win win win.

i saw Seven Pounds yesterday.

Rosario Dawson is gorgeous =]




will smith is cool too, hah.

but anyway... it was a pretty cool movie... and even though i could totally tell what was going to happen, it was still good. pretty sad too =[

worth $10.50

girl's night out.

so.. today at work, we had our first "girl's night out." All the female staff members (there's 5 of us) went out with the 5th and 6th grade girls to the mall/movies. it was pretty fun... and interesting. lol. but anyway... we ended up watching Twilight with the kids. prior to tonight, i really had no interest in watching it... but, it actually ended up being better than i thought it would. I can't say that i think it's a "great movie," because, well, frankly i don't think it is... but there are certain aspects about it that i really did like.

We all know that when it comes to reading books or watching movies, the reader (or viewer) intreprets things differently than someone else... we all see our own little stories within the story that's actually written... so... i totally saw things in that movie that probably don't even tie into it all... but they did for me. hah. lol.



i like this part (you can barely see it though, i know the video's crappy but it's the only one i could find)... the vampire guy and the girl have their first kiss..and it starts getting all passionate or what not.. and it LOOKS like the kissing about to lead to touching... and eventually sex, but RIGHT when it seems like it's really starting to pass the boundary line of kissing for love and kissing for lust, he STOPS. he forces himself to and says "i can never lose control over you." ... he says that he's "stronger than he thought," implying that it takes STRENGTH to have self control. then he goes on to half sitting up half laying next to her in bed, and TALKING to her, having a CONVERSATION with her. he's close to her, but there's no sex. and i just loved that. it shows self-control and true relationship development. THAT's how you get closer to someone, you TALK to them, and have CONVERSATIONS with them... you hold off on the sex part until you actually KNOW eachother pretty well and have BEEN THROUGH things together. you don't just rush into it.

it's like... the whole movie can be intrepreted like that. it's about this family (of vampires) that restrain themselves from "being evil monsters." ... they train themselves to stop doing something that they love and yearn for because they know the outcome of it is really bad (killing people.) and it's like... a message telling us that we should learn to restrain ourselves from things that cause pain or negative energy to ourselves and those around us. This family puts THEIR OWN values before the values and ways of their species... they stray away from the "norm" of their species in order to make a positive change for themselves.

haha, anyway... i feel like i'm going to start going off on a tangent here... so i'll end it here.

<3

with WIDTH comes no DEPTH.

mmmm... i had a conversation with a friend last night.

it started out talking about church and my faith. she's the main leader for the youth ministry i volunteer for... and i had told her that i no longer feel as though i should be a leader for the ministry because i feel that i'm there for the wrong reasons. for selfish reasons. i've been struggling with and questioning my faith for almost a year now.. and it's like... how can i minister to these kids when i don't even know what i believe in? it's like offering someone dinner when you don't even have any food to give. so anyway... we started talking about why i don't believe anymore... and all that.. but... somehow we got to the point where i confessed another one of my biggest fears/obstacles. I've known it to be a problem for quite some time now.. but i never said it outloud until last night =/

basically. i'm scared of commitment (to almost ANYTHING) and concrete ideas. it's like.. i use to be so stuck on God and on Church... on Jesus and Catholicism.. because of my Confirmation class i started going to junior year.. it was a NEW faith for me.. it was a NEW way of thinking and living.. i was LEARNING.. and i love learning. but you know, to make a long story short, 3 years pass... and i'm presented with NEW ideas, other NEW ways of thinking and living. I got scared. I started asking myself, what if Catholicism is bad? what if it's just NOT for me? i was exposed to a few wonderfully amazing people (some Catholic, and others not), and i started thinking about the NONcatholics who were amazing... i figured, if they're so wonderful and so happy WITHOUT being Catholic, maybe i could be too. I'm scared of making the wrong choices and decisions. I was scared of devoting my life to this faith at such a young age.. i didn't want to be "stuck" on that way of life... It's like.. i wanna expose myself to A WHOLE BUNCH of different ideologies and ways of thinking... and see which one suits me best... which on makes me the happiest.

But anyway... i answer a lot of questions with "i don't know" because... i simply don't know.. and it's bad sometimes... because people won't accept i don't knows. this world will not allow me to say I DON'T KNOW. i will never succeed answering the world's questions with I DONT KNOW. in this world, i NEED TO KNOW where i stand... what i want.. etc. or so it seems. and it's so hard for me. i'm scared of hypocrisy (although i acknowlege that we are all hypocrites).. i'm scared of telling myself that certain things are right and certain things are wrong OVER AND OVER again until it's nearly impossible to think otherwise. i want to stay open minded. but... i think it's possible to be TOO open minded. for example, i'm so EASILY lured.. so EASILY influenced about certain ideas an beliefs (sure, i'll always think murdering is bad, i'll always think drugs are bad, etc.. but with other things, i don't have a firm stance)... i need to develop more concrete beliefs.. so that i can stand up what i believe in. ahh. i'm such a ball of confusion right now...

i've been told that with WIDTH comes no DEPTH. i can TRY to do many things at once... live many lifestyles... pracitce different faiths.. carry out different ideologies... or what not.. but the more i put on my plate, the wider the set of things will become.. i'll never be able to MASTER anything. whereas, if i pick one thing, and focus on it, live it, learn it, i'll be able to add and add on to it.. it'll have depth. and yes, i want to be a "deep" person. hah.

sorry if none of this made sense. i just felt the need to go on a ramble about this subject. writing, in so many ways, is my form of communicating.. speaking.. thinking etc.

Dove =]

i love Dove's Real Beauty Campaign =]

even though it's "old news" now. =P





and at the same time, i know, it's like.. who am i trying to kid? i mean, i KNOW that i have certain standards of beauty.. i know i do.. and i hate that i do.. it's just so hard to steer away from it you know?... but i have, a couple of times =] and i hope that i continue to do it more often in the future.

it's a real shame that the media and society has written out the definition of beauty for us... rather than let us think and feel on our OWN.. it's a shame that most of us (including myself most of the time) are blinded from beautiful things and beautiful people... we'll never be able to see all the REAL beauty within our world...

i'm making a pledge to myself.. to redefine beauty. will YOU?

i don't like to talk very much.

usually, i don't say too much at all. why?.. i'm not so sure, but i think it's a mixture of "i know that i'm a hyprocrite, and i know that i've got a lot to learn, and therefore reluctant to say what it is i have on my mind because i know how easy it'll be to be proven wrong." AND "most of the time, when people criticize me, i don't fight back, i take it. i'm too scared to face confrontations."

and so, i think maybe... i lack confidence in myself and my ideas... and the really sad part is that i know this problem is big enough to shape the outcome of my future.. i feel that i'm not going to be able to get anywhere unless i start SPEAKING up, for MYSELF, and for others.. but more specifically MYSELF... i feel as though i've been taught (while growing up) that questioning authority is wrong, that speaking out of turn is wrong, etc... and i've really taken it to heart. it's hindering me from growing, and i know i'm going to have to grow out of it.. it's just REALLY, EXTREMELY hard for me.. i have NO IDEA why.. it's like.. one of my biggest fears... i just don't understand why i feel that way.

i never posted my poem from last year.. but i think this post calls for it:

Here I go, using WORDS again.. HOARDS and HOARDS of words, Some of them full of MEANING, but others as EMPTY as unwanted silence. And these words are words that I THINK are true, but no, some of them spell out as nasty as vomit, Vomit as NASTY as lies. These words. Where did these words come from? They came from a LANGUAGE I so-called LEARNED, a language that WITHIN ITSELF can be spoken and written a million other different ways, a language different from those of my parents, my parents who brought me here in the FIRST PLACE, a language that creates wars and creates HATRED, creates BLOOD and creates death. The SAME language that can create LOVE and beauty. Language that CHANGES when spoken from a 42 year old Punjabi woman to a 15 year old Caucasian boy. Same language? No. Different language? no? same language? Confusion within these mixture of letters, letters, so many different letters, creating so many different words, words with hyphens, words without, words with I's before e's except after c's expect for the few times when those e's come before those I's even though they come after the c's.

