with old baggage from this year. One final baggage remains, the house that is yet to be formally turned over to its new owner. I'm hoping by Friday, the transaction is finished--I've spent so much time, money, emotional energy taking care of this house, I just want it written off of my palms.
As I sit eating my tasteless dinner in a chain restaurant, I remembered something about me that I'm always trying to forget. I fill my empty, spaces in my soul with movement, food, shopping, reading, and writing. The worst is when I look at retail items at different shops, and when I stuff myself with food like a goose meant for the Christmas table.
When I was younger I almost drowned in debt. I spent, literally, everyday of my life, either eating too much, or shopping too much. I didn't realize what I was doing until I started receiving credit card statements that didn't seem to end. I had a few thousand dollars of consumer debt within a few months.
Of course, nobody ever talked to me about money. Money was always this mysterious entity that made or broke people. When I was growing up, despite our massive house, our cars, our private schools--there was never enough money, not enough to buy any of us any happiness.
So I paid $7 for dinner I didn't even like, I threw away half of it, and I drove around the park to look at the Christmas lights. This is the first time in years, I really felt like Christmas. I spent quite a bit of time staring at pastries at the patisserie in downtown, stuffing my brain with gift ideas. I'm not much of a gift-giver during holidays, I prefer random gifts during the year.
Books, are always on my list. I have two Christmas parties to attend this year and the hosts are in my shopping list. So is my boss, who gave me the gift of two promotions and a Christmas bonus.
My friend's store closed in September, and normally, that's where I go for gifts. She usually had the best gifts in the land. So I went to the next woman-owned retail shop in town, and I found a jar of mint candies. My boss has quite the sweet tooth, and I have a strange affinity for gifts inside jars. The gift shop wraps up the gifts wonderfully for a dollar.
I've always liked the idea of food as gifts. With retail items, you never know if it will disappoint, but with food--food always brings people together.
I submitted my formal critique and as of this writing I'm waiting for my professors to post my final grades. I'm hoping for 3 A's and a B (this class, apparently, caused havoc in everybody's lives, as of this writing I'm still in the top of the class).
I threw away my course schedules, and other notes weeks ago in a general burst of feng shui-induced cleaning energy. In a few weeks, this year is over, and I didn't want to be left with old baggage from this year. One final baggage remains, the house that is yet to be formally turned over to its new owner. I'm hoping by Friday, the transaction is finished--I've spent so much time, money, emotional energy taking care of this house, I just want it written off of my palms.
As I sit eating my tasteless dinner in a chain restaurant, I remembered something about me that I'm always trying to forget. I fill my empty, spaces in my soul with movement, food, shopping, reading, and writing. The worst is when I look at retail items at different shops, and when I stuff myself with food like a goose meant for the Christmas table.
When I was younger I almost drowned in debt. I spent, literally, everyday of my life, either eating too much, or shopping too much. I didn't realize what I was doing until I started receiving credit card statements that didn't seem to end. I had a few thousand dollars of consumer debt within a few months.
Of course, nobody ever talked to me about money. Money was always this mysterious entity that made or broke people. When I was growing up, despite our massive house, our cars, our private schools--there was never enough money, not enough to buy any of us any happiness.
So I paid $7 for dinner I didn't even like, I threw away half of it, and I drove around the park to look at the Christmas lights. This is the first time in years, I really felt like Christmas. I spent quite a bit of time staring at pastries at the patisserie in downtown, stuffing my brain with gift ideas. I'm not much of a gift-giver during holidays, I prefer random gifts during the year.
Books, are always on my list. I have two Christmas parties to attend this year and the hosts are in my shopping list. So is my boss, who gave me the gift of two promotions and a Christmas bonus.
My friend's store closed in September, and normally, that's where I go for gifts. She usually had the best gifts in the land. So I went to the next woman-owned retail shop in town, and I found a jar of mint candies. My boss has quite the sweet tooth, and I have a strange affinity for gifts inside jars. The gift shop wraps up the gifts wonderfully for a dollar.
I've always liked the idea of food as gifts. With retail items, you never know if it will disappoint, but with food--food always brings people together.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
pizza and chocolate
pizza: $2.55. My co-worker designed a new pizza recipe and he wanted me to try it. I brought food from home and I should have eaten it instead.
imported chocolate bar from Spain: $2.12: I'm not feeling too happy today at work, or the other aspects of my life--nothing really makes me happier than fantastic chocolate. It's self-defeating, really, but nobody has to deal with the own darkness inside my heart.
imported chocolate bar from Spain: $2.12: I'm not feeling too happy today at work, or the other aspects of my life--nothing really makes me happier than fantastic chocolate. It's self-defeating, really, but nobody has to deal with the own darkness inside my heart.
Friday, December 7, 2012
expenditures
DEc 6: 84 cents, cheese stick for breakfast
DEC 7: 2.84, a gnarly sausage and egg breakfast. I really have to eat at home before heading to work
DEC 7: 2.84, a gnarly sausage and egg breakfast. I really have to eat at home before heading to work
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
consciousness
This is the word of my 2012--Consciousness; perhaps I should say, the lack of consciousness in my life has lead to some rather big changes, and most of them I barely remember. A huge part of the lack of consciousness in my life, manifests itself, (unfortunately) in my finances. Money seems to always vanish from my bank account. As of this writing, I have about $9 to my name. It's a damn shame, really, considering, I'm making the most money I've ever made from a full time job and I don't have to work 2-3 jobs anymore like I used to.
In my defense, last month was the month of the SUV maintenance, going to the dentist, and paying my brother back $150 out of the $500 I owe him. Oh, and my friend was robbed of $300 and I gave her $30 towards her fundraising, and another $30 for a pizza dinner. Plus, I spent $50 in her store, because I felt bad for her. Oh, and a few days ago, I spent $21 on the worst dim sum lunch on earth. Unfortunately, I have zero interest in cooking so I tend to get something to eat on the go. Not good for my health, or my finances.
It's true what people say, it's not how much money you make, it's what you do with it. I've fallen under this stereotype. For the first time in a long time, I'm in a financially stable position but I don't have anything to show for it. I've had jobs when I worked for tips and I was able to put money on my IRA.
I'm also in school, and school has been a tremendous money drain. I'm transferring schools in January, which would effectively lower my education costs by a third.
So this is what I'm proposing, I'm going to start writing down everything I spent until I figure out a way to live and spend more consciously. I've become one of those people I hate--one of those mindless sheep consumers and I have to stop. In my defense, I tend to throw money at small business owners. So here goes, I've listed the purchases I did yesterday and today's and hopefully I can find meaning in my mindless consumerism.
Dec 4 expenditures
$2: coffee at Mike's (non-negotiable)
$7: "lunch" at Jack in the Box (terrifically bad lunch choice)
$50: gas (non-negotiable)
$6: Obama's book (a "I'm so bored" purchase)
$4.37: movie purchase at Amazon, "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" (so worth it, I never go to the movies)
Dec 5 expenditures
$0: a nice dinner at a Thai restaurant, paid for by a friend.
$6: two small frozen yogurts.
In my defense, last month was the month of the SUV maintenance, going to the dentist, and paying my brother back $150 out of the $500 I owe him. Oh, and my friend was robbed of $300 and I gave her $30 towards her fundraising, and another $30 for a pizza dinner. Plus, I spent $50 in her store, because I felt bad for her. Oh, and a few days ago, I spent $21 on the worst dim sum lunch on earth. Unfortunately, I have zero interest in cooking so I tend to get something to eat on the go. Not good for my health, or my finances.
It's true what people say, it's not how much money you make, it's what you do with it. I've fallen under this stereotype. For the first time in a long time, I'm in a financially stable position but I don't have anything to show for it. I've had jobs when I worked for tips and I was able to put money on my IRA.
I'm also in school, and school has been a tremendous money drain. I'm transferring schools in January, which would effectively lower my education costs by a third.
So this is what I'm proposing, I'm going to start writing down everything I spent until I figure out a way to live and spend more consciously. I've become one of those people I hate--one of those mindless sheep consumers and I have to stop. In my defense, I tend to throw money at small business owners. So here goes, I've listed the purchases I did yesterday and today's and hopefully I can find meaning in my mindless consumerism.
Dec 4 expenditures
$2: coffee at Mike's (non-negotiable)
$7: "lunch" at Jack in the Box (terrifically bad lunch choice)
$50: gas (non-negotiable)
$6: Obama's book (a "I'm so bored" purchase)
$4.37: movie purchase at Amazon, "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" (so worth it, I never go to the movies)
Dec 5 expenditures
$0: a nice dinner at a Thai restaurant, paid for by a friend.
$6: two small frozen yogurts.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
A sweet note, goodbye
I just finished a lecture about sweets and deserts in WA State on yet another frigid day in the Northwest. yes, you read that right, it's a Saturday, on my day off and I'm in a library for an Anthropology lecture. Food anthropology, I have to add, just in case everybody thinks I'm a complete nerd.
