So much to say

I don't know where to begin as so much has happened the past week, and past couple months...there's too much to lay down that is all quite exciting and profound to me amidst the trials and tribulations.

But I will say that the last 3 days have been some of the greatest and joyful in a while.  Everything that has happened the past 3 days cannot be of mere coincidence.  I know without giving an explanation that this all seems ambiguous and trifling, but I can say without a doubt in my mind that I know God has had a hand in it all.

On a random note:  a thought just came that it is weird how the Western culture accepts everyone so easily - drugs, drinking, homosexuals, having an abortion, etc.  While I am not saying any of that is necessarily good or bad, why is it hard for the Western society to accept introverts or reserved people with the same "open arms"?   I do feel the invisible backlash that hardly anyone brings forward.  Precisely because the reserved are not always keen on speaking out that this issue is kept mum...

It's the personality of a person that we are not capable of changing.  I hate the word "shy".  I hate being called that word, I hate using it.  I was born that way.  As much as that is hard for many people to understand, it is innate and there's only so much one can do to change their personality.  I have overcome a lot of it.  I don't mind public speaking as much as I used to - I'm a lot more comfortable speaking to peers in a classroom than in a business setting though.

But I feel society's pressure to be an extrovert - to wear your heart on your sleeves and not be afraid of opening up or speaking out.  If only I were born with a big personality life would be a little easier...

Fuck it all.  I am who I am.  I've still got growing to do, but I am more comfortable in my skin over the past couple of years than I have ever been.

Ultimately, I am a blessed soul.  Thank God for this life I have been given.  Even though I am fearful of the uncertain, I am not completely lost...and I am never alone.

Word to the wise:  No one can tell you how you feel.

Just had a small, stupid episode of worrying about myself after a friend said he wished I was happy.  I was taken aback.  I don't know why he thought I was unhappy...I honestly had nothing negative to say other than we hadn't hung out in a few months and I have wanted to...

And then I called Bernice and asked her, and she said I don't seem happy.  Psh, I could say the same to her and to my friend Jeremy that they both don't seem happy either.   She's studying all the time, and he was working all the time.

Can't believe I cried over that.  They made me worry about myself as if there was something wrong with me.

Thank God for Al (aka my future bro-in-law) to talk some reason and sense into me.

I am a generally happy, optimistic person.  Who is to tell me otherwise?

Ups & Downs

Today was a tiring one.  But I think tomorrow and the next few weeks to follow will be even more trying.

I've said this to Bernice, but every heartbreak brings me closer to my mom and my brother...I open up to them more (especially Victor), and I am nicer to my mom because I realize just how much I need her and how I'd be so lost without her.

Tonight I talked with my brother for about 45 minutes, summing up the past year and the guys I have been meeting.  The main thing I talked with him about was a good friend that became a little more than that and crossed the line with me.  I spoke about how 4 years of friendship is just gone because of how things ended.  That guy is leaving for Vietnam within the next few days, and is probably moving away for good.  I won't see him again, and I won't speak to him again.  I made a promise to my brother that I intend to uphold - I've got to do what's good for me even though I know once it sinks in completely, I will keep crying until one day I stop thinking about him daily.

Honestly, there are times when I want to share with him what I have seen, what I've been doing, what I've been learning the past 3 months since I last saw him.  It's hard to accept that I won't ever be able to.  I still value him.  He means a lot to me - more than he will ever know - and I am grateful for the things he has shown and taught me.  I miss his stupid humor, his advice when I needed him, I miss that time we biked in Monterey...I miss bowling, and I miss going to the shooting range with him.  

He is selfish, self-seeking, inconsiderate, needy, mean, and unavailable.  His care turns on and off like a light switch - is only there for you when it is convenient for him.  His love is only conditional.  He lies and he cheats.  In his romantic relationships he has one foot in, one foot out.

But what he has done in his past doesn't define who he is.  Even though I wish he had chosen me, I know that will never, ever be the case.  There is no going back.  There is no more hoping.  Every day that truth slowly settles deeper into my soul.

I am not a backup.  I am not #2.  I am not someone anyone should "settle for".  I have to stop thinking that dating a guy and loving him unconditionally will change him for the better - even in the slightest.