And I wish that it would CEASE.

I'm standing here speaking, these WORDS, whatever words are, are coming out but I don't know what I'm saying anymore. I'm just using my TONGUE and using my TEETH, using my JAWS and using my CHEEKS. Breathing IN breathing OUT, these sounds are coming out. But I still DON'T KNOW what I'm saying.

And so for a while I don't speak at all.

I stay quiet.

But then people question. Question what I have to say just because I say I have nothing TO say. And I just don't like speaking because I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M SAYING. I'd rather stroke a face or shake a hand; feel the texture, feel the smoothness. Because, i know my hands don't lie, they tell the truth; they touch, and i know that what they're feeling is true. I'd rather feel than describe; stupid words, stupid lies.

Hypocrisy.

One question. One Answer.

And the altering of lives.

The utterance of wrong words thrown into a sentence

could quite possible make all the difference.

And so for now I'll stop using these words, knowing that some of them will be lies, in HOPES of one day being able to speak in a way that is, at this point in time, unimaginable to me. Hopes that one day I will no longer speak with CHUNKS of vomit as I spit out those CHUNKS OF LIES but instead speak with the consistency, the purity, the strength, and the honesty of the biggest fresh water river anyone's ever seen in their life. Hopes of one day being able to truly "speak."

today..

today, i broke up with my boyfriend.



why? because i have TOO much to focus on for MYSELF, i'm 19 years old, i need time for ME... i dont know what i want... i don't know where i'm going... i dont want to "be in a relationship" at this point in my life. i need to further discover what it is that I'M about, what it is I'M for, what it is I DREAM for.. I LONG for... once i form a better image of those things.. then maybe i can allow someone else into "my picture." and then maybe i'll be able to allow him in for the RIGHT reasons.

This may sound a bit cynical, but i don't believe in "ROMANTIC LOVE." i believe in LOVE. and i believe in LUST. i believe that they are TWO DIFFERENT things. i believe that when you're with someone... you should love them in the sense that you CARE about them, that you want the best for them, that you're willing to put them before you at times, that you're left with JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT of pride while you're with them (i.e., you have enough pride to tell him/her when he/she is wrong, but not so much pride that you're unwilling to admit that sometimes YOU are the one who's wrong).. they should be your "PARTNER," your "TEAM MEMBER," and by this i mean someone who'll be there to help YOU when you're in need, and someone who YOU'RE willing to help when he/she is in need. I think that the person you're "with" should be both similar and different when compared to you. Similar in the sense that you both define LIFE (in general) in similar ways, that you both have similar priorities (not priorities like, oh, the football game ALWAYS comes before grocery shopping; i mean priorities like, family comes before work, or the bills come before gadgets, etc.)... i think you should both have similar IDEOLOGIES... etc... but it's okay (and probably preferable) to be different in personality and character. say for instance, if one of you is loud, it may be preferable that the other is quiet. One is outgoing, the other reserved. etc. I think it's also okay to have different likings, as long as you do have atleast SOME similar ones. and yeah.

all those FEELINGS you get... "butterflies in the tummy" or "oh i love it when you kiss my ear".. "he makes me melt"... "i get lost in his eyes/smile" etc... are all just things that the MEDIA and other things have caused us to set along side with the word "love."...when really.. that's not love at all.

anyway... it's been a long day.

anddd.. i dont know what im talking about anymore... so.. i shall end this blog HERE.

Election '08

today,

was my first time voting. =] yay. =]


and today,

a "colored" man was made the president of the United States,

and yes,

today, racism still exists,
today, people of color are still discriminated against and oppressed,
today, is, in certain ways, both different from, and the same as, yesterday,
but today will always be the present,
whereas yesterday will always be the past.

Today we proved that change in possible.

And for tomorrow, the future, we can only HOPE for more.


"A long time ago,
An enslaved people heading toward freedom
Made up a song:
Keep Your Hand On The Plow! Hold on!
That plow plowed a new furrow
Across the field of history.
Into that furrow the freedom seed was dropped.
From that seed a tree grew, is growing, will ever grow.
That tree is for everybody,
For all America, for all the world.
May its branches spread and its shelter grow
Until all races and all peoples know its shade.

KEEP YOUR HAND ON THE PLOW!
HOLD ON!"
_Langston Hughes

trust.

i've recently discovered..

that i have developed really bad trust issues.
i just...
can't seem to put all my trust..
into another human being..
well... besides my mom, i guess, hah.

it's really unfortunate.

and i'm trying my best.. i really am.
i just don't know how this happened.



i've ALSO recently discovered that..
although i recognized that people other than myself might look at me as, a brown girl, a mexican person, a minority, or what not (at first glance)..
i NEVER had (until now) thought about how being "brown" might change my outlook (or in this case, inlook?) on MYSELF.

i was at a local library reading this story entitled "La Guera" for my "Woman Of Color in the U.S." class .. and it HIT me.. this whole time.. i've been allowing myself to act certain ways just because of the fact that i'm "brown."
here i am, talking about racial discrimination or what not.. posting blogs about how i "don't understand why the color of my skin means so much to you".. and yet here i am, doing the SAME thing to MYSELF.

i had told my sister to "stay quiet, and try and make the least amount of sounds possible" while we were in the "quiet room" at the library because..well.. it's the "QUIET room" of course. i figure, i come in here because it's silent.. all these other people in here probably feel the same way, and so, i should let my sister in on the deal-io. but then i started thinking about it from another light, and.. i realized that part of the fact why i wanted her to be so quiet is because i wanted to BE LIKE THEM, i wanted to FIT IN to the NORM, i didn't want us to be the "loud MEXICAN girls who came in a disrupted our silence." i wanted to be "bleached," i didn't want to be "mexican," i wanted to be like "them." and this holds true for when we're in other locations as well, not just the library. and it's so weird.. how i never realized it until now.

so anyway.. i looked around the "quiet" room.. and i realized that everyone in there was a minority. hah. interesting.

and then i thought, hm, well i guess that makes sense... i mean, why do people come to the library? because they want a quiet place to do homework or general work? a SPACIOUS, COMFORTABLE place. a WELL LIT place. a place with a DESK. a place with free INTERNET and RESOURCES. all things that they perhaps DON'T have at HOME.

... i don't know where i'm going with this blog anymore. & plus, i have a presentation to work on.. so i guess i'll just randomly end it HERE.

the girl's a recluse.

she looked up at me and smiled. i smiled back.

i felt moisture developing in my underarms and my neck began to feel warm, then hot. in. 1.2.3.4.5. pause. out. 1.2.3.4.5. my palms clammed.

and at that moment i wished for nothing more than to be able to take it back. i spoke without thinking. and now i understood why it was that i couldnt hate her even though everyone else seemed to have no trouble with it all. i couldn't hate her because she was the strongest person i knew. she knew what she was worth, and it didnt bother her to smile. everytime she opened her eyes, she'd see yellows and pinks, whites and oranges, peaches and reds and flesh smoother than my lips; even on days when evaporated ponds stood midway from dirt and space, blocking everyone else from the vivid colors of life, enveloping them in the musty gray vision they chose to label reality.

thump. thump. thump. she was alive.

stay true

i'm so glad that i work with kids; i mean, it can prove to be annoying at times, but, every now and then you get those days that remind you of what it's like to be a child... and you realize that, there's more to you than you can remember.

there are memories you've forgotten, and dreams that you've lost.

and so this life you've created, is not really yours, but instead, a creation of a mixture of places you've been and people you've met, things you both detest and admire. you're life is a jumble of scrambled moments in time. and once again, you begin to question just who it is that you are. but in the end, it'll all just loop over and over again, because "you" is nothing more than that jumble and mixture that "you" and "they" have created.