I am a complete nerd, and as I sit in the classroom, I can't wait to crack open two new books I found at the library that are begging to be read. I can't escape my nature, which is to read as if books are going extinct in two hours. Truly, books are my passion, and after reading Paterno last night I realized he and I share an obsession with words. Two very different people, but we have words linking us together across the United States.
Right after the disappointing news of being turned down for a prestigious internship, I was greeted by a very welcome news. As of this writing, I've officially been offered a position for the newly-minted Student Advisory Council Leaders within Seattle Education Access--a NGO that is near and dear to my heart. These are the moments that make failure a little bit easier to digest, and for this semester I've had quite a few; both in school and in real life. Two weeks to go and I've taken my last quiz--the final requirement for the semester in Anthropology and I'm packing up for my new life. A new life in a different college, anyway.
I'm anxiously waiting for 2013 to barge in with a marching band behind him. A new, but old college campus, including a program I designed with my friend and mentor, Dr. Polly; a new job in her NGO, and maybe, another raise and promotion in the offing.
To celebrate I went out for a dim sum lunch, and I should have had eggs and sausage next door instead. No matter--even if I don't quite it for the writing internship, and the Dean's List at WSU--I'm going to be happy and content, just until the winds of change start to kick my doors gaping open.
I am a complete nerd, and as I sit in the classroom, I can't wait to crack open two new books I found at the library that are begging to be read. I can't escape my nature, which is to read as if books are going extinct in two hours. Truly, books are my passion, and after reading Paterno last night I realized he and I share an obsession with words. Two very different people, but we have words linking us together across the United States.
Right after the disappointing news of being turned down for a prestigious internship, I was greeted by a very welcome news. As of this writing, I've officially been offered a position for the newly-minted Student Advisory Council Leaders within Seattle Education Access--a NGO that is near and dear to my heart. These are the moments that make failure a little bit easier to digest, and for this semester I've had quite a few; both in school and in real life. Two weeks to go and I've taken my last quiz--the final requirement for the semester in Anthropology and I'm packing up for my new life. A new life in a different college, anyway.
I'm anxiously waiting for 2013 to barge in with a marching band behind him. A new, but old college campus, including a program I designed with my friend and mentor, Dr. Polly; a new job in her NGO, and maybe, another raise and promotion in the offing.
To celebrate I went out for a dim sum lunch, and I should have had eggs and sausage next door instead. No matter--even if I don't quite it for the writing internship, and the Dean's List at WSU--I'm going to be happy and content, just until the winds of change start to kick my doors gaping open.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Three of swords
I didn't get the internship job I interviewed for last week. Yesterday, I received a big, fat 'F' on a paper I worked really hard on. I thought the metaphor I used as a nucleus for my paper was clever, witty and well wrought. My professor thought it was a joke. I've never received an 'F' before, certainly not in a paper I shed blood, tears, and sweat over. I'm glad he thought it was a joke, considering I've received nothing but A's in his class. I keep wanting to cry. My heart is broken so many times this week I can't believe I'm still standing, and not doubled over in pain and grief.
Is there a silver lining?
I hate that expression. I'm a born pessimist, and I don't consciously look for the positive in bleak situtations. A few days before that, I found out I was disqualified for a scholarship, because I didn't have any dependents. In the language of the Tarot cards, the three of swords meant heart break. if that were true, I have three massive swords sticking out of my chest.
I have another interview with Dream Company. I can't help but think the cosmos is pushing me towards a writer's life. I cancelled an interview with a magazine, because I was convinced I was going to get the business internship instead. I'm looking for cues somewhere, and maybe I can find answers.
Maybe the drops of blood will reveal the answers.
Is there a silver lining?
I hate that expression. I'm a born pessimist, and I don't consciously look for the positive in bleak situtations. A few days before that, I found out I was disqualified for a scholarship, because I didn't have any dependents. In the language of the Tarot cards, the three of swords meant heart break. if that were true, I have three massive swords sticking out of my chest.
I have another interview with Dream Company. I can't help but think the cosmos is pushing me towards a writer's life. I cancelled an interview with a magazine, because I was convinced I was going to get the business internship instead. I'm looking for cues somewhere, and maybe I can find answers.
Maybe the drops of blood will reveal the answers.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Wishes, gathering strength
My borrowed laptop won't allow me to access my own blog which explains my absence. Another thing that could explain my absence is the sudden burst of good fortune in my life for which I have no explanation. My Dream Company called me not just once, but twice for job interviews. The first one happened over the phone on November 6 at 11 AM. The next one will happen on Nov. 27 at 8 AM.
How did I get so lucky? Such intense and amazing luck begs to be understood and examined; I'm still walking around viciously questioning how I managed to slip past the gates to get not just one, but two interviews.
A Humanities major with zero technical and mechanical skills.
I'm interviewing with one of the biggest STEM companies in the whole entire world. I know quite a few people who would kill for my slice of good fortune.
But is it really good fortune?
I read somewhere that success if 90% showing up. Trust me, I was showing up. I showed up even if I didn't know I was invited to the party.
How did I get so lucky? Such intense and amazing luck begs to be understood and examined; I'm still walking around viciously questioning how I managed to slip past the gates to get not just one, but two interviews.
A Humanities major with zero technical and mechanical skills.
I'm interviewing with one of the biggest STEM companies in the whole entire world. I know quite a few people who would kill for my slice of good fortune.
But is it really good fortune?
I read somewhere that success if 90% showing up. Trust me, I was showing up. I showed up even if I didn't know I was invited to the party.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Roster of worries
I always hear the "Rocky" theme song in my head everytime I finish an essay for work. It's my way of not going completely insane from the intense work and school schedule I imposed, rather mercilessly upon myself. You see, I'm an incurable taskmaster much like Martha Stewart. The thought of long, empty days lounging around in my PJ's scare me endlessly.
I have to work.
I must be working.
If you want to kill just tell me I'm entitled to a week of doing nothing. As of this writing I have one more post and the position paper to finish for Anthropology; one more post and research paper for Digital Diversity; three more essays for my writing class. Did I mention the semester ends on Dec. 14, 2012 and I've finished 95% of the work. I failed to mention Sociology because two days ago I finished the coursework in Sociology. Quite an achievement, considering most of my classmates were viciously emailing the professor at 11:59 last night to make sure their midterm essay made it in on time--the deadline is at midnight.
I'm worried I won't have enough to do for the next month and a half so I'm mulling over applying for a three-month editorial internship while I wait to see if I am accepted for the leadership job at Seattle Education Acess, wait to see if i got the internships job at Dream Copany and wait to see if I win any more scholarships.
I'm taking on more worries just in case my roster of worries isn't nearly enough.
I have to work.
I must be working.
If you want to kill just tell me I'm entitled to a week of doing nothing. As of this writing I have one more post and the position paper to finish for Anthropology; one more post and research paper for Digital Diversity; three more essays for my writing class. Did I mention the semester ends on Dec. 14, 2012 and I've finished 95% of the work. I failed to mention Sociology because two days ago I finished the coursework in Sociology. Quite an achievement, considering most of my classmates were viciously emailing the professor at 11:59 last night to make sure their midterm essay made it in on time--the deadline is at midnight.
I'm worried I won't have enough to do for the next month and a half so I'm mulling over applying for a three-month editorial internship while I wait to see if I am accepted for the leadership job at Seattle Education Acess, wait to see if i got the internships job at Dream Copany and wait to see if I win any more scholarships.
I'm taking on more worries just in case my roster of worries isn't nearly enough.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
A sexy, sophisticated breakfast nook
Breakfast at Smoking Monkey Pizza in DTR was fabulous, just fabulous.
I met up with a group, sight unseen, to be part of a collective restaurant critique and what fun! My group involved Jenny Manning, the Renton Patch Editor and Ira Sacharoff, prolific local food blogger and two new friends Alexis and Brian. I wanted to stay nestled in underneath my three blankets after a long arduous night of tossing and turning (I took an Anthropology exam past midnight and I can't stop obsessing over the 6 answers that I got wrong) but I was very pleased to have found the motivation to jump out of bed and drive on over.
Breakfast at Smoking Monkey is unorthodox, not the usual greasy and fatty eggs and sausage combo. Jenny ordered a goat chese fritata paired with Sourdough toast and a (spicy and exciting) fig jam. Ira had a butternut squash calzone paired with the infamous (spicy and exciting!) fig jam and marinara sauce. I tend to order the day's special which as a well-received cornmeal waffle with an over medium egg and well-salted ham. The oohing and aahing resonated loudly from our table and the owner, overachieving Gene Sens came over our table to discuss his restaurants and his future plans for a good ole fashioned diner like Geraldine's Counter and Skillet over in Seattle.