I can only hope and pray, as I did with Bobby, that this guy changes for the better.  Pray he learns to value people.  Pray he learns to be a little more selfless.  Pray he learns to love with his whole being.  Pray he lives a truthful life.

I have to continue to focus on the good in life.  I'm too emotionally and mentally drained to write out everything I intended to say...will continue that in another post...

But I will end with this:  I made a promise to myself I will not cease to love with my whole heart.  I will not stop giving whatever I can - time and energy - to those who need it.  I made a promise that I will focus on my limits and boundaries so that I will not keep giving to those who will do me great harm.

I'm so sick & tired of feeling exhausted...of giving a large part of myself to those who are not good for me.

When a heart breaks, it really doesn't break even....but...

I constantly remind myself to keep my chin up.  I gotta believe that there are brighter days ahead.  I will overcome...one baby step at a time...

Getting Back to Me

And it has never felt better.

Yesterday a friend called me after I texted him that we should hangout since it's been awhile.  He asked me how I was doing.  Truthfully, hearing him call made me feel a little better, but in the grand scheme of things...with how things in my life are starting to fall into place and starting to make some sense...I really meant it when I said "[I'm doing] pretty good".

Volunteering at Development is Child's Play (DICP) in Cupertino has been a great beginning to my future.  Every week I go in, I fall a little bit more in love with OT in a child development setting.  When it comes down to it, the OTs I watch teach children the necessary skills to survive independently in the world.  It's an incredible slow and long process, but you do see the fruition of the time and energy spent.  Through discipline and patience, the OT does her (there are only female OTs in this clinic - as I'm sure goes for 99% of other OT settings) best to help the child.  I see how much energy and care it takes the OT to continue speaking in a soft and caring manner even when their patience gets tested (and the child is kicking or hitting or throwing a fit).  It's an immensely honoring experience for me to be able to observe and see these kids improve, and to also see how the OTs deal with difficult children.

Even though Ruby isn't nearly as difficult as these children, I could definitely use some of the tools I've seen to help Ruby learn to read and write.

More importantly, having experience with children reminds me of how much I really want apply to be a volunteer at Camp Erin again.  I remember seeing commercials about the camp several years ago and wanting to participate after my dad had passed away.  The camp is for children going through the loss of a loved one.  I was 12-years-old when my grandma passed away, and that was my first experience with losing someone I held so dearly in my heart.  I still remember how I felt so alone because no other kid my age understood what I was going through.  None of my friends had lost someone so close at an age that they could even remember.  That commercial played a year or so before my dad was diagnosed with cancer, but for some reason I recalled it and wanted to participate.  My reasoning was that maybe I could help children come to terms with their loss while also coming to terms with the loss of my dad.  So I remember rushing from either school or work to north of San Francisco to where the meeting was being held for volunteers for Camp Erin.  I was 1 hour late - due to traffic and getting lost.  I parked my car, went into the building, and fled up the flight of stairs as the last couple people left the conference room.  I told one of the ladies I was late...she happened to be the director of the program.  After talking with her for 30 minutes or so, she determined that I wasn't suited to be a camp counselor because of 1) my lack of experience with children and 2) my clear grief of my father was still fresh as blood - when talking about my dad with her I couldn't stop my tears from showing.  And this was almost a year and a half after his death.  Even today I still cry in remembrance when I see movies where a father has passed...even though it's just a movie, the pain emerges.

Nevertheless, Camp Erin is still on my mind.  I think it'd be such a wonderful, fulfilling, heart-warming, healing, life-changing experience for me.  With my growing experience working with kids, I definitely want to try applying as a counselor with Camp Erin next year!

Anyways...that was such a big divergence from volunteering at DICP.  Going back to that...I see how much love the parents have for their child (with autism, ADHD, and other disorders).  No parent wishes their child to come out with any sort of behavioral issues, but once you do have a child with something...and to love them unconditionally despite the turmoil it has on you financially, emotionally, and mentally...(and let me tell you, it is EXPENSIVE treatment and EXTREMELY hard to raise a child with a more extreme/intense case of autism/ADHD)...is AMAZING.  BEYOND amazing.  It's so inspirational, admirable, worthy of praise...there's no word or phrase for it.  I'm just humbled to be able to see and know that there are so many wonderful moms and human beings out there who are dedicated to helping their or other children become more empowered.