"The beet is the most intense of vegetables. The onion has as many pages as 'War and Peace,' every one of which is poignant enought to make a strong man weep, but the various ivory parchments of the onion and the stinging green bookmark of the onion are quickly charred by belly juices and bowl bacteria. Only the beet departs the body the same color as it went in.



"Beet consumed at dinner will, come morning, stock a toilet bowl with crimson fish, their hue attesting to beet's cromatic immunity to the powerful digestive acids and the thoroughgoing microbes that can turn the reddest pimento, the orangest carrot, the yellowest squash into a single disgusting shade of brown.
At birth we are red-faced, round, intense, pure. The crimson fire of universal consciousness burns in us. Gradually, however, we are devoured by parents, gulped by schools, chewed up by peers, swallowed by social institutions, wolfed by bad habits, and gnawed by age; and by the time we have been digested, cow style, in those six stomachs, we emerge a single disgusting shade of brown.
The lesson of the beet, then, is this: hold on to your divine blush, your innate rosy magic, or end up brown. Once you're brown, you'll find that you're blue. As blue as indigo. And you know hwat that means:
Indigo.
Indigoing.
Indigone."

- Tom Robbins' "Jitterbug Perfume."

American Robot.

so, i drew/painted this today. and .. it's kinda sloppy... and.. the picture quality sucks. because my computer wouldnt read my memory card...but ANYWAY.

it's kinda hard to notice.. the flaming trash can on the left is holding human body parts, the can has the categories: age, ethnicity, and rating drawn on to it... and the box in the far right side is labeled 451.

i refuse to become an American Robot.

disabilities

so i was watching "BABEL" yesterday...

and the japanese girl's character made me feel bad for her.

why do people insist on making fun of someone who has to wake up every morning to face the fact that they can't see... can't hear... can't speak... can't walk.. that they LOOK different from everyone else... that they CAN NEVER be what everyone seems to want them to be? do people even stop and think how that must feel? NO, they're too stuck on THEMSELVES, too stuck on how UNCOMFORTABLE that person, that THING, makes THEM feel.

be selfless, not selfish. kind and not crude.

21 meets 30.

And I guess I just like the look of age.

Jump and jolt with a simple graze
Of callused fingers on my sides.
And you, you and your calluses,
And sweat thick as molasses,
Sometimes too worn to even feel.

One learning the tricycle,
The other leaving the bicycle,
And I’m glad we just go for walks.

I guess I just like the look of age.

The feeling of age
Against an untamed youth
Is all the rage.

And I guess I just like the look of age.

Not only the look,
But the sound,
And the taste,

The taste of part upon part,
Like plastic upon rubber,
One easier to glide on than the other.

I am tasteless, to myself I am tasteless.


And I guess I just like the smell of age.

on being a minority.

i don't understand, why my flesh means more to you than my soul.
my skin doesn't do anything;
it doesn't speak, it doesn't voice it's opinions,
it doesn't tell you it loves you, it just covers me, it's just there.
i am not my skin.
yes, it tells of my history, of my past;
of my family tree and perhaps where they are from,
but what does that say about ME?
i am my own person,
skin is redefined by every person who wears it.
i am not just my skin.
nor am i just my hair,
or my nose,
or my lips,
or any other of my features.
i am ME,
i am my thoughts,
i am my actions,
i am my attitudes,
my feelings,
my laughter,
my smile,
my skills and my talents,
my flaws and my imperfections.
YOU, you focus on the cover,
and I, i beg you to open the book.
i beg you to read.
read my pages, even if you choose only to read the first,
because the first will tell you far more than the cover.
the cover ain't nothin'.
no, the cover isn't really me at all;
the cover's been beat by rain and by mud,
by falls and by tosses.
The cover is better defined as a picture of: what the WORLD has DONE TO ME.
In order to find ME, you have to look past that.

I don't understand why i have my prove myself to you.
I don't understand why you think that you can tell me what i can and cannot do,
what i'm capable of, and what i'm too weak to accomplish.
you don't know me.
i don't understand why you think you can define me,
when you haven't even read the first page,
and honey,
there's thousands; looks like you've got a long way to go.

Can Women and Men be "just friends"?

Freshman year in high school. English 1A. Mr. Kick. One of the few things i remember most vividly from his class was the day he told us that women and men can never be just friends. He said, "it says it all in "When Harry Met Sally." ... Sure, i remember falling in love with Holden Caulfield, and realizing that Romeo and Juliet experienced infatuation rather than love, and learning all the important Greek/Roman mythologies, talking about Night and To Kill A Mockingbird, and being introduced to the story that would forever print a picture of an evil wine cellar in my mind (Cask of Amontillado)... but i also remember some of Mr. Kick's "life tips".. one of them being this whole women and men friendship thing. It's funny... how a "Tip" as simple as this could follow me so often throughout my day to day life.

I've been thinking about it a lot lately. And i'm not sure what to believe. I WANT to believe that a man and woman can be "just friends"... because ANYTHING is possible... but, i have yet to find evidence. I mean... i think they can be friends if they're borderline aquaintance/friend.. that's easy... but i'm not sure if they can be "just friends" while being REALLY GOOD friends. =/

I've been accused of "leading guys on" one too many times.. people think i'm mean because of it sometimes, and honestly, half the time, i'm not even aware of it. Personally, i don't think i "lead them on," i just like talking to guys, and i don't see what's wrong with that. It's actually kind of sad sometimes, i mean, i'll meet a guy, and i'll be nice to him, i'll be caring, and do favors or what not, do my best to help when he's in time of need, and all of sudden "OH, i MUST BE attracted to him." They mistake my kindness for attraction.. and it's kind of like.. geez, is it really that weird for people to want to be nice to eachother? I don't understand. And i'm sorry if i have ever made someone think i'm attracted to them when i'm really not, it most likely wasn't intentional. But then sometimes it goes the other way around, and simple things start making me think a friend is attracted to me too. Like i always say, i'm a hypocrite; but it's okay.

I like having guy friends. and i don't see anything wrong with it. A guy and girl friendship with no sexual attraction HAS TO BE possible!




Harry: You realize of course that we could never be friends.
Sally: Why not?
Harry: What I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form - is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.
Sally: That's not true. I have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved.
Harry: No you don't.
Sally: Yes I do.
Harry: No you don't.
Sally: Yes I do.
Harry: You only think you do.
Sally: You say I'm having sex with these men without my knowledge?
Harry: No, what I'm saying is they all WANT to have sex with you.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do too.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do too.
Sally: How do you know?
Harry: Because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.
Sally: So, you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive?
Harry: No. You pretty much want to nail 'em too.
Sally: What if THEY don't want to have sex with YOU?
Harry: Doesn't matter because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.
Sally: Well, I guess we're not going to be friends then.
Harry: I guess not.
Sally: That's too bad. You were the only person I knew in New York.