I've been burned by bad breakfast food before and I'm pleased to say that Smoking Monkey's breakfast addition to the Renton restaurant repertoire is going to be a fabulous and delicious venture. The only downside I can see is that it won't be well-received by families with kids in their party. This breakfast nook is for adults only and rightfully so--it's sexy, provocative and downright innovative.
Buon appetito!
I met up with a group, sight unseen, to be part of a collective restaurant critique and what fun! My group involved Jenny Manning, the Renton Patch Editor and Ira Sacharoff, prolific local food blogger and two new friends Alexis and Brian. I wanted to stay nestled in underneath my three blankets after a long arduous night of tossing and turning (I took an Anthropology exam past midnight and I can't stop obsessing over the 6 answers that I got wrong) but I was very pleased to have found the motivation to jump out of bed and drive on over.
Breakfast at Smoking Monkey is unorthodox, not the usual greasy and fatty eggs and sausage combo. Jenny ordered a goat chese fritata paired with Sourdough toast and a (spicy and exciting) fig jam. Ira had a butternut squash calzone paired with the infamous (spicy and exciting!) fig jam and marinara sauce. I tend to order the day's special which as a well-received cornmeal waffle with an over medium egg and well-salted ham. The oohing and aahing resonated loudly from our table and the owner, overachieving Gene Sens came over our table to discuss his restaurants and his future plans for a good ole fashioned diner like Geraldine's Counter and Skillet over in Seattle.
I've been burned by bad breakfast food before and I'm pleased to say that Smoking Monkey's breakfast addition to the Renton restaurant repertoire is going to be a fabulous and delicious venture. The only downside I can see is that it won't be well-received by families with kids in their party. This breakfast nook is for adults only and rightfully so--it's sexy, provocative and downright innovative.
Buon appetito!
Friday, October 26, 2012
Seven
Never underestimate the power of synchronicity and signs. I was at the U-District earlier during the day walking around, trying to enjoy a rainy day and there it was, a headline concerning my dream company. It was a terrible piece of news but it was about my dream company nonetheless, and not even an hour later, while I was paying up for mediocre Indian buffet lunch, one of the owners the magic numbers associated with this company.
Twilight Zone.
If there's anything at all that you need to know about me is that I have twilight zone moments almost everyday of my life. I'm a walking Twilight Zone episode.
I received an email from the Hiring Manager who shall decide my fate. It's quite a huge jump in the right direction for me. I've been trying to get a job at this company for a year now and all I've received is dead air.
Dead Air is terrible if you're looking to move up in your career.
The cue I received to check my email is when one of my Post It notes detailing eloquently all my goals for this year fell from the wall. I looked up from the incredibly arresting book that I'm reading and thought it was a sign from the universe I should look at my accounts one more time before I turn in for the night.
Lo and behold!
I see her name in my inbox and I immediately assume it's bad news. I read and it says Congratulations! off the top of the email and I'm reading so fast I could barely comprehend what they're saying.
I'm so glad I read this paradigm-shifting email pretty close to bedtime and now my heart is beating so fast I can't even think straight anymore. Good God. An internship with this company will pretty much set the stage for my future career. I set my sights pretty low thinking a liberal arts major would be cast aside in a sea of business, and engineering majors. Well, liberal arts majors are always cast aside but I refuse to take NO for an answer. I've been hearing NO my whole entire life and I've gotten pretty good at turning those NO's into a giant, resounding Yes!
Twilight Zone.
If there's anything at all that you need to know about me is that I have twilight zone moments almost everyday of my life. I'm a walking Twilight Zone episode.
I received an email from the Hiring Manager who shall decide my fate. It's quite a huge jump in the right direction for me. I've been trying to get a job at this company for a year now and all I've received is dead air.
Dead Air is terrible if you're looking to move up in your career.
The cue I received to check my email is when one of my Post It notes detailing eloquently all my goals for this year fell from the wall. I looked up from the incredibly arresting book that I'm reading and thought it was a sign from the universe I should look at my accounts one more time before I turn in for the night.
Lo and behold!
I see her name in my inbox and I immediately assume it's bad news. I read and it says Congratulations! off the top of the email and I'm reading so fast I could barely comprehend what they're saying.
I'm so glad I read this paradigm-shifting email pretty close to bedtime and now my heart is beating so fast I can't even think straight anymore. Good God. An internship with this company will pretty much set the stage for my future career. I set my sights pretty low thinking a liberal arts major would be cast aside in a sea of business, and engineering majors. Well, liberal arts majors are always cast aside but I refuse to take NO for an answer. I've been hearing NO my whole entire life and I've gotten pretty good at turning those NO's into a giant, resounding Yes!
What's for dinner?
I'm pretending to study for a quiz that I'm taking as early as tomorrow morning. I've been studying all week, I've prepared a bulletproof study guide and I'm ready for the exam to be over already. Quite frankly, I'm not a big fan of exams--written exams, I can handle, as a matter of fact, I love written or oral exams. I feel like those types of exams really show the intellectual muscle behind a student's work. Memorization, however, not a big fan.
I have an extraordinary memory by the way, but still, memorizing endless passages--just not my thing. I would much rather focus on research and writing academic papers than memorize random facts.
Most of my afternoon was spent talking to my advisor at Seattle Education Access, Dr. Polly Trout. I love being able to talk to someone (a very accomplished someone) about career choices, books, and all the random splinters embedded in my brain. She told me a Ph.D. program in the Humanities could last up to 7 years. As much as I am a fan of education, 9 more years of schooling is not something I'm particularly enthused about. You see, I have a tendency to overwork and over-exert myself and I could see taking on a Ph.D. program as the end of me, quite literally. I would shut down all my friends and just hide inside my room studying, reading and writing furiously. Oh wait, I already to that, working on my B.A.
I made the mistake of telling someone my future goals and dreams that is to leave my current industry and embark on a whole new one sight unseen. Of course, I was met with a resounding no. My once unfailing optimism to work for this fabulous company is showing its cracks. A few weeks ago I felt like I could walk into an interview and get hired on the spot, and now, with the resounding no that I received over the phone and not hearing from anyone I'm starting to re-consider my dreams.
Am I really foolish for leaving behind the industry that has fed me for 10 years?
I'm a war torn veteran in my industry and I have way more than a Purple Heart to show my tenure and that's why I'm over it. Done. Finito. Business management and leadership is one of my great passions in life and I want to continue doing so for the rest of my life. Maybe it's in my industry, maybe not. I just want to know that I have other options besides what's in front of the table right now
I have an extraordinary memory by the way, but still, memorizing endless passages--just not my thing. I would much rather focus on research and writing academic papers than memorize random facts.
Most of my afternoon was spent talking to my advisor at Seattle Education Access, Dr. Polly Trout. I love being able to talk to someone (a very accomplished someone) about career choices, books, and all the random splinters embedded in my brain. She told me a Ph.D. program in the Humanities could last up to 7 years. As much as I am a fan of education, 9 more years of schooling is not something I'm particularly enthused about. You see, I have a tendency to overwork and over-exert myself and I could see taking on a Ph.D. program as the end of me, quite literally. I would shut down all my friends and just hide inside my room studying, reading and writing furiously. Oh wait, I already to that, working on my B.A.
I made the mistake of telling someone my future goals and dreams that is to leave my current industry and embark on a whole new one sight unseen. Of course, I was met with a resounding no. My once unfailing optimism to work for this fabulous company is showing its cracks. A few weeks ago I felt like I could walk into an interview and get hired on the spot, and now, with the resounding no that I received over the phone and not hearing from anyone I'm starting to re-consider my dreams.
Am I really foolish for leaving behind the industry that has fed me for 10 years?
I'm a war torn veteran in my industry and I have way more than a Purple Heart to show my tenure and that's why I'm over it. Done. Finito. Business management and leadership is one of my great passions in life and I want to continue doing so for the rest of my life. Maybe it's in my industry, maybe not. I just want to know that I have other options besides what's in front of the table right now
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
A dream of a different life
I wonder if Captain Ahab had days when he just thought, "I just want to sleep in today. The whale will be there tomorrow." Opportunity, as we all know, is a very, very small window and I spend every day off my life breaking down walls and carving my own windows.
It's all too exhausting, of course.
I work 40 hours a week to stay competitive at my derivative job. My schoolwork keeps me up at all hours everynight. To add to all that stress, I'm transferring schools next semester where I have the freedom (freedom!) to design my own curriculum. It took me three hours to write the first draft of my own curriculum... Three long hours in a coffee shop and I'm still not happy with it.
And there's the important and rather urgent matter of getting my dream job before the end of the year. I love the company I work for, the benefits, the people... but, I've reached the point of no return. I'm not in love with my industry anymore. And for the first time since I started working at 17, I want something else for myself. A dream of a different life.
Failure. What a filthy word. I'm up all hours at night to get straight A's. I obsessively check job postings at my dream company and I'm already hatching up a plan to go to graduate school early 2014 and trying to plan how my company will pay for my spring and summer semester in college. All this planning. I feel like a general plotting warfare. Not to mention countless hours hunting down scholarship money.