It gives me life and true joy.  I do believe that my life is heading in the right direction, and I am so grateful for the opportunities I have gotten...I wouldn't be as happy as I am now if it weren't for Big Brothers Big Sisters (BBBS), for DICP, and starting next Monday...Good Samaritan Hospital!!!

Life is looking up :)

P.S.  TODAY I SAW A LITTLE (3.5-yr-old?) BOY COME IN AND HE WANTED TO TAKE HIS PANTS OFF LOLOL.  IT WAS SOOOO CUTE.  I SAW HIS CUTE LITTLE INDIAN BUTT.  and the OT said "Oh noooo, we only take off our pants when we are using the toilet or in the bathroom"  It was so endearing.

It's Crazy

The title of this post comes twofold - the meaning should unveil itself through this piece of writing.  Something quite fascinating just happened that I feel warrants a post before I forget.

I have an aunt with some sort of mental illness that she has not ever been diagnosed for - from all the symptoms I'm fairly certain she has schizophrenia.  Her name is Linda.

I have a story to tell and a confession to make, and this is for her.  She is a human being, she is alive, she has a life, she has a story.  Because she is not able to tell it, I will from my point of view.

Let me start by noting I am currently enrolled in a summer Abnormal Psychology class at Foothill College.  The first week just ended and I learned the basics of what is considered "abnormal", the diagnosis process, and the assessment process.  I read about the history of mental institutionalization and the treatment of the mentally ill.  It disgusted me how they were being disrespected and being ignored.  I thought, "Don't their nurses and other caretakers have any sort of compassion and empathy or love??"  There was an experiment done by D.L. Rosenhan (I'm not going to go into detail what it was about - Google has the information), but the point I wanted to bring up was that a nurse changed her clothes in front of the mentally ill - not to be seductive, but because to her the mentally ill were not there.  They were invisible and ignored.

I judged that nurse.  How could she just change her clothes right in front of a bunch of people?

But now I understand.  No, I don't change my clothes in front of my aunt.  I know she's there, but at the same time...it feels like she isn't.  It's like an on and off switch that changes quickly between the two settings.  One second I notice she's there, but the moment she walks away it's like she doesn't exist.  Anyways, what just happened probably an hour ago now for me just put the two and two together.  What I read for class actually applies to me in my own life.  Sometimes things don't click with me as quickly as they should.

I am no better.  I ignore and disrespect my Aunt Linda.  I scold her, I sometimes yell at her, I don't even think about her a lot of times.  It is almost like she's invisible and doesn't exist in my life.  I think a lot of my family forget about her.  We know she exists and is still alive and breathing, but we don't ask about her.  We don't ask how she's doing, because we feel like she's been so stagnant for so many years.  We feel like her life is meaningless because she doesn't do anything all day - just eats and sleep.  She doesn't step outdoors.  Hell, the few friends I've ever uttered a word to about her have also probably forgotten I have an aunt with some sort of mental illness.  As terrible as it is, the stark reality is that the mentally ill are truly not treated as human beings.

Do medical staff/doctors/caretakers become desensitized and fazed by seeing the mentally ill every day at work?  I would imagine so...and I wouldn't blame them.  On the contrary, I find it absolutely astounding when a woman or man comes into a healthcare related job everyday with so much love and care for the people.  That to me is an angel.