Sex & The City

so, i just got back from watching "Sex and The City"... and, well, i've never watched the show before, and so, i didn't really want to go watch the movie either... but some of my girl friends wanted to, and so i thought, why not?

i'm glad i went. =]

the theater was PACKED with women... laughing women.. giggling women.. gossiping women.. happy women.. beautiful women. So many of them were dressed up (in heels and a cute dress).. and so many of them came in groups... it was like a huge girl's movie night out. and it wasnt only at THAT theater.. because we went to another one before that (but had to leave because they were sold out) and there were A LOT of "dressed up" women there too. there were so many happy faces. so many groups of men-less women. so many arms being linked by the same sex. it almost seemed like everyone had popped right out of the movie itself. at first i was a bit confused; i didn't understand what the big deal was. But then, it made me happy. =]

Personally, i don't think i get along well with too many girls, and so, usually i like to say that "i get along better with boys." Usually i think about how bitchy and moody women can be... how argumentive.. and competitive...ya know? but it's moments like these... when i see a whole bunch of women.. feeling BEAUTIFUL amongst eachother (with NO men).. being happy for the simple fact that they ARE women... that i remember how great women can be. women are fabulous =] i miss having sleepovers.. and going out with the girls.. feeling beautiful and seeing eachother as beautiful instead of thinking "damn it, she looks prettier than i do" and letting it ruin everything... and the more i think about it... it really doesn't have THAT much to do with what we're wearing that makes us feel beautiful during those moments... it has to do more with WHAT we're doing.. and WHO we're doing it with.. just being together as girls.. as women.. being able to let loose and be OURSELVES =] being OURSELVES is when we're most beautiful. being OURSELVES and not having to be judged for it, is when we're most happy. at this moment in time, i'm feeling very WOMANLY, and i like it =]

oh, and, the movie wasn't half bad. =] i enjoyed it.

so many problems.

today,

was such an emotional day. and it's not even close to ending yet.
So i'm sitting on the couch, crying and thinking about a situation that happened today... and i decide to turn the t.v. on... somehow i start to watch this movie called "Wah-Wah"... and the main character of the movie is this pretty cool teenage boy. He cries a little too, because of a situation HE is having... and i started thinking about how many people are crying this very second, or how many people are angry, how many people are sad, how many people feel hopeless, restless, or like they just can't take it anymore... all in this very second. i mean, what's the world population? 6? 7? billion...somewhere in between the two? Whatever, basically, there are a lot of people...

and i,
i,
am a VERY fortunate person.

I shouldn't really have much to complain about. And living the life that i'm living... i should be able to be helping out.. a LOT.. for the greater common good. And for a while, i did feel like i was being helpful... i was volunteering a lot... 3 days out of the week... and it felt good. but i haven't been doing much volunteering lately. and i'm not saying that volunteering the the ONLY way we can be helpful... there are lots of ways...all i'm saying is..

i want to be helpful. i want to help people in need. i want them to be able to be okay with life. we all have the same potential... we all START OUT with the same potential.. it's just that, sometimes we lose sight of our potential because of the things we have to go through in life. and it's funny, i mean, it's not like we get to really chose what life we're brought into.. like, what part of the world we're born into, or what family we're born into, what race, what class... we're sort of just..BORN. but anyway, i want to help. & i have to stop wasting so much time. there's a lot to be done.

there're people in need of a smile, people in need of a hug, people in need of hand, people in need of a push, people who need to be left alone...
there are places to be...
moments to be a part of...
things i am meant to be doing.

<3

multi-colored world

i had this really random, catchy song stuck in my head on the way to my lit class today... i was singing it to myself, and it put me in a really happy mood... and as soon as i sat down in my chair, a random poem started formulating in my head:

There i sat
bopping
and hum-
ming
and
tapping;
random melody i love.

The beat
cameoutofnowhere.
And suddenly

i wanted to gather all that
bumping and humming and tapping
and love
and shoveitintomyfist
and PUNCH out everything
bland and gray in the room... in the world...,
feeling the colors squirt and gush down
my hand,
between my fingers.
Smearing them with my hand,
against all the walls,
like a child with finger paints.

Multi-colored world,
thumping and pounding
from the never-ending
melodous beat of life.

<3

life is a poem.

so i was looking for background info on William Carlos William's "The Red Wheelbarrow" online... and a Youtube video came up, and i thought to myself, "what the heck? people made videos about the poem?"... and they were kind of boring, but somehow it lead me to this:







which is... a video on WCW's poem "This is Just to Say..." and.. when were talking about it in my lit class today, i started thinking about the title:
"THIS IS JUST TO SAY"... it's like... usually, when you say you're writing a poem, people might ask "oh, what are you writing about?" ... people, for some reason, sometimes expect so much from poetry.. sometimes people think poetry HAS to say something completely profound and enlightening... and yet.. with this poem, it's like, if someone were to ask Williams: "Oh, what are you writing your poem about?" and his response is simply "oh, this poem is just to say that i have eaten the plums that were in the icebox..." and i imagine the person who asked the question having a look of confusion on their face, like, "a poem that's purpose is to inform someone that you've eaten a plum?? what kind of a poem is THAT?"... and i think that the poem is a response to that question... it's saying that poems CAN be written JUST TO SAY something as simple as having eaten a plum... everything in life is worth having a poem written about it. Life itself is a poem...

This Is Just to Say...

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

<33

be safe.

so i was speeding to work from school the other day, as usual... There i was, constantly scanning the area in front of me, and the area in back of me through the rear view mirror in order to make sure that there were no cops around to pull me over...

and i started thinking to myself, wow, i'm pretty stupid. I mean, think about it; it's pretty unsafe to be speeding all the time.. and.. here i am, getting pissed off that there are so many cops around. Yeah, stupid cops, pulling people over, and by doing so, perhaps saving their lives, or the lives those driving around them. I mean, how annoying is that, right?! having your life saved? c'mon now. CERTAINLY annoying and unnecessary.

it's stupid. same thing goes for not your having your selt belt on. I mean, we get mad when we get tickets, and yeah they CAN get pretty pricey, which definitely seems unfair at times, but in the end, we're basically getting the ticket because we were being unsafe in someway. And yeah, some cops are dumb, but that's because of the fact that they're human, not that they're cops; it's better to say: some PEOPLE are dumb, and some of those people happen to be cops. rather than "some cops are dumb." So yes, i realize that SOME cops probably don't give a damn about your safety and are just interested in the joys of giving out a ticket. ..It may seem stupid to you, like, "i was only driving 3 blocks away to visit my friend, why is it a big deal that i didn't have my seat belt on" Or "it's a free country, if i want to endanger my life by not wearing my seat belt, i should be allowed to" .. in the end, either one is pretty stupid. I don't think that we take the time to realize that some of the simple things we do really actually endanger our lives... and i know, i know, life can be boring without risks. But there's a difference though... between risk taking and plain stupidity.

So anyway, i guess i'm going to try and not let the idea of the cops pulling me over get me as annoyed, because, in the end, it'd be my own fault if it happened anyway. I'm putting myself in a situation i don't want to be in, and only i have the power to remove myself from it... if i chose not to then i have no one to blame but myself. The same thing kinda goes along with my parents... like, the whole curfew thing... how they don't like me being out past 12. sometimes it makes me mad, but .. in the end, i realize they're doing it for my safety. it's understandable.

give it your all

You shouldn't hesitate or feel dumb about what you do or say..do what you do with love, whatever it may be. Give it 100% even if you're not sure about it. If you're going to choose to do something or say something then be able to be passionate about it... if you're going to choose to study at a culinary school, then be able to go on the rooftops and yell I WANT TO BE A CHEF! if you're going to choose to be in love with a girl named Sally, then be able to jump on the rooftops and yell I AM IN LOVE WITH SALLY.. if you're going to choose to be a bag boy at Safeway, then be able to stand tall on that rooftop and yell I BAG YOUR GROCERIES. we all have roles. sometimes we have to fulfill them for stability.. but a lot of the time, we get to choose some of our roles... those are the ones we should be happy with. and once things change, and you're beginning to fill yet another role, just climb down that old rooftop and move on to the next. people won't point their fingers at you and say "but last week you were on THAT rooftop and you were yelling THIS instead"..and if they do, pity them for lack of understanding that life includes growth and change.

in the end. i think it's all about passion and giving it your all.

I don't like not being able to "give it my all" on certain things... i mean, i'll be reading a book or something, and i'll suddenly have this amazing idea pop into my head and i'll think about it for a few minutes, and before i know it, it's time to go to work! it really pisses me off sometimes... that i don't even have time to sit and THINK.