I refuse to fail.
Last summer, nobody wanted to hire me as an intern. Not one company.
Right after I had an emotional breakdown over being unwanted as a lowly intern I was hired at the Governor's Office. One of the best experiences of my life and an excellent resume addition, if I may say so myself. During the course of my summer internship I was promoted to Sushi chef at work, my pay got bumped up and soon after my internship ended, I was moved up to management.
Things are wonderful in my life right now and I realized, while I was talking to a dear friend, that all these wonderful things didn't fall from the sky. I worked ridiculously hard for all of it. I worked 60 plus hours a week to make something, everything happen. I figured, I finally cracked the code to the art of making dreams come true. You don't sit around for a fairy godmother (although one would be fabulous!).. for all my tarot readings, feng shui, astrology and aura clearings... the two things that have really worked is when I put myself out there, took every opportunity in the table and made things happen.
It's all too exhausting, of course.
I work 40 hours a week to stay competitive at my derivative job. My schoolwork keeps me up at all hours everynight. To add to all that stress, I'm transferring schools next semester where I have the freedom (freedom!) to design my own curriculum. It took me three hours to write the first draft of my own curriculum... Three long hours in a coffee shop and I'm still not happy with it.
And there's the important and rather urgent matter of getting my dream job before the end of the year. I love the company I work for, the benefits, the people... but, I've reached the point of no return. I'm not in love with my industry anymore. And for the first time since I started working at 17, I want something else for myself. A dream of a different life.
Failure. What a filthy word. I'm up all hours at night to get straight A's. I obsessively check job postings at my dream company and I'm already hatching up a plan to go to graduate school early 2014 and trying to plan how my company will pay for my spring and summer semester in college. All this planning. I feel like a general plotting warfare. Not to mention countless hours hunting down scholarship money.
I refuse to fail.
Last summer, nobody wanted to hire me as an intern. Not one company.
Right after I had an emotional breakdown over being unwanted as a lowly intern I was hired at the Governor's Office. One of the best experiences of my life and an excellent resume addition, if I may say so myself. During the course of my summer internship I was promoted to Sushi chef at work, my pay got bumped up and soon after my internship ended, I was moved up to management.
Things are wonderful in my life right now and I realized, while I was talking to a dear friend, that all these wonderful things didn't fall from the sky. I worked ridiculously hard for all of it. I worked 60 plus hours a week to make something, everything happen. I figured, I finally cracked the code to the art of making dreams come true. You don't sit around for a fairy godmother (although one would be fabulous!).. for all my tarot readings, feng shui, astrology and aura clearings... the two things that have really worked is when I put myself out there, took every opportunity in the table and made things happen.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Musts
The tiredness is seeping into my body like a second thin layer of skin. Six days into my new role at work and I'm completely exhausted--physically, emotionally and spiritually. My body just wants to run around for a few miles to unload most of the splinters studded in my mind.
But I can't.
Must work.
Must go to class.
Must read this book.
Must push ahead.
My grocery list of musts is driving me insane.
I'm having trouble sleeping.
A wise man told me I should get a hobby. Easy for him to say, he has time in his hands. I don't. I work 40 hours a week. I have 12 credits in college. I'm applying viciously for an awesome internship in the summer. My job is rolling into the busy season.
I'm planning my next semester. I'm doing an independent learning program.
Must write up my program next semester.
I read about women who do way more than I do and I wonder if I'm doing enough.
Last night I ate a single serving mini cheesecake in front of my computer while powering through a class project. I'm trying to lose at least 8 pounds. I figured, I have to stop eating after 6 PM to give my body time to recharge and rest instead of burning away calories in my sleep.
But I can't. I was tired, wiped out from an excruciating day at work and a New York cheesecake is exactly what the doctor ordered.
I slept soundly last night.
But I can't.
Must work.
Must go to class.
Must read this book.
Must push ahead.
My grocery list of musts is driving me insane.
I'm having trouble sleeping.
A wise man told me I should get a hobby. Easy for him to say, he has time in his hands. I don't. I work 40 hours a week. I have 12 credits in college. I'm applying viciously for an awesome internship in the summer. My job is rolling into the busy season.
I'm planning my next semester. I'm doing an independent learning program.
Must write up my program next semester.
I read about women who do way more than I do and I wonder if I'm doing enough.
Last night I ate a single serving mini cheesecake in front of my computer while powering through a class project. I'm trying to lose at least 8 pounds. I figured, I have to stop eating after 6 PM to give my body time to recharge and rest instead of burning away calories in my sleep.
But I can't. I was tired, wiped out from an excruciating day at work and a New York cheesecake is exactly what the doctor ordered.
I slept soundly last night.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
mindless
I really should be reading one of the books I'm required to read for Sociology class. I'm a classic workaholic. I've been on paid vacation for 6 days and all I did, save for one day, is power through school work.
My brain, sufficiently exhausted from all the grueling exercise it's been working it's way through is craving simple carbohydrates. Lots of them. I'm supposed to be working on losing 8 pounds but all the brain work I've been doing is making me want to eat. Lots and lots of food.
I wanted to watch the new episode of Revenge but someone who lives in the the house I'm renting is hiding the remote. I'm wired from all the coffee I managed to suck down at the cupcake and from the sheer exhiliration I get from being ahead, way ahead of everybody with school work. I've finished the first draft of a research paper that won't be due until November 30th. The midnight of November 30th.
I've lost my darn mind.
This is where mindless TV shows come in and I can't even watch my mindless TV show.
My brain, sufficiently exhausted from all the grueling exercise it's been working it's way through is craving simple carbohydrates. Lots of them. I'm supposed to be working on losing 8 pounds but all the brain work I've been doing is making me want to eat. Lots and lots of food.
I wanted to watch the new episode of Revenge but someone who lives in the the house I'm renting is hiding the remote. I'm wired from all the coffee I managed to suck down at the cupcake and from the sheer exhiliration I get from being ahead, way ahead of everybody with school work. I've finished the first draft of a research paper that won't be due until November 30th. The midnight of November 30th.
I've lost my darn mind.
This is where mindless TV shows come in and I can't even watch my mindless TV show.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
10/10
My wish is gathering strength. I could almost hear the Northern wind building a circumference around the globe, drawing strength from the universe; waiting for a kiss from Athena, Lord Ganesha and all the deities who answer deep, dark, almost violently desired wishes of mortals.
Everywhere I turn I see manifestations of my wish falling in and around me. A pen with the company's name on it. News about the company splashed across computer screens everywhere I go. Gossip emanating from the people who work there.
This is the wish that shall not be fully mentioned. I wished and I wished to work for this company. To grow, flourish and succeed in this company. Two days ago I've started my wishing process, I wrote, I affirmed, I've been dreaming about this job for the past two nights it almost seems real to me. A 1bedroom apartment in my price range close to the company has miraculously opened up. It's as if the gods and goddesses are tickling my psyche. Yes, yes, you can have this wish only if you want it bad enough.
But I do want it. I do. I get goosebumps thinking about this place. I always have but I never allowed myself to dream that I could work there. I sit here in the library close to my new home and I see an opening for an internship at this company. I've submitted my resume for 10 internship jobs and a few minutes ago I found out they were hiring interns for people studying my "useless" major.
My hands were shaking so violently, and it still is, I didn't know how I was able to revise my resume and send it in. The job opened up yesterday. 10/10. The magical number of growth and abundance. One of my favorite numbers. In 20 days the job closes forever.
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you.
If I get this internship all of the people who have put me down for pursuing my "useless" major would have to kiss the ground I stand on. I am a writer, first of all. I am a businessperson, next. My whole life has been a struggle between these two planes but I always knew, I always knew my pursuit of writing wasn't for naught. I knew as much as I knew my instincts will never fail me that I could be homeless, poor and alone but my writing, my words will always save me.
Everywhere I turn I see manifestations of my wish falling in and around me. A pen with the company's name on it. News about the company splashed across computer screens everywhere I go. Gossip emanating from the people who work there.
This is the wish that shall not be fully mentioned. I wished and I wished to work for this company. To grow, flourish and succeed in this company. Two days ago I've started my wishing process, I wrote, I affirmed, I've been dreaming about this job for the past two nights it almost seems real to me. A 1bedroom apartment in my price range close to the company has miraculously opened up. It's as if the gods and goddesses are tickling my psyche. Yes, yes, you can have this wish only if you want it bad enough.
But I do want it. I do. I get goosebumps thinking about this place. I always have but I never allowed myself to dream that I could work there. I sit here in the library close to my new home and I see an opening for an internship at this company. I've submitted my resume for 10 internship jobs and a few minutes ago I found out they were hiring interns for people studying my "useless" major.
My hands were shaking so violently, and it still is, I didn't know how I was able to revise my resume and send it in. The job opened up yesterday. 10/10. The magical number of growth and abundance. One of my favorite numbers. In 20 days the job closes forever.