Anywho...since I was born all I can remember was my Aunt Linda being this way.  There was a time when I was 4 years old or so and she dragged me and Bernice through the garage and outside to the car on the driveway, claiming that she needed to protect us and take us away because the devil was coming.  I don't recall this happening, but was told many years later.  What I do remember from this event is the aftermath - my aunt in her room crying with my parents (namely my dad) yelling at her.  I was so unaware of what was going on at the time.  However, that was the most extreme action she ever took.  Growing up, she would pick Bernice and me up from high school on a daily basis.  Nothing was odd about that until one day after getting us, she stopped at Wendy's to get food.  I remember being a little embarrassed to walk in a restaurant - even a fast food place - with her looking completely disheveled and to put it simply, crazy.  Not only does her looks give her away, but the way she talks is another great indicator that she isn't...normal.  So when she opened her mouth to order food, I immediately felt a mixture of emotions.  The feeling of protectiveness and that no one had the right to judge her was more dominant than the feeling of embarrassment.  This was MY aunt, and I stared hard at the cashier and was prepared to glare at whoever else gave my aunt any small sign of animosity.  Of course, my aunt was unaware of the cashier's questioning look towards her.  Clearly something is "wrong" with my aunt.  Once we left the restaurant is when things became interesting...As we were leaving the parking lot, a couple cars were trying to turn in, but my aunt stopped and started honking like hell and screaming incoherently.  She really was screaming.  Those familiar with this disorder know that schizophrenics tend to make up their own words or put a string of words together that utterly don't make sense.  To this day I'm pretty sure she thought the parking lot was a one-way-in, one-way-out ordeal.  I just remember sitting in the car feeling (again) embarrassed because the drivers and passersby were looking at her like she was crazy.  After telling her that it was a two-way entrance and for her to just exit, I vividly remember thinking, "Why the fuck is she the one driving us home?  Is she really sane enough to?"  For years she was always talking/yelling/screaming to herself in the early morning, throughout the day, and late at night.  Every time I stayed over at my aunt's place, I'd be irritated and agitated to no end waking up to her yelling.  
She has had bouts of OCD - wasting water and leaving it running for so long to wash her hands.  She also had a thing about using up so much tissue paper.  Right now, we're pretty sure she has diabetes because she shows symptoms of it.  And given her diet of fruit, meat, sugary sweets, and other junk food over the years, it undoubtedly leaves a recipe for disaster.  She doesn't eat veggies.

We've tried to get her help in the past.  In general, schizophrenics are not in denial, they just lack insight and self awareness thereby resisting treatment.  Some schizophrenics, however, are aware and are able to lead relatively "normal" lives.  But there are episodes of schizophrenia.  Sometimes it is heightened and then seems to disappear, only to reappear again after a stressful event.  If only more people understood this disorder then they wouldn't be afraid.  Schizophrenics are NOT violent or dangerous people like the media or movies sensationalize.  They are human beings who need understanding and attention; not blind eyes or backs turned against them.

I wrote all of this because I was at my aunt's place when my Aunt Linda saw me studying on the couch.  She likes to look through things like a little curious child.  I had 2 binders next to me on the couch, and ironically, of the 2 binders she picked my abnormal psych first.  I asked her to read it.  I turned to the first page and it said, "What is Abnormal Behavior?"  She scanned the page - with her nose pressed to the paper - as best as she could with her poor eyesight (she's far-sighted).  She closed the binder.  I asked her if she understood it and she simply replied, "No, I don't understand" and walked away.  She went back into her room.  I think she did understand even in the slightest bit.  I wonder if she knows something is different about her.  I think she does because she feels it from what family has repeatedly said to her but she chooses to deny it.  Sometimes I pity her because it is not at all her fault she is the way she is...

I think to myself her life is unfortunate and she isn't able to live a life of her own because of the captor holding her hostage within the mind.  But most importantly, I think of the huge burden and emotional and mental toll it takes my other aunt and my grandpa to take care of her.

No, life isn't fair and square.  But we take what we got and we find the blessings of it.  All we got is each other.

It just hit me that I don't even have a single photo of me and her.  I know she wouldn't want to take one with me if I even asked.

Oh my goodness...where to start?  I think so much and I do write wherever I can (on scraps of paper, in notebooks, etc), so it's hard because I don't keep everything in one place.  I lose a lot of what I write - but in the end I don't think keeping it even matters.  What matters is that my emotions and thoughts are all on paper that it leaves my head (more often than not the thoughts still linger around like an unwanted guest though).

I think what I write here is in hopes that one day someone might read this to better understand who I am and what I believe and stand for.  I wish to share my experiences in written words as I am not good at wearing my heart on my sleeve or opening up.  I sometimes have trouble verbally articulating what it is I want to convey.