But anyway... i don't think it's fair to ourselves to not try and be the best we can be. Why do something half-heartedly? seems like a waste of time. So, the next time you grab that broom to sweep the kitchen, grab the broom and yell, I'M SWEEPING THE KITCHEN, and IT'S WONDERFUL!

i read this one book, and it said "working the best you can literally means working 'out from the soul' ... In all the work you are doing, work the best you can. Work as if you were doing it for the benefits it will bring, not for people." but i think it can be related to life in general, not just work. BE THE BEST YOU CAN BE =] and don't let anyone tell you that your best is not enough.

<33

time travel

"anything is possible."

i've heard that phrase quite a few times.. but i don't think i ever really thought about to what extent "anything" could actually reach to...

i'm starting to believe that ANYTHING really IS possible. i mean... even "CRAZY" ideas... i think that if we're able to IMAGINE something... it's pretty much possible. It ties back to that Wallace Steven's quote : "Let be be the finale of seem." I mean... if something SEEMS as though as it can be possible.. if you can IMAGINE something and form a picture of it in your head... why can't it be possible to actually "be"? rather than just "seem"?

Take cloning for example... or the internet... i bet that if we were to tell people "way back in the day" (i won't even give a range of years because i'm HORRIBLE with history!) about those two things, they would think we're insane. They would tell us that it's IMPOSSIBLE... they would take their current technological and scientific principles and tell us that there is NO WAY such thing could EVER BE. and yet here it is, being.

The same thing goes for today.. we're so advanced in science and in techonology... we think we know how so many things work... but really, i bet we don't.

I even think time travel is possible. Why not? ... i can imagine it. =] and thus, i chose to let be be the finale of THIS seem... I can't even define what time is. I don't know what it is... sure, clocks tell time... the sun tells time...aging tells time, etc. but who cares?? that still doesn't really define time. Whatever time is.. i'm pretty sure we could travel back into it =]

and please don't post a comment telling me to be more "realistic"... i don't want to be "realistic" right now.. at this point in time, i really do believe that time travel is possible... and that's that. just let me be.

i think that if we all took some time out of our busy lives to let our imaginations run wild for a few minutes everyday, the world would be a better place. =]

i think that our definitions of "reality" are what hold us back from being all that we can be. It'd probably be better if we chose to let our imagination and dreams be the blueprints for our lives rather than this thing we like to call "reality."

Pink elephants eating toffee almond bars
and humming to
the radio.

The man in white calls that crazy.

and he walks on, talking to the air, tapping his ear for reception.

And
The mis-matched character 3 cell phones and 2 high heels away burps out a butterfly, smiles, and calls it
tomorrow.

"Let be be the finale of seem."

what do we live for...

i'm sitting here; i've been sitting here for the past few hours, and from the looks of it, i may damn well die here.

i'm sitting here, too scared to move. too scared to get up, and live.
i don't know why i'm here.
or why i do the things that i do.

i might get up and eat. i'll eat, and then i'll go work out. it'll start out being a "work out" for the purpose of wanting to live a "healthier" life... and then i'll start LOOKING fit, i'll start FEELING like i LOOK good, and before you know it, i'll LOVE my image. and then i'll want to keep it. i'll want to safe guard it. i'll wish my body were a statue, so that it would never change in appearance. i'll eat again, and this time only take two bites. i'll be scared. scared of losing the image i now LOVE. & before i know it, i've allowed myself to lose my purpose. the purpose will no longer involve the word "health"... it'll involve the words "skinny" and "fat." it'll involve self-hated. it'll involve fear. and now i'm too scared to move. too scared to start something i'll never be able to end.

i'm sitting here, too scared to move. too scared to get up, and live.
i don't know why i'm here.
or why i do the things that i do.

i might get up and do some homework. i'll concentrate fully on my work. i'll study and study, until i fall asleep. i'll work my hardest. i'll try my best. and i'll get a B. not an A. a B. and it'll ruin my GPA. it'll cause me to lose another letter of acceptance. and somewhere, for some reason, i was taught that the school you get accepted into matters. it doesn't matter how good you are at ONE thing... or how passionate you are about A subject... it doesn't matter what you think of yourself... what matters are the LETTERS, the NUMBERS, the calculations. this plus this plus that DEFINES you. you are a file you are a record. mess up and beware, your dreams might shatter. once your dreams shatter... you have nothing else to hold on to. and so i sit, too scared to move. too scared to try my hardest and have someone tell me that it's not enough.

i'm sitting here, too scared to move. too scared to get up, and live.
i don't know why i'm here.
or why i do the things that i do.

i might get up and have to face people with expectations. i might not fit those expectations.
because, over time, i have learned that being ME is not enough. i have to be what THEY want me to be. Me, without trying, is worthless. Me, alone, is never enough. and so i sit, too scared to move. too scared to live because i'm scared that i'll mix up my ideas of living with THEIRS. scared that i'll be living for all the wrong reasons; scared that i'll follow THEIR rules, rather than my own.

Scared that maybe i've grown these invisible strings on my arms and my legs, maybe even one on my head. Scared that they're moving me. Scared that THEY are in charge of ME. Scared that i've lost and they've won. And i'm thinking, maybe if i sit here long enough, they'll give up, and i'll be able to once again be free.

is ignoring the presence of others becoming "natural"?

Eyes allergic to others; they can’t so much as LOOK.
Hearts within a yard, bodies within bubbles; and we are still non existent.
I can feel your breathing; but it comes off as wind.
Unsignificant and detached.
And today I can add 5 more to the leaf by leaf list of others.
And today I slam shut five more doors.
And today I’ve become more of a bigot.

Today I’ve allowed you to die.

I love mint chocolate chip too.
Perhaps we could have shared a pint.

Instead two pints will be purchased,
Two spoons will be used,
And our only companion will be our screens.

Achoo.

WAIT!
I love mint chocolate chip too.

we are all biased.

i think that if there's one thing we can't escape.. it's bigotry.

and that makes me kind of sad. i mean, from when we're children, we're spoon-fed all of these ideas. As children, we don't know much, and so, when we are fed information too hard for us to completely grasp on our own.. we tend to swallow. And as we swallow, it becomes a part of us.

One of the ideas that i "swallowed" at a young age.. and have continued to let be a part of me for quite some time is the belief in Jesus Christ.
As a child, i never really questioned anything. But as i got older and DID begin to question.. Jesus suddenly became more than just "the guy who hangs on all those crosses." He gave me an overwhelming spiritual feeling of happiness and hope.

And now, all of a sudden, i've become numb to one of the feelings that was so recently a huge part of my life... the basis of my life, almost. It's weird; believing in something for so long, and then not being able to FEEL anything towards it anymore. It's like... Jesus this. Jesus that. and my response is Jesus who?... i no longer am "touched" I no longer am "overwhelmed".. instead, i am just down right confused and angry.

And i've decided to have conversations with people about it. I want to open my mind to different view points. It's like i'm the rope in the middle of a tug-of war.. being pulled by people's different ideas. and even when i pull "people" out of the equation, and just focus on myself and my own thoughts... i end up pushing and pulling myself on my own. I say one thing... but then just sigh and go back to where i started.

It is SO DIFFICULT to break away from an idea that's been a part of you you're whole life... no matter how hard you try to set it aside, it keeps following you around like a shadow... sometimes you wish it would go away, but for some reason, the sun is just always there, casting down that shadow... the shadow might be small at some points, and large at others... but it's still always present.

So anyway... i think one of the biggest challenges within ourselves is to: try and break away from the mold that we've been set in. It's hard sometimes... it's like, trying to convince yourself that 2+2 is NOT four. It's telling yourself that perhaps YOU ARE WRONG, perhaps there are BETTER ideas out there. We just have to take that first step; we have to question our beliefs and practices. WHY do we do what we do? I have yet to find out if "breaking out of this mold" is as rewarding as it is challenging; but something tells me it probably WILL be.

Who are you?

"The Imagination has moved out of the realm of being our link, our most personal link, with our inner lives and the world outside that world ---this world we share. What is schizophrenia but a horrifying state where what's in here doesn't match up with what's out there?

Why has imagination become a synonym for style?