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you.
If I get this internship all of the people who have put me down for pursuing my "useless" major would have to kiss the ground I stand on. I am a writer, first of all. I am a businessperson, next. My whole life has been a struggle between these two planes but I always knew, I always knew my pursuit of writing wasn't for naught. I knew as much as I knew my instincts will never fail me that I could be homeless, poor and alone but my writing, my words will always save me.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Not near enough
I always feel like a kid slurping down a Wendy's frosty everytime I successfully finish my homework. Yes, I'm a geek. Today's HW is about digital divide in society and technology.
Compelling stuff, I tell you.
It would have been a lot easier to finish HW if I wasn't in the process of moving to a place I found in craig's list and sending someone off on an airplane headed to Tulsa, OK. So many changes in a condensed period of time. On top of it all, I'm waiting to hear word from two different scholarship committees. Winning those scholarships will pay off my semester at WSU.
My $3000.00 unpaid tuition fee is staring at me with bright, glaring eyes. I pay my bills way ahead of time, I really do but there's been a hiccup with my financial aid. I was promised $2800 and I'm only going to receive $750. I remember falling over myself in pain and grief and anguish knowing I didn't have enough cash on hand to pay for it all.
I needed to move to a new place and the deposit and buying odds and ends that make a home sucked my finances dry. I was working 50 plus hours a week but being in college and all, my hours dwindled down to 32. Not near enough.
But I still have it pretty good. The space I'm renting out is a fun, sunny place with a giant flat screen TV and cable. My commute will get slashed in half and my raise and promotion is only 2 days away.
Compelling stuff, I tell you.
It would have been a lot easier to finish HW if I wasn't in the process of moving to a place I found in craig's list and sending someone off on an airplane headed to Tulsa, OK. So many changes in a condensed period of time. On top of it all, I'm waiting to hear word from two different scholarship committees. Winning those scholarships will pay off my semester at WSU.
My $3000.00 unpaid tuition fee is staring at me with bright, glaring eyes. I pay my bills way ahead of time, I really do but there's been a hiccup with my financial aid. I was promised $2800 and I'm only going to receive $750. I remember falling over myself in pain and grief and anguish knowing I didn't have enough cash on hand to pay for it all.
I needed to move to a new place and the deposit and buying odds and ends that make a home sucked my finances dry. I was working 50 plus hours a week but being in college and all, my hours dwindled down to 32. Not near enough.
But I still have it pretty good. The space I'm renting out is a fun, sunny place with a giant flat screen TV and cable. My commute will get slashed in half and my raise and promotion is only 2 days away.
Monday, October 1, 2012
moving in day
Today is supposed to be moving in day in a house in Bellevue. But I got two calls from 2 different places and now I'm not sure where to go. Landlord #1 is unprofessional in the sense that he never picks up his phone and Landlord #2 is planning on changing jobs soon so her super cheap rents might not be too super cheap after all.
It would be easier to make up a decision if I knew where I'm going to work in the next few months. I'm headed for a giant promotion in a few months and investing in an apartment because I might have to move for work or for school.
It would be easier to make up a decision if I knew where I'm going to work in the next few months. I'm headed for a giant promotion in a few months and investing in an apartment because I might have to move for work or for school.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
shameless self promotion
Ruzielle Ganuelas
By Ruzielle Ganuelas
I was born and raised in the Philippines and migrated to the US at the age of 17 after a year of college in an ivy league university. I received my Associate Degree from Seattle Central Community College with a Phi Theta Kappa Honor's Society distinction and was a Dean's List awardee. I was recently accepted to Washington State University for a Bachelor's of Arts in Humanities and English. I was also awarded the Allied Students Washington State University $2000 Scholarship for the 2012-2013 school year and the first annual recipient of the American Advertising Federation's Seattle Silver Medal Scholarship worth $2500. I work at PCC Natural Markets Issaquah as a Deli Lead and Sushi Chef.
OEO Communications Intern
"I am passionate about educational advocacy, philanthropy, creative non-fiction, and holistic healing."
By Ruzielle Ganuelas
I am passionate about educational advocacy, philanthropy, creative non-fiction, and holistic healing.
Recently I started volunteering and will soon intern for the Seattle Education Access Group which provides scholarships, academic advising and mentoring for low-income and disadvantaged college-age students.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
my balance
My balance, or lack therof... How do I find balance in my life when it looks like there's none to be had. My internship ended on Friday without a fuss and I'm grateful (so grateful) for the experience and I'm happy too for the time that it unclogged for my work-school-social life schedule.
I'm taking four classes and really, it shouldn't be this difficult. But I'm running on fumes from the endless barrage of homework, reading, work and social commitments.
How do I find balance?
I'm taking four classes and really, it shouldn't be this difficult. But I'm running on fumes from the endless barrage of homework, reading, work and social commitments.
How do I find balance?
Sunday, August 26, 2012
scholarship: SEA chapter
Almost two hours ago I stepped out of the office of the Seattle Education Access close to the UW campus. I came in begging for school money--$2023.00 to be exact and I left with smeared eyeliner and a rejuvenated passion for school, learning and success.
Part of the interview was discussing the gnarly bits that go into a student's life like my meager earnings, educational goals and what I plan to do when I graduate. Big, giant questions I know considering I could barely answer the simple "how science relates to technology?" homework essay in my Sociology class much less answer Big, Giant questions like what do I need to succeed in my educational goals?
Unfortunately, going to school isn't just about getting good grades and turning in your homework on time. There's finances to worry about, going to work, relationships that need to be addressed and other things that get in the way of getting your diploma.
Mentors.
I told the scholarship committee I need mentorship in my life in order to accomplish my goals and I wasn't getting any. Other than Mr. Big of course. I suppose I need the mentorship of women in my life and if things go as planned, maybe I can be a mentor to somebody else too.
And as an aside, I received an email from the Linda Lael Scholarship for Women that they've received my scholarship application.
All I have to say is, bring it on.
Part of the interview was discussing the gnarly bits that go into a student's life like my meager earnings, educational goals and what I plan to do when I graduate. Big, giant questions I know considering I could barely answer the simple "how science relates to technology?" homework essay in my Sociology class much less answer Big, Giant questions like what do I need to succeed in my educational goals?
Unfortunately, going to school isn't just about getting good grades and turning in your homework on time. There's finances to worry about, going to work, relationships that need to be addressed and other things that get in the way of getting your diploma.
Mentors.
I told the scholarship committee I need mentorship in my life in order to accomplish my goals and I wasn't getting any. Other than Mr. Big of course. I suppose I need the mentorship of women in my life and if things go as planned, maybe I can be a mentor to somebody else too.
And as an aside, I received an email from the Linda Lael Scholarship for Women that they've received my scholarship application.
All I have to say is, bring it on.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
taste of disappointment
I read "The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake" last summer and I vaguely remembered thinking how incredibly isolating it must feel to taste the feelings of the cook who prepared your food and the farmer who harvested the raw materials.
Once again I went to Chipotle for dinner. I ordered the chicken bowl--grain fed, antibiotic free chicken, organic guacamole and salsa, five star chilies, brown rice and black beans. I took one bite and more until I ate a quarter of my meal. I dipped my tortillao chips in my guacamole and I pushed it away.
My meal tasted of relationship disappointment and love turning into grief on yet another cloud day in downtown Bellevue.
Once again I went to Chipotle for dinner. I ordered the chicken bowl--grain fed, antibiotic free chicken, organic guacamole and salsa, five star chilies, brown rice and black beans. I took one bite and more until I ate a quarter of my meal. I dipped my tortillao chips in my guacamole and I pushed it away.
My meal tasted of relationship disappointment and love turning into grief on yet another cloud day in downtown Bellevue.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
now this is a true Oscar moment...
Hello Ruzielle,
Thank you for your submitting your application for the AAF Silver
Medal Scholarship. My apologies for the slow response to your inquiry about our
selection decision. And also for the delay in the selection process itself. Our
selection was delayed due to the vacation plans of members of the selection
committee.
I am extremely pleased to inform you that AAF Seattle has chosen
you as the recipient of this year's Silver Medal Scholarship!
Your application demonstrated a unique combination of scholastic
excellence, a lifetime of hard work and the clear evidence of your creative
talents as a writer and chef. These qualities made you a clear choice for
our scholarship selection committee.
AAF Seattle is very happy and excited for you to begin your time
at WSU. And it's our pleasure to present you with a scholarship grant of
$1,500.00 that you can use toward your education expenses this coming year.
Please respond to me and let me know the correct address to which
we should send your scholarship check.
Congratulations and Good Luck!
George Riddell
Secretary
| AAF Seattle
(206)-696-5195
I'm popping a champagne bottle as I write...