As those close to me already know...it is my belief that there is almost nothing more important than people (And I say almost because I believe this world we live in, the universe and the stars, have come long before us and deserve to be taken care of).  This life isn't meant to be lived for ourselves.  It is not only meant to be lived for our significant others, either.  It's not meant to be lived for our own blood family.  I strongly believe that we are here to live as a large community of people who are to nurture, care, help, and love one another through this thing called life.

Some people say I have a big heart, that I'm a good person.  But that's not my purpose.  I don't wish to receive accolades or praise.  All I want is for people to DO something from the bottom of their hearts to make this world a better place.  To spread more joy, peace, and love to others - loved ones and strangers alike.  A little human kindness goes a long way.  Time and time again I experience it when I go through any hardships.

Even though I believe selfishness is the greatest destruction of mankind, I cannot say I am a saint.  I am not without fault. Sure, I like to help people - but when push comes to shove, I am readily willing to help some people more than others.  I try to treat others the way I would want to be treated, but I know I can and should be a lot more patient and loving with my own aunt and mother.

Gonna throw in some lyrics that I hold dear to my heart (all from the group For King & Country):

"Hit rewind, click delete
Stand face to face with the younger me
All of the mistakes
All of the heartbreak
Here's what I'd do differently, I'd

Love like I'm not scared
Give when it's not fair
Live life for another
Take time for a brother
Fight for the weak ones
Speak out for freedom
Find faith in the battle
Stand tall but above it all
Fix my eyes on You"

- "Fix My Eyes"

"If I sing but don't have love

I waste my breath with every song
I bring an empty voice, a hollow noise
If I speak with a silver tongue
Convince a crowd but don't have love
I leave a bitter taste with every word I say

If I give 
To a needy soul but don't have love then who is poor?
It seems all the poverty is found in me"

- "The Proof of Your Love"  [side note: these verses are also found in 2 Corinthians]

I digress...I simply want to share my experience with my Little Sister, Ruby.  When I actually stop to think about it, it has only been 3 times since I've seen/hung out with Ruby, but I don't know what my life would be like without this little 6-yr-old girl.  I'd probably be a lot more self absorbed and thinking about my "problems".  I absolutely appall myself when I get inside my own head and stay in there for a long period of time.

Nevertheless, I feel so lucky to have been paired up by Big Brother Big Sister (BBBS) with this sweet girl - although I foresee things changing a little as she gets a lot more used to me.  I love how she listens to me, that she respects me, and trusts me.  I wonder if she can tell how much I care for her.  Funny thing is...I fell in love with her before I even met her.  She had my heart from the moment I heard just a little snippet about her.  I don't know what it was, and to be honest...I had my doubts of being a mentor to a child.  Mind you, I NEVER had any experience with a kid before.  Was always afraid of the rowdy ones.  lol...but I've always had a strong affinity for people - no matter how young or how old.  I think it was due to my upbringing and experiences when I was young - I've got to give all the credit to Pastor Norma, my grandmother, and my aunt for raising me as a child and instilling in me values that I still uphold and will continue to until the day I die.

So the first outing with Ruby was at a park in East? Palo Alto.  There we drank our Jamba Juices together at a mini table for kids (as she insisted), and for a second I felt like I was chilling with an adult friend.  It just amazed me how observant and mature she could be most times (probably because this was our 1st real hangout).  But then we made pancakes and Olaf out of sand that I was brought quickly back to reality.  I enjoyed swinging with her and going on a seesaw with her and seeing her face light up and giggle so much.  I was glad I could teach her about spiders and how they catch insects in their web to feast on.  2 hours flew by, but it made my day.  Being with her was like time slowing down.  I forgot my worries and felt so relaxed.  I was reminded that life is simple.

Anywho, pictures!  Below was the 2nd outing with me and Ruby.  We went to another park - a different, bigger, cooler, one - Magical Bridge Playground - which was PRETTY FRIGGIN AWESOME.  I do have pictures of the park, but Yelp/Google has better quality ones.

Here is Ruby opening up the Kinder Surprise I got her from Montreal, Canada.  It's illegal to sell here in the U.S., but Ruby knew about these little candy surprise eggs (they actually have it at a market her family frequents).  She ate the chocolate so fast that it filled her chubby cheeks.  I always have such an urge to pinch her cheeks!!!  Oh, the temptation...always so hard to resist...