I belive that the imagination is the passport we create to take us into the real world.

I believe the imagination is another phrase for what is most uniquely US.

Jung says the greatest sin is to be unconscious.

Our boy Holden says "What scares me most is the other guy's face--it wouldn't be so bad if you could both be blindfolded--most of the time the faces we face are not the other guys' but our own faces. And it's the worst kind of yellowness to be so scared of yourself you put blindfolds on rather than deal with yourself..."

To face ourselves.

That's the hard thing.

The imagination.

That's God's gift to make the act of self-examination bearable."

__ "Six Degrees of Separation" John Guare



People often try SO hard to live by the constraints of "reality," whatever it is that they personally hold "reality" to be. Don't wear your pants too tight; you wouldn't want to be seen as a "queer." Don't wear your shirt too high; you don't want to be seen as a "slut." Don't use "curse words" in every other sentence you utter; wouldn't want to be seen as a "menace." Don't go out without brushing your hair; wouldn't want to be seen as "gross and dirty." Don't do this. Don't do that. Be this. Be that. Titles. Assumptions.

We make this "world" harder to live in BY THE MINUTE.

I think i've come to realize something that makes me happy. --> I'm able to carry out numerous different roles without becoming a totally different person, i'm able to be "different" enough to enjoy a handful of different environments, but not so "different" that i lose the sense of "who i am." But then that poses the question of "who exactly are you?"...yes, "who am i?"

There is no me. The closest thing i can think of that i can use to define myself are my thoughts. My thoughts and ideas, i believe, are two of the most powerful parts of me. If someone were to ask me, "who are you?" ... i would have to THINK about my answer... my answer would then be a result of my THOUGHTS. Our THOUGHT PROCESS is what leads us to what we believe "truth" is. So anyway... My THOUGHTS are what follow me around 24/7... sure, thoughts change... and all that does is add to the fact that i'm an EVERCHANGING person. EVERY SECOND IS DIFFERENT FROM THE ONE THAT JUST PASSED AND THE ONE THAT IS ABOUT TO COME. I'M A CONSTANT CHANGE OF PERSONAS. AND I REFUSE TO REMAIN STATIC. I GROW. I CHANGE. I WILL RISE AND I WILL FALL. I WEAVE MYSELF AND MY LIFE THROUGH A MAZE OF DIFFERENT IDEOLIGIES, AND I'LL BE DAMNED IF I EVER FIND MYSELF STUCK IN ONE, SOLITARY IDEOLOGY.

This sometimes causes me to believe that i have a "problem"... i'm not so sure that it's CORRECTLY defined as a "problem" though. This potential "problem" is that i don't really have a concrete stand on anything. You know, people all have things that they firmly believe in... they're able to argue their points and stand up for what they believe in. Me on the other hand, i'll say that i believe in something...but if someone comes along and preaches something on the opposite end that i happen to learn to agree with, i'll drop my stance... and won't back up my point of view... because it will have changed by then. People often see this as "weakness"... i just prefer to look at it as "openess." Before i die, i hope that i can be able to say that i've gotten to experience hundreds of thousands of different things... things that i've always wanted to experience, as well as things that i never would have imagined i would. If life and this world we live in were a big pot of stew, i'd want to sit there for ever, indulging in all it's contents. I want to suck all that i can out of life. I want to live through my imagination rather than my reality. Imagination, i belive, is personal afterall, it's who you really are.

And for now..

In the morning, i'm Liz's best friend. I'm a person for her to carpool with. I'm the person who reads over her papers and checks for grammatical errors as well as making sure that it all makes sense. I'm the person who is sometimes still grouchy during the drive to school from lack of sleep. And on other days, i'm the person who will raise the volume as one of my favorite songs on the radio is playing, singing and bobbing my head all the while.

After that, i'm a student. I'm quiet. In some classes i'm the "studious" girl, and in other classes i'm just plain mute. Some days, as i walk in between classes, i'm the girl who smiles a lot. Other days, during walks between classes, i'm the girl with her head down, too tired to acknowledge the presence of others. No one knows of my volume-raising, head bopping, sing-alonging ways.

After school, i'm the speeder. I'm the materialistic girl driving with her sunglasses, "thinking i'm so cool" with them on. I speed off to work, always in a rush. I'm the "average" American. I'm allowing money and "responsibilities"... and TIME to take over me. I am weak at this part of the day. I'm the girl who will say "you f*cking suck" if you slow down at the yellow light rather then speed off and take it; yes, it's all YOUR fault that i'm going to be late. I'm the type of person who i usually shake my head in dissapproval of. It's almost impossible to imagine that i'm the same girl who can take 20 minutes out of her day to sit, breathe, and relax, thinking of nothing but the rhythm of my breathing.

In the afternoon, i'm a "leader." i'm "teacher." i'm the girl who takes care of elementary school kids. i'm "it" on days that i choose to play tag. i'm part of a "team" on days that i choose to play basketball. i'm an "adult" on days when the 1st graders hold on to my legs and expect me to drag them along. i'm the "nice" leader; the one who often lets things slides... the one who's still too young to know better. sometimes, i'm a kid again. No way am i the girl who curses at cars in front of me.. NO WAY.

In the evening, i'm Mrs. Church-goer. I'm a bible reading, prayer reciting, ministry leader. sometimes, i'm "quiet" again. I'm a helper. I'm a "lighthouse," i'm a "candle," and half the times i don't have a clue as to what i'm "lighting up" at all. I'm suddenly acknowleged as Mexican because everyone around me isn't.

At night, i'm a girl. I go to they gym because i don't want to get FAT, and i just use "i want to be healthy" as an excuse. I trap myself indoors, riding stationary bikes rather than taking a hike in the outside world. I'm a statistic. Suddenly, i'm an "active" person... a person who cares about their "well-being." I'm "young" because i barely reach the age requirement.

Somedays, i listen to Alternative music all day, wear skinny jeans, keds, and a t-shirt. My mexican friends tell me i'm white washed.

Other days, i listen to oldies, and classical music; i dance around to Jackie Wilson, try to make my voice low and manly like Frank Sinatra, or nice and raspy like Billie Holiday. i'm weird.

Rarely, i listen to my mother's ipod... spanish music... and i dance around, imitating what i see at family parties. Suddenly i'm "straight up beaner."

Sometimes, on weekends, i drive around with my brother in his super old toyota truck. I wear sweats and nikes. My long black hair down. Ice Cube's "today was a good day" sounding out through the window. Suddenly, i'm "mexican american."

Other days, i hang out with asians. I eat pho and i buy jasmine milk teas with pearls. I oohhh and ahhh as i look at a break dancing videos. Uh-oh, looks like im a Asiaphile? hah.

Other days, i go to the mall. Get some jamba juice and watch a movie. Drop in to forever 21 and look at the clothes, maybe buy a shirt or two. Walk over to target and buy some Burt's Beeswax. Go to Borders and look at the books. Guess i'm a mall rat... maybe a girly girl.

I go to the library. I read and i study. I sit there for hours, concentrating. Suddently i'm a "school girl."

I'm mean. I'm nice. I'm smart. I'm naive. I'm slow. I'm fast. I'm easy to understand. I'm difficult to grasp. I'm average. I'm unique. I'm awesome. I'm kind of boring. I'm loud. I'm mute. I'm shy. I'm friendly. I'm hot. I'm cold.
I love it when people don't understand me.

ME is all i am. who are you?

first poem of the quarter.

Gubbinal

That strange flower, the sun,

Is just what you say,

Have it your way.

The world is ugly,

And the people are sad.

That tuft of jungle feathers,

That animal eye,

Is just what you say.

That savage of fire,

That seed,

Have it your way.

The world is ugly,

And the people are sad.

_Wallace Stevens

SAY that the world is ugly, and that the people are sad... and you will BELIEVE that the world is ugly, and that the people are sad... thus leading to ACTUALLY HAVING a world of which is ugly and full of people that are sad.