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Keeping still
The I-Ching has spoken: keep still. As a woman of constant motion I find it hard to keep this advice close to heart. Keep still. What does that mean? I've heard some not-so-good news last Friday which threatened to collapse my delicate ecosystem of planning and clearing up my calendar to accomodate my new life. My instinct was to cancel everything. Everything. Cancel everything and start all over. But that morning I got an email from my friend The Psychic telling me about her psychic fair in her shop in Renton. I've been carefully moving away from divinity tools because I feel like I use them too much as a shield against this disappointing world we live in.
After the disappointing news, I needed to hear from the sages on which step to take. I have a tendency to be a freaker-outer and my instinct to cancel everything I've been planning on for months and months just seems cowardly. The I-Ching lady confirmed my thoughts and even helped give me some relief over all my overriding fears and phobias. Keep still. Pick up hatha yoga or meditation. Anything that will calm my scaredy cat nerves.
After the disappointing news, I needed to hear from the sages on which step to take. I have a tendency to be a freaker-outer and my instinct to cancel everything I've been planning on for months and months just seems cowardly. The I-Ching lady confirmed my thoughts and even helped give me some relief over all my overriding fears and phobias. Keep still. Pick up hatha yoga or meditation. Anything that will calm my scaredy cat nerves.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
queen of wands
This time last year I just started working as a deli assistant in a mom and pop shop in Bellevue near the 520 bridge. I had recently quit my overly strenuous and stressful job in a huff and I was killing time by picking up shifts for an out-of-venue catering company based in Renton. My job search had been nothing but successful. Even with 7 years management and supervisory positions in the restaurant industry I could not find a job. No calls even. I'm a woman of constant motion and full capacity momentum--two weeks of unemployment is not in my tarot cards, or at least I refuse to see unemployment in my deck.
Madonna and I have the same dosha--the scorched earth, running around with our hair on fire dosha--the toxic yet unstoppable Vata Pitta combo. I like to remind myself Madonna is Madonna because she is a Vata Pitta and I remind myself being a Vata Pitta is something to be proud of, like being a Virgo and having a retirement account in your 20's.
So there I was, breathing fire and throwing fire balls into the air with no place to burn it all off. My period of unemployment and stagnant energy was killing my insides--I needed to find a job and quick before I start setting things on fire, literally. Just when I've decided I was completely unemployable I got an interview and was hired the next day. My hourly rate was down 50 cents, my commute upped to almost an hour in the heat of rush hour traffic and my job title... It was supposed to be a Deli Lead in Training but by the time my 30 days rolled around, I realized I was still a barista and my promised raise wasn't going to happen.
My perpetual unhappiness was assuaged by working insane hours. It was a balm to my empty soul. I worked 40 hours at the cafe and I worked at focus groups, paid surveys, a movie set for a while and picked up catering shifts all over town. When I do have downtime, I load up on books at the library and burn through stacks of books and going home every night staring outside my window--the heat emanating from my skin could power a Prius.
"It burns, burns, burns, ring of fire"
I was singing this song constantly not as an homage to Johnny Cash but because I felt like I had this fire burning away in my insides with no place to go. My tarot cards revealed nothing but wands and wands. Queen of Wands, the Fire Queen, she was always beside me, always next to me and I felt her everywhere I went. This was around the time I started eating fiery, spicy food. Once, I went to a Mexican restaurant and I ate a whole roasted jalapeno. I cried involuntary tears but I kept coming back, upping my spice tolerance. I kept telling myself it was my body's way of fighting my eternal sugar tooth. My body wanted to cure itself of its addiction to saccahrine. But I just wanted the heat, the spice and the warmth that lives underneath my skin.
Around this time I learned how to bake. I craved the intense heat of a professional kitchen's double convection oven blasting in my face, melting my perfect eyeliner. Employees at the corporate park gorged on my lemon bars and cake-like chocolate chip cookies. I delighted in watching people feed on my pastries; I felt like Vianne Rocher, only with luminous lemon bars.
Madonna and I have the same dosha--the scorched earth, running around with our hair on fire dosha--the toxic yet unstoppable Vata Pitta combo. I like to remind myself Madonna is Madonna because she is a Vata Pitta and I remind myself being a Vata Pitta is something to be proud of, like being a Virgo and having a retirement account in your 20's.
So there I was, breathing fire and throwing fire balls into the air with no place to burn it all off. My period of unemployment and stagnant energy was killing my insides--I needed to find a job and quick before I start setting things on fire, literally. Just when I've decided I was completely unemployable I got an interview and was hired the next day. My hourly rate was down 50 cents, my commute upped to almost an hour in the heat of rush hour traffic and my job title... It was supposed to be a Deli Lead in Training but by the time my 30 days rolled around, I realized I was still a barista and my promised raise wasn't going to happen.
My perpetual unhappiness was assuaged by working insane hours. It was a balm to my empty soul. I worked 40 hours at the cafe and I worked at focus groups, paid surveys, a movie set for a while and picked up catering shifts all over town. When I do have downtime, I load up on books at the library and burn through stacks of books and going home every night staring outside my window--the heat emanating from my skin could power a Prius.
"It burns, burns, burns, ring of fire"
I was singing this song constantly not as an homage to Johnny Cash but because I felt like I had this fire burning away in my insides with no place to go. My tarot cards revealed nothing but wands and wands. Queen of Wands, the Fire Queen, she was always beside me, always next to me and I felt her everywhere I went. This was around the time I started eating fiery, spicy food. Once, I went to a Mexican restaurant and I ate a whole roasted jalapeno. I cried involuntary tears but I kept coming back, upping my spice tolerance. I kept telling myself it was my body's way of fighting my eternal sugar tooth. My body wanted to cure itself of its addiction to saccahrine. But I just wanted the heat, the spice and the warmth that lives underneath my skin.
Around this time I learned how to bake. I craved the intense heat of a professional kitchen's double convection oven blasting in my face, melting my perfect eyeliner. Employees at the corporate park gorged on my lemon bars and cake-like chocolate chip cookies. I delighted in watching people feed on my pastries; I felt like Vianne Rocher, only with luminous lemon bars.
mercury retrograde
we must be on mercury retrograde, at least it feels like that in my life. i'm waiting to hear from three scholarship giving bodies, the person who wants to buy the house i'm selling, my advisor about my my credits, an award giving body that sent me an email sking for my bio and photo for a possible award.
on the other hand, work doesn't seem to be on mercury retrograde. i got three different calls from three places who are wanting to give me cash for work. normally i would jump and down when i get a call or an email about an opportunity to make money but i'm officially burned out. i've been working 50-60 hours for over a year now and no matter how many calls i get to pick up shifts here and there i just can't do it.
my pitta vata energy has officially burned itself out.
on the other hand, work doesn't seem to be on mercury retrograde. i got three different calls from three places who are wanting to give me cash for work. normally i would jump and down when i get a call or an email about an opportunity to make money but i'm officially burned out. i've been working 50-60 hours for over a year now and no matter how many calls i get to pick up shifts here and there i just can't do it.
my pitta vata energy has officially burned itself out.
Monday, August 6, 2012
my oscar moment
Date: Mon, 6 Aug 2012 22:03:31
To: XXXX
Subject: RE: Nomination
Hi Jeannie,
Thanks for your nomination! Could you ask Ms. Ganuelas to send us her bio and photo?
--------
Mei Lau(Kay)
Northwest Asian Weekly | Seattle Chinese Post
Northwest Asian Weekly Foundation | Women of Color Empowered
412 Maynard Ave. S. | Seattle, WA 98104
P. 206-223-0623 | F. 206-223-0626 | rsvp@nwasianweekly.com
-----Original Message-----
From: XXXX
Sent: Friday, July 27, 2012 7:18 AM
To: Rsvp NW Asian Weekly
Subject: Nomination
I would like to nominate Ruzielle Ganuelas. I have known her for several years now and find her to be someone that I value as a friend even more than a customer though she is highly valued as both. She is a stolid member of our community (the community at large as well as specifically women of color). When I heard of this award, she was the first person who came to mind. She is hard working, giving more than her share to her employers, family and friends - for instance, always seeking to make sure the company as well as the customers/clients get the very best - even above and beyond their expectations (even at times when (I feel) she has been discriminated against)! I have also seen her donate generously to worthy causes and volunteer her spare time to help others. In the rigorous schedule she keeps I don't know where she even FINDS "spare" time (and she always seems so calm and unhurried). She is an inspiration to ME (and I'm an old, white business owner) with her personal values, her work ethic, and her compassion, providing a fabulous example of a human being for those around her to look up to and pattern their lives after.
I apologize for the length of this "short" paragraph but short isn't long enough to express my admiration for this lady.
I hope you may find your way clear to find her as worthy as I see her to receive your prestigious award.
Thank you for your consideration.
Jeannie Keyes, owner
The Venus Moon
Renton, WA
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
-----
No virus found in this message.