Here is Ruby collecting sand for us to make another "Olaf" - really, just a snowman.  The boy behind her in this photo was just SO.DAMN.ADORABLE.  He overheard Ruby saying we needed rocks, so he helped collect a few for us.  Then he heard us say we needed a stick, so he got us a stick for the snowman's smile.  Then he heard Ruby say we need to make a hat for the snowman, so the boy got us a leaf and a stick to make the hat!!!  (Finished pic below)

So the conversation when I first met him went like this:

Me:  How old are you?

Him: 6, but my mom says I look 8.

Me (actually laughing out loud):  What's your name?

Him: Adrian

Me (a little worried after scanning the park and not seeing parents):  Adrian, where's your mom?  

Him:  *points* Over there by the balloons.

And as me and Ruby are talking, he hears her say stuff like "the inside of this stick is pink!"  Adrian goes on saying that krill eat plankton and they turn pink when they molt.  And then randomly goes on telling me that there's a poisonous octopus that can kill up to 26 humans with its venom.  While he says all this I ask him "Do you like school?"  And sure enough, he does!  Made me sooooo happy to hear it and hear all the stuff he's learned (I did fact check with my friend, Google).  Sorry - it's hard to trust a 6 year old sometimes.  

By the way, Adrian also has chubby cheeks.  O.M.G...soooo wanted to pinch and squeeze his cheeks too.  Lol...I clearly have a problem.

On the way back as I was driving Ruby home, I heard her humming and singing softly to herself while looking out the car window.  It was one of the sweetest moments of my life.  I just listened to her little angelic voice, knowing if I disturbed her she would stop.  But after a minute or so, I turned to Ruby and asked her what song she was singing.  As I had already suspected, she just gave me a wide, shy grin, shook her head, and stopped singing.    

Something about this girl...she's not my blood sister, but she might as well be.

Side note:  I am worried about Ruby - I hope she learns to love reading and writing.  I pray she becomes curious and wants to learn about things.

Conversation with my Grandfather #1

I thought I'd keep a record of my conversations with my 公公 for the time being.  Not sure how long this will continue on for, or if this is a one time deal, but I find learning about his past quite fascinating.

On Saturday early afternoon I stopped by 姑姑's house and saw a couple albums out on top of the coffee table.  I hadn't seen these in forever, and even so, I've never really took a good look through the photos.  Upon seeing the "ancient" photos of my grandpa's family - his dad, uncles, cousins...my paternal grandparent's wedding photos...my uncle and aunt's wedding photos...I began probing and asking him questions.

Amongst the very first questions was "Who put [the albums] all together?"  I was surprised when I found out it was him.  He was, as Dodo puts it, "the collector of memories".  I never knew how sentimental my grandpa was...I'm a little surprised only because he seems to always have on a stoic persona.

Regardless, I learned a little more about my grandmother and my grandfather's family.  I have known since a child that my grandma was born and raised in Burma, but I didn't know she lived there for 14 years of her life until she moved to 福建 during WW1 in 1941.

I also learned that my grandpa had 3 uncles and 1 aunt?  But 1 uncle and 1 aunt died at a young age...his dad was the oldest child with 17 and 13 years of an age gap with his 2 remaining brothers.

Browsing through the memories...seeing the photo of my brother as a child at his Chuck e Cheese birthday party covering his ears from the loud noises...and my dad beside him smiling and laughing so happily at the camera brought tears to my eyes.

And then I saw a photo of me and Bernice.  Just the two of us - 3 or 4-year-olds with both our heads bowed down, her (or my) arms wrapping around my (or her) shoulders.  The other one receiving the embrace with her hands clutched tightly in front of her.  I remember this moment...it's when we argued and daddy told us to kiss and make up.  I just couldn't remember who was the one who reached out to the other for the hug.  Pretty sure it was Bernice that was reaching out to apologize - because more than not likely it was her fault.  Hahaha...she really was a bully back then.

I don't remember daddy even holding a camera up to snap that photo of us reconciling, but I think it goes to show how much he treasured and loved us.

I know he'll always be a part of me for as long as I live.  Most importantly, I am glad to have had a trip down memory lane with my grandfather.