SAY --> BELIEVE --> and it WILL BE.

SAY that you can do it... and you will BELIEVE that you are capable... before you know it, you'll have suceeded.

"The mind is a funny thing, Abigail -- and a powerful thing at that. Bernice is gonna believe what i tell her ... And the only magic is that what she believes ...they're gunna become." (Gloria Naylor's Mama Day)

Yes, the mind is certainly a POWERFUL thing.

It's amazing. Often, as me and my best friend carpool away from school to work, i mutter the usual "urgghh, i dont want to go to work, it's gunna suck" .. and what do you know? it usually does at some points. But today, SHE said "urgh, i dont want to go to work." and iii said, "i do." she looked at me with confusement... and i said "okay, well, maybe i don't, but i gunna tell myself i do. i'm trying to think more positive about it now." ... so i got to work, and one of my coworkers had called in... which meant that i'd be having the 1st AND 2nd graders (and in case you don't know, the 2nd graders are CRAZY)... i thought, oh great! i'm gunna have like a bagillion kids to myself, not to mention the CRAZY ones at that. It's totally illegal. supposed to be a 20kids/1adult ratio...but ehh. So anyway, i started telling myself to think positive, i said, "You can do this Crystal, it won't be that bad." And guess what?? IT WASN'T. i had an AWESOME day. =]

Yes, the mind is powerful.

and i love it.

just think about it... YOU hold the POWER to control your life. FILL YOUR MINDS WITH POSITIVE THOUGHTS. Negative thoughts only bring you down.

Don't get mad, get glad =] Don't get fiesty, get mellow. Don't get annoyed, get pacified. =]

take a deep breathe and remind yourself at how great your life is capable of being.

It's all on you whether or not you choose to have a bad day. ... most of the time atleast... i mean, give me a horrible day and i just might have to second guess all that i have just written.

<33>

i STILL love photos.

i went to visit my high school photo teachers...
their room smelled like developer, and it brought back memories...
they were dissappointed to hear that i'm not taking any art classes in college...
and so... i've decided to start taking pictures again =]

because pictures are pretty.

i like taking photographs to capture things as complicated as emotions and ideas, as well as things as simple as moments and images. Capture moments. Capture Love. Capture Life.

"I think a photography class should be a requirement in all educational programs because it makes you see the world rather than just look at it." -Author Unknown

"You don't take a photograph, you make it." -Ansel Adams

"All photographs are there to remind us of what we forget. In this - as in other ways - they are the opposite of paintings. Paintings record what the painter remembers. Because each one of us forgets different things, a photo more than a painting may change its meaning according to who is looking at it." -John Berger

"When you photograph people in colour you photograph their clothes. But when you photograph people in B&W, you photograph their souls!" -Ted Grant


If there's one thing i love to do is describe things through writing... but there's nothing like a picture to add the cherry on top.

I think that we can't ever really leave our pasts, i mean, we can try to forget it... but it'll always be there. By having photographs, we can have something to help us remember the past... and my remembering the past, we can learn from it, and dive deeper into our futures.






<33

experiment.

my friend had a sociology project to do this weekend; basically, she had to violate a norm.

so we went to Santana Row dressed like that (up there). [Santana Row= Urban Outfitters, Gucci, Burberry..]

People didn't stare as much as we thought they would... the few that did stare were quick to turn away. We figured that they acted this way because they had "manners" and "knew better than to stare."

Afterwards, we went to Eastridge Mall (a shopping area that's SUPPOSEDLY meant for people with less money than the people who shop at Santana Row; ie. JCpenny, Sears, Papaya)... THERE we got stares as early on as in the parking lot. It was really a significant difference from the number of stares we had recieved in Santana Row. Everyone in the food court turned to look at us... they stared for over 5 seconds at a time... oddly, it made me happy =]

before this "experiment" i had set up a stereotype towards "wealthy people," i thought that they were "snobby" and less "accepting" than non-wealthy people. This "experiement" kind of proved me wrong. The "wealthy people" were far more "accepting" than the "less-wealthy" people.

Something else i noticed was that there was a far larger percentage of minorities at Eastridge, while there was a far larger percentage of Caucasians at Santana Row. Minorities often crave to be "accepted" and "treated equally" without taking into consideration that they "look different" and yet, throughout this experiment, they proved to be less "accepting" than the people who they often claim are less accepting. How can you constanly ask to be accepted if you yourself are not accepting?... or have you grown to be nonaccepting because of how often you yourself are not accepted??..

Anyway, i'm tired of writing this blog. it's dumb. i don't know what i'm saying or where i'm getting at. I'm making too many judgements and following too many stereotypes... it's disgusting.

peace out.

p.s. i know. i'm a hypocrite.

People think they know how to label me

I'm tired of people giving me titles; and i'm tired of stereotypes.

You think you know, but you have no idea.

I am a woman because I am physically weaker than the man to my left. I am a woman because I like the color pink & I care about what I’m wearing. I am a woman because of the body that I walk in. I am a woman because I can give birth. I am NOT a woman because I have the strength to stand 10 hours of labor as I give birth to the man who will one day be physically stronger than the woman to his right. I am NOT a woman because I have a heart and am able to keep on loving and respecting men after the numerous times that they constantly judge me by my appearance and by the fact that I chose not to reveal every aspect of my body that apparently DOES make me a woman because of the simple fact that I respect myself and know that I indeed have more to offer than what first meets the eye. I am NOT a woman because of the truth and I am NOT defined by all of the pages found inside of my never ending novel; instead I am a woman because of the images that you have created and am defined by the mere hardback cover of the novel that you’re too scared to admit exists within all these “women.” Now tell me, what makes a woman?

I am Mexican American because my skin is brown & my hair is black. I am Mexican American because my eyelashes are long enough to not need mascara & because my lips are full enough to kiss every man on this planet, and sadly, you think I would. I am Mexican American because I can speak Spanish to talk behind your back & because I live in a house not quite big enough for my family. I am Mexican American and therefore must be obnoxious and lack respect. I am NOT Mexican American because my parents that were born in MEXICO risked their lives 5 times to cross the borders that you have built in this world that is not yours in order to reach your country of which is called AMERICA in order to try and live the life backed up by the so called “American Dream,” the same dream that makes this country believe that they alone do not have any food to spare for those other people with their ribs tearing away at their skin but instead make them believe they need to conserve an immense portion of that food for the garbage man that comes by every week, and for the people within their own country that have grown too large to fit into their high priced vehicles. I am NOT Mexican American because I realize that every part of me, from my hair right down to my toes, was created by the help of the images of my hard working ancestors, that every part of my physical being is made up of small parts of them, and for this reason chose not to buy chemicals to turn my lovely black hair into brown. I am NOT Mexican American because everyday that I wake up in America I have to make sure that I spell my words correctly and that when I speak I make sure to use the right tense and make sure that my pronunciation of these words is perfect in order to not be looked down upon, because when a Mexican American does this it makes them a Mexican American, but when an American does this it means they need a tutor. I am NOT Mexican American because I care more about the family within my home than the size of the house we live in. I am NOT Mexican American because I have both Mexican culture and American culture throughout my day, nor am I Mexican American because I live life from two different points of views; I am Mexican American because my parents were born in Mexico, thus making me Mexican, and illegally came to American to give me the American part of my Mexican American title. Same goes for Asian Americans, African American’s, etc.