Checked by AVG - www.avg.com
Version: 10.0.1424 / Virus Database: 2437/5181 - Release Date: 08/06/12
To: XXXX
Subject: RE: Nomination
Hi Jeannie,
Thanks for your nomination! Could you ask Ms. Ganuelas to send us her bio and photo?
--------
Mei Lau(Kay)
Northwest Asian Weekly | Seattle Chinese Post
Northwest Asian Weekly Foundation | Women of Color Empowered
412 Maynard Ave. S. | Seattle, WA 98104
P. 206-223-0623 | F. 206-223-0626 | rsvp@nwasianweekly.com
-----Original Message-----
From: XXXX
Sent: Friday, July 27, 2012 7:18 AM
To: Rsvp NW Asian Weekly
Subject: Nomination
I would like to nominate Ruzielle Ganuelas. I have known her for several years now and find her to be someone that I value as a friend even more than a customer though she is highly valued as both. She is a stolid member of our community (the community at large as well as specifically women of color). When I heard of this award, she was the first person who came to mind. She is hard working, giving more than her share to her employers, family and friends - for instance, always seeking to make sure the company as well as the customers/clients get the very best - even above and beyond their expectations (even at times when (I feel) she has been discriminated against)! I have also seen her donate generously to worthy causes and volunteer her spare time to help others. In the rigorous schedule she keeps I don't know where she even FINDS "spare" time (and she always seems so calm and unhurried). She is an inspiration to ME (and I'm an old, white business owner) with her personal values, her work ethic, and her compassion, providing a fabulous example of a human being for those around her to look up to and pattern their lives after.
I apologize for the length of this "short" paragraph but short isn't long enough to express my admiration for this lady.
I hope you may find your way clear to find her as worthy as I see her to receive your prestigious award.
Thank you for your consideration.
Jeannie Keyes, owner
The Venus Moon
Renton, WA
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
-----
No virus found in this message.
Checked by AVG - www.avg.com
Version: 10.0.1424 / Virus Database: 2437/5181 - Release Date: 08/06/12
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
red letter day
I was inspired by the words of an Olympian a month ago when she was featured in Vogue. She said she's envisioned her success for so long when it finally happened to her she didn't feel anything. My successes in life, obviously are not of the Olympian kind, but I knew what it was like to envision something and achieve and when it happens you expect a mariachi band to show up and celebrate with you but all you could think about is, "wow. this is great. okay, i gotta do laundry now." I'm not trying to be cryptic but there's a part of me that's afraid the good luck would melt away if I spoke those words aloud. I won a $2000 scholarship from WSU for the whole year. Well, almost a whole year. $1000 free and clear when school starts and another $1000 if I maintain my GPA. Just a few hours before receiving my award, I opened my pay stub and found out I received a $2.20 raise. Kind of a big deal considering I can't remember the last time I received a pay raise at work. No wait, it's about 3 boyfriends ago which makes that around 4-5 years ago. I kind of sat there and read my letters over and over again. I keep waiting for the fireworks display but all I got was nothing.
"..."
My vision of winning the scholarship and getting that raise was so strong and vivid that when it happened I almost had an entitlement to it. I felt like it was something that was bound to happen, no matter what. It's so cosmic I'm almost afraid of it. Like I have my own innate powers to mold and mend my life at will. So what is next?
"..."
My vision of winning the scholarship and getting that raise was so strong and vivid that when it happened I almost had an entitlement to it. I felt like it was something that was bound to happen, no matter what. It's so cosmic I'm almost afraid of it. Like I have my own innate powers to mold and mend my life at will. So what is next?
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Logistics of failure (part one)
The winds of change are moving in and around me again, relentless and abrasive--dancing and beating its arms like a wailing woman.
Earlier during the day I went to an interview, or a "formal chat" as the office called it. I went in fully understanding I'm going back to my car an hour later deflated and helpless. This internship is a huge deal, at least for me anyway. I've been looking for an internship since April? May? Maybe even March... Not quite so sure anymore, I've been rejected so much I don't even want to think about the logistics of my failure. Nobody wants to read the geography of their incompleteness, the map of their inabilities.
Started off on the right footing, applying everywhere I can, dusted off the old resume, beefed up my writing, communications, sales whatever experience and sent it out to the world. To absolutely no avail, of course. In the meantime, I stared at the potato salad and the cold noodles at work and put away food containers and swept the floors and felt so shamed and alone it was a miracle I didn't die of humiliation while cutting yet another slab of meat.
I didn't tell anyone about the interview, I've grown tired of being so happy, so happy for a bright future that's going to go dark on me without notice. The first resume I sent out was a marketing internship for a socially conscious company that aims to reach out to the Asian, specifically Southeast Asian community. The summer was supposed to be spent educating the Asian community about environmental practices, sustainability and the green movement. Must speak a Southeast Asian language such as Tagalog. Cool... I speak/read/write/dream in Tagalog, I'm the queen of the green movement, I work for an organic co-op! I'm in!
... And nothing, not even a polite "we regret to inform you.." awkward email. When I do get an interview I was wearing my brand new Nordstrom pant suit and I felt and looked fabulous. It's tough not to look fabulous when you're wearing something crisp and looks like money stitched all over lapels and the seams.
Earlier during the day I went to an interview, or a "formal chat" as the office called it. I went in fully understanding I'm going back to my car an hour later deflated and helpless. This internship is a huge deal, at least for me anyway. I've been looking for an internship since April? May? Maybe even March... Not quite so sure anymore, I've been rejected so much I don't even want to think about the logistics of my failure. Nobody wants to read the geography of their incompleteness, the map of their inabilities.
Started off on the right footing, applying everywhere I can, dusted off the old resume, beefed up my writing, communications, sales whatever experience and sent it out to the world. To absolutely no avail, of course. In the meantime, I stared at the potato salad and the cold noodles at work and put away food containers and swept the floors and felt so shamed and alone it was a miracle I didn't die of humiliation while cutting yet another slab of meat.
I didn't tell anyone about the interview, I've grown tired of being so happy, so happy for a bright future that's going to go dark on me without notice. The first resume I sent out was a marketing internship for a socially conscious company that aims to reach out to the Asian, specifically Southeast Asian community. The summer was supposed to be spent educating the Asian community about environmental practices, sustainability and the green movement. Must speak a Southeast Asian language such as Tagalog. Cool... I speak/read/write/dream in Tagalog, I'm the queen of the green movement, I work for an organic co-op! I'm in!
... And nothing, not even a polite "we regret to inform you.." awkward email. When I do get an interview I was wearing my brand new Nordstrom pant suit and I felt and looked fabulous. It's tough not to look fabulous when you're wearing something crisp and looks like money stitched all over lapels and the seams.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
What do you wear when... (une)
What do you wear when your life is about to change forever?
I heard Stacey London ask this almost cosmic question this morning as I was getting ready for work. If there's anything anybody needs to know about me is this: my life is a never ending series of cosmic events. I'm one of those annoying people who experience synchronicity, coincidences, deja vu, prophetic dreams, past life remembrance and other weird new age crap. But this story is for another day...
Let's start with a crisp Nordstrom dark blue almost black pants and a crisp jacket. Underneath is a white short sleeved blouse with a ruffled tuxedo front and very short, fitted sleeve and paired with a conservative yet stylish black pumps and a purple Coach handbag--the perfect outfit for my dream job/internship which hopefully turns into my dream career.
A few days ago I went to a discount chain store in search of easy summer shorts but found two beautiful dresses instead. My style goal for the past two months has been to dress exactly the opposite of how I normally dress which isn't saying much, quite frankly. I save dresses and heels for very, very special occasions like going to see the ballet. If I'm going to spend $60 on entertainment I might as well look nice. The dress is something I've seen on a fashion magazine before but at a steep discount of course. It falls on my knees, hugs my body close enough and opens up at the right places. And it's black. One of my go-to colors for clothing and accessories. I would have wanted the same dress in mustard or turquiose--a happy color in the spectrum but this one looked oh so lovely.
I haven't quiet figured out why out of all the colors in the Crayola box black and I make the most sense. My natural tendency is to be sullen and morose: I'm Wednesday Addams at 27, underemployed and views life as one giant turd bath.
The open-toed patent leather pumps I bought next door from another discount chain store is literally my little black dress' one true love. This is the kind of pairing that begs to be taken out to dinner at Purple or some fabulous restaurant in the Eastside.
I heard Stacey London ask this almost cosmic question this morning as I was getting ready for work. If there's anything anybody needs to know about me is this: my life is a never ending series of cosmic events. I'm one of those annoying people who experience synchronicity, coincidences, deja vu, prophetic dreams, past life remembrance and other weird new age crap. But this story is for another day...
Let's start with a crisp Nordstrom dark blue almost black pants and a crisp jacket. Underneath is a white short sleeved blouse with a ruffled tuxedo front and very short, fitted sleeve and paired with a conservative yet stylish black pumps and a purple Coach handbag--the perfect outfit for my dream job/internship which hopefully turns into my dream career.