I am Fine

It's so easy to revert to a state of negativity and self pity.  It's easy to covet, to desire something or someone - and regarding the latter, I'm not just talking about sex (as it seems everyone would jump to this conclusion).  I really mean wanting someone to put their arms around you when you are feeling down, someone who understands you, loves you, and wants to be with you for who you are.

Amongst all things, I don't know if I am ready or willing to be in another relationship right now.  It's something I want, and I am afraid of waiting years before I find "the one", but I am trying to learn to be happy on my own.  Independent enough to sustain the confidence I have in myself, but not too independent or too confident that I close myself off to the world thinking "I do not need a man".

I guess I'm afraid that I will eventually be too used to being alone that I don't want anything or anyone to burst my bubble.  I'm afraid of being closed-minded as the years go on.

Stupid fears, I know.  But I am well aware of my little thoughts.

Nevertheless, I am glad that people think of me as a happy person.  Through the ups and downs, through the trials and tribulations, I only hope that through God I can continue to keep my head up and my eyes towards the skies.

I am grateful for my friends who keep me in check when my emotions can get a little rowdy.  I am one lucky girl.

A change is coming

Funny how my mind wanders to random things as I try to study for the CPA Audit exam.  I am brought back and forth to reality from my mind and I begin to think (not dwell) on the past and who I am now, while figuring out what lies ahead for me in the future.   What do I want in life?  What does God want for me?

I am sometimes left feeling heartless at how I have blocked Kita, Bobby's sister, from my phone after that one time she texted me news about him.  Despite my prior warning about not wanting to hear about him ever again, she felt like she had no one else to turn to.  I understand her feelings, but at the same time I don't want to go back to reliving the feeling of pain.  There are no more memories left to reminisce on - neither good nor bad.  Hearing about him even though I feel like I had completely moved on, brought me pain.  To prevent that from happening again, from his sister's unintentional slip of the proverbial tongue, I did what I thought was best for me.  Can't help feeling a little selfish about blocking her out of my life though...

Which brings me to a good friend I first made at EY - Tom.  Blocked him from my phone as well.  Cut off all communication so that he could move on and so I wouldn't have to be bothered either.

Then I thought about Squeegee.  Wondering how he's doing and if he's in good hands.  Lord knows I only want the best for him.  I feel like even though I loved him, I couldn't take care of him.  I wasn't wanting the responsibility, and I probably didn't love him enough to.  Maybe what I felt for Squeegee is how Bobby felt for me.

We dive into things too quickly sometimes.  Love never comes fast - it takes time.  But we get into something expecting a certain result, and when it doesn't turn up that way, our hearts break.

My thoughts are all scrambled right now, and I don't know if I am making any sense...

But I think this all really directs to the current issue I am having.  I want to and believe I am able to become a volunteer for the Big Brother, Big Sister program...but is it right for me?   At this moment in time, is that what is best?

Maybe it's just because I always doubt myself that I am asking this...but I suppose if it's meant to be, it is meant to be, right?

I don't know what exactly peaked my interest about the program.  I don't even remember which came first: if it's because I saw a billboard on the way to work advertising it, or if I randomly thought about it one day as I was sitting at the dining table.

So many doubts, so many questions.

Have to keep reminding myself that everything happens for a reason - nothing is ever a mistake unless if it's one where the lesson is not learned.  I'm still trying to figure this thing called life out.  I just have to trust in the Lord.  My faith in Him has never failed me.  But I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid.  I'm deathly scared.  I'm afraid of not living a fulfilled life.

It's not that I want to volunteer to feel better about myself.  I feel like if I could share some word of wisdom to a child, to let her know she is loved, appreciated, beautiful, strong, then she will grow into a much more confident person even quicker than I was.  If she could learn from my mistakes (if that were at all possible), I would feel like I've done something worth living on earth for.  But I know people need to make their own mistakes...I just do not wish anyone to have gone through the pain of betrayal.  That by far has been the hardest thing I've survived.

I just wish to live a life based on love & truth - no exaggeration, no embellishments, no lies, no hate, no regrets, no blame.

I do wish to meet someone one day soon, but I know I will have to be patient and wait.  Most importantly, I have to continue to grow personally.  There's always room for self-improvement.