I am a good girl because I’m a loser who doesn’t laugh at jokes with more than 3 curse words in them. I am a good girl because I’m already 18 and my parents still won’t let me stay out past 12 o’clock, and because I actually listen to them and get home by 11:30. I am a good girl because I won’t sleep with you after a year of telling you that I love you. I am a good girl because I won’t go to the party with you and get drunk while catching whiffs of marijuana scented living rooms. I am a good girl because I say no to all the good stuff, and don’t know how to have fun. I am a good girl because I’m going to college to actually learn and because I plan on actually reading the books I’ll buy there. I am a good girl because I’d rather tell the truth and get in trouble than lie and get away with it. I am NOT a good girl because once you get your first DUI, I’m the only one of your friends who knows your legal rights and consequences. I am NOT a good girl because I’ll be your next designated driver. I am NOT a good girl because I have morals and actually live by them. I am NOT a good girl because while you’re out having fun partying and telling people that I’m “gay” because I stayed home instead, I’m actually at home worried sick about you. I am NOT a good girl because when I tell you that I care, I actually mean it. I am NOT a good girl because when you need someone I’ll actually be sober enough to be there. I am NOT a good girl because I have the strength to stand up to peer pressure and not care about the fact that all the reason you’ve titled me as a good girl are false. I am NOT a good girl because I have self-control and self-respect. I am NOT a good girl because I’m not stupid.

I tell people that i'm Catholic, and... they automatically assume that:
I am Catholic because I wear a saint’s bracelet and hang a rosary on my car mirror. I am Catholic because I go to mass instead of service. I am Catholic because I attend church on Sundays. I am Catholic because I pray to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit every time that I become frightened. I am Catholic and therefore must believe in sex after marriage. I am Catholic because there’s a picture of the last supper hanging right above my dinner table in the kitchen. I am Catholic because I hang a crucifix in my room. I am Catholic and therefore must be conservative.
When really, i choose to simply title myself "Catholic" because i attend a "Catholic" church...
I'm tired of simply saying "i'm catholic" and having people spit out assumptions like crazy. "oh, so like, you think you'll go to hell if you have sex before marriage?"..."oh, so, do you want to be a nun or something?"... "oh, so are you like, super conservative?"... or like, having people say crap about the crusades. It's really annoying... it's like, they think they know me and what i'm like just because of my title as a catholic..and i guess i can't blame them. i guess im just debating as to whether or not i want to keep the title. what's in a name anyway?
I guess when people ask me what religion i am, i might start saying "oh, i attend a Catholic church, but my beliefs are a mixture of a lot of religions and ideologies."

Laser Hair Removal REMOVING my dignity?

The first video is kinda hard to follow, so, if you don't have the time, it's better to just watch the second.

But anyway...i'm getting laser hair removal on my legs done... and the day that i went to my first treatment, i cried because i acknowledged that i was giving in to the pushes and pulls of society... but yeah...my first 2 treatments weren't that bad.. but my THIRD treatment (which was last weekend)...was painful. and it made me realize what a drastic affect society was having on me... here i am, causing my body pain just to "fit the picture" of what looks "pretty."...i felt really weak and sad. So, in my literature class, when we were talking about a certain character named Cocoa wanting her skin to be a certain color...it totally reminded me of that. I'm like Cocoa in that i want to look a way that i'm not. So anyway... the lady was "treating" me...and i told her that it hurt..so she lowered the "level"...and it kept hurting me...but she said "it's lower than the last time you came...if i lower it any more it won't have an affect on you." and so... in a sense, i wasn't letting my VOICE be heard. i TOLD her that it hurt...i FELT the pain...and yet i let her keep doing it simply because i figured "ok, she's the nurse, she knows what she's doing"...and then i realized i was crazy for thinking that. i mean, who knows my body better than i do? i'm the one feeling this.. it's MY BODY. i couldn't even muster up the courage to defend my OWN BODY. i was letting the power of my silence cause me physical pain. i was finally able to realize just how drastic my problem of not speaking up for myself is, and now that i have come to that realization, i think it'll be a little easier to try and over come it. All i had to do was say "STOP," and it would have stopped. but i didn't. I layed their silently... enduring the torture.. and then i burst into tears. it was uncontrollable. it felt horrible...not just the physical pain...but the idea of what i was doing to myself...what i had fallen to. i started thinking about everything...about how i don't speak up for myself. about how i let people's criticism bring me down so easily. about how people think they're always too this and too that...never really happy with themselves. and i thought to myself...never again will i make fun of someone.. because by doing that, i'm contributing to their insecurities. i'm really debating whether or not i want to follow through with the treatments... i mean, my parents already payed... but.. i dunno..

Life's crazy, and i think that sometimes people spend too much time criticizing how people look. "Oh god, she's FAT!" or "Why is she wearing those shoes with that dress? looks weird" ... you know what i mean. It's INSANE. who cares what people LOOK like, who cares how they DRESS. I think we need to learn to redefine Beauty.

Jabbawockee Mini

i love this kid. he's so cute, and i love how he just lets it all flow.. he's so into it. If i were a Jabbawockee, a video like this would make me SO HAPPY. happy to know that i was able to have such a big influence on someone so young, pure, and practically unbiased. =]

A Need for Love and Understanding.

they see a problem child.

they see you picking on Jimmy,
and spitting on Sally.

they see you yelling and screaming,
whining and fighting.

they get angry when you curse
and call you trouble.

i see your bruises,
one right above your ankle,
and one right next to your elbow;
the ones your mother gave you.

i see the fear in your eyes,
and the saddness in your heart.
i see how much you longed to be loved,
long to be held.

i smile when you yell,
i smile when you fight.
because then i know you have emotion.
because then i know you believe you deserve better.

they believe what they see.
they see you do wrong.

i see what i believe.
i believe you'll get through this.
i believe you'll grow up just fine.

i work with kids, and let me be the 1,000,000,00th person to tell you that the toughest kids to deal with are the "problem children." They yell, they scream, they pout, they argue, they kick, they fidget, they punch; you get the picture. But after being able to actually GET TO KNOW these kids, and get to know what they have to deal with outside of school on a constant basis, i can't help but shake my head in sadness. At work a couple months ago, i had to "punish" a little boy whose mother had recently passed away, i figured, just because he's going through things doesn't mean he can be as disruptive as he pleases. BAD MOVE. He went on to reciting his usual cry of "everyone hates me! i hate it here! i hate it! and YOU'RE MEAN!".. it's amazing how those simple words nearly broke my heart. I found my eyes getting misty and i sat down with him. i said, "Being mean to you is the LAST thing i want to do. And i certainly don't hate you. It really hurts me that you think i'm being mean to you. I really care about you, and i just need you to understand that it's not okay to be jumping around when i tell you to sit down." I smiled at him and kept telling him that i care about him, and want him to be the "awesome kid i know he can be"..and it totally made him smile and forget about it all. Whew. Some of these kids lives are 100 times worse than my own,and, even though they can be a pain and disrupt the whole class, i'm doing my best to try and accept them and the way they behave... i want THEM to be my main focus, because, now i see that THEY are the ones who need it MOST. They cry because they hurt. They yell because they're angry. They kick because they're confused. I no longer look at "trouble" only as "problems," i sometimes look at it as a cry for help. these kids need love. they need compassion. they need a sense of understanding; they need to hear that they're wanted, and that it'll be okay.

and then again, sometimes kids are just plain brats. =]

...so anyway... applying this to the "world of big people" rather than just elementary school days... i think that our society would completely benefit from the act of understanding. We, as adults, need to be aware of the fact that people have problems. People have bad days. People have tough lives. That guy does every drug imaginable down the street does it because he has so many problems that he CAN'T HANDLE reality and thus feels the need to ESCAPE IT; you calling him a "good for nothing piece of sh*t" isn't going to make him feel any better, neither is the dirty stare that silently tells him he's a menace to society and were better off dead. A smile's what might help.

I challenge you to smile at the next person you get mad at.

Remember: people take their anger out in stupid ways. The guy who cut you off this morning might have just filed for divorce. The woman at McDonald's who gave you a dirty look and half pushed you on the way out might be the person who has to go home to an empty house each night. Love these people. People need love. People who don't show love are the people that need it most.

now, i don't mean to get all biblical on you or anything... but i don't think anything can say it better than this:

"But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you."

this world could use a little more love. <3