A few days ago I went to a discount chain store in search of easy summer shorts but found two beautiful dresses instead. My style goal for the past two months has been to dress exactly the opposite of how I normally dress which isn't saying much, quite frankly. I save dresses and heels for very, very special occasions like going to see the ballet. If I'm going to spend $60 on entertainment I might as well look nice. The dress is something I've seen on a fashion magazine before but at a steep discount of course. It falls on my knees, hugs my body close enough and opens up at the right places. And it's black. One of my go-to colors for clothing and accessories. I would have wanted the same dress in mustard or turquiose--a happy color in the spectrum but this one looked oh so lovely.
I haven't quiet figured out why out of all the colors in the Crayola box black and I make the most sense. My natural tendency is to be sullen and morose: I'm Wednesday Addams at 27, underemployed and views life as one giant turd bath.
The open-toed patent leather pumps I bought next door from another discount chain store is literally my little black dress' one true love. This is the kind of pairing that begs to be taken out to dinner at Purple or some fabulous restaurant in the Eastside.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Wheel of Fortune
I can see my life in my mind's eye as a patent leather clutch handbag with a golden chain handle, ripped from the seams, the contents dumped in a compacter, the outside skin refurbished, the color made new and a shiny new price tag attached. I've donated most of my clothes and my well curated book collection, my hair has grown long and my tarot cards long put away (save for one, my favorite child). I can't remember when I last went to a cafe to read, waste away an afternoon absorbing the beauty of being young and molding time into my hands as I see fit. My social calendar is surprisingly full and yet my time with friends has dwindled to almost nothing.
In a tarot deck the Wheel of Fortune is the harbinger of luck, good or bad and the changing wind. Two days in a row I've pulled the Wheel of Fortune card and I feel like the cards are trying to tell me something. More change? More well-worn ideas floating away against their will? I shuffle my cards to a gloss and my present and my future lives are nothing but a messy soup of conflict and joy.
I wish someone could see the view from my room. A pack of old growth trees not unlike the trees from the forests of the Twilight movie. In the morning the children from the montessori school wake me a lot earlier than I care for, but surely I should get up on my days off a lot earlier than ten in the morning like normal people do. I should get my exercise out of the way and run some errands I've been putting off like getting my car cleaned and buying a new pair of work shoes. It's impossible to remember I'm not a silly debutante and all these could go away.
The new clothes, gas in my car, my living quarters and all these fabulous wine-soaked dinners... It's all a gift, you see. All of these is a wonderful three-month old gift that I keep unwrapping over and over. A few years ago I wished for this kind of life. I was gardening and I took off my shoes to feel the earth on my feet and I wished for a better life. I wanted the silly debutante's life and it was a secret I kept underneath my black shirts, torn pants and Lara Croft boots.
In a tarot deck the Wheel of Fortune is the harbinger of luck, good or bad and the changing wind. Two days in a row I've pulled the Wheel of Fortune card and I feel like the cards are trying to tell me something. More change? More well-worn ideas floating away against their will? I shuffle my cards to a gloss and my present and my future lives are nothing but a messy soup of conflict and joy.
I wish someone could see the view from my room. A pack of old growth trees not unlike the trees from the forests of the Twilight movie. In the morning the children from the montessori school wake me a lot earlier than I care for, but surely I should get up on my days off a lot earlier than ten in the morning like normal people do. I should get my exercise out of the way and run some errands I've been putting off like getting my car cleaned and buying a new pair of work shoes. It's impossible to remember I'm not a silly debutante and all these could go away.
The new clothes, gas in my car, my living quarters and all these fabulous wine-soaked dinners... It's all a gift, you see. All of these is a wonderful three-month old gift that I keep unwrapping over and over. A few years ago I wished for this kind of life. I was gardening and I took off my shoes to feel the earth on my feet and I wished for a better life. I wanted the silly debutante's life and it was a secret I kept underneath my black shirts, torn pants and Lara Croft boots.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
A singular life
Nutella dipped strawberries are the best part of my work day and I daydream of the time I get to sit down and slice my organic fruit and slather European chocolate all over the perfect ruby slivers. If I wasn't at work, I would have a glass of Prosecco on a frosted flute and read the latest book I've borrowed from the library (a non-negotiable in my life) and dream and dream...
I long for a singular life--where my days and hours are free to roam upon each nook and cranny of time's landscape. But my planning book is filled with scribbles and my mental calendar crammed with lunches with my boyfriend, dinners with my boyfriend and all the menial, physical hours I work at my place of employment and in between I crave the noise of a page turning in my book, the loudness of the chaos of my own thoughts and just watch the steady dismantling of my old life.
Until recently I lived in the family home until I could no longer hold the title of family caregiver. In my culture that title is reserved for the unmarried women of the household with no prospects in sight. I've put my own schooling and career on hold to care for my mom who was afflicted with cancer and my teenage sister who was pregnant right after her high school graduation. I was given the job of the good child who was to stay at home and keep the good family name from tarnishing and giving in to rust. Until recently, of course.
I've made peace with becoming a very young spinster and living the spinster's life: singular dinners, afternoons at the playground with my nephew and other people's children and if I'm able to sneak away--a cafe mocha bianco and a crisp copy of New York Times at a good friend's coffee bar. But a man came along, of course, and he blowtorched his way into my solitude. He was the King of the Wands all the psychics have been telling me to look out for--the tarot card that warms and burns all at once.
I long for a singular life--where my days and hours are free to roam upon each nook and cranny of time's landscape. But my planning book is filled with scribbles and my mental calendar crammed with lunches with my boyfriend, dinners with my boyfriend and all the menial, physical hours I work at my place of employment and in between I crave the noise of a page turning in my book, the loudness of the chaos of my own thoughts and just watch the steady dismantling of my old life.
Until recently I lived in the family home until I could no longer hold the title of family caregiver. In my culture that title is reserved for the unmarried women of the household with no prospects in sight. I've put my own schooling and career on hold to care for my mom who was afflicted with cancer and my teenage sister who was pregnant right after her high school graduation. I was given the job of the good child who was to stay at home and keep the good family name from tarnishing and giving in to rust. Until recently, of course.
I've made peace with becoming a very young spinster and living the spinster's life: singular dinners, afternoons at the playground with my nephew and other people's children and if I'm able to sneak away--a cafe mocha bianco and a crisp copy of New York Times at a good friend's coffee bar. But a man came along, of course, and he blowtorched his way into my solitude. He was the King of the Wands all the psychics have been telling me to look out for--the tarot card that warms and burns all at once.
rain
Perhaps we both dreamt of rain,
somewhere between my sleep
and your waking.
A fated meeting bound by elements.
We close our eyes,
open them as they seem favored,
see the clouds open to an embrace
and leaves of rain fall upon us.
A fusion of black and white,
gray tears translucent as pain.
somewhere between my sleep
and your waking.
A fated meeting bound by elements.
We close our eyes,
open them as they seem favored,
see the clouds open to an embrace
and leaves of rain fall upon us.
A fusion of black and white,
gray tears translucent as pain.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Forlorn
Forlorn
(For C.)
I remember the last time I saw you,
the sunset took too long to leave
and deaf stars waited patiently.
Your footsteps were paper boats
leaving an empty creek.
The scratches of the slow manner,
I signed my letters with goodbye
weave a blanket of tears against the earth.
A cross burnt deep with memories
fell on my forehead.
A symbol of purity you held
like the stars in your wrists.
I am dizzy for you these days.
Champagne and chocolate milk swirl around you.
My eyelashes are yours, our fingertips fold neatly
like love letter you never wrote.
I witnessed the sadness of this life.
A broken Venus
crossed the stomach of your universe.
Maybe tomorrow
the cracks in the amber sky would dance,
impregnate the breathless spacxe
you've torn in the world.
Liquid moons shine against my cheek.
Words find their way in my silence to tell you
how the wind sounds like on a dying porch.
*published in Women's Forum, Seattle Central Community College. Winter 2005.
(For C.)
I remember the last time I saw you,
the sunset took too long to leave
and deaf stars waited patiently.
Your footsteps were paper boats
leaving an empty creek.
The scratches of the slow manner,
I signed my letters with goodbye
weave a blanket of tears against the earth.
A cross burnt deep with memories
fell on my forehead.
A symbol of purity you held
like the stars in your wrists.
I am dizzy for you these days.
Champagne and chocolate milk swirl around you.
My eyelashes are yours, our fingertips fold neatly
like love letter you never wrote.
I witnessed the sadness of this life.
A broken Venus
crossed the stomach of your universe.
Maybe tomorrow
the cracks in the amber sky would dance,
impregnate the breathless spacxe
you've torn in the world.
Liquid moons shine against my cheek.
Words find their way in my silence to tell you
how the wind sounds like on a dying porch.
*published in Women's Forum, Seattle Central Community College. Winter 2005.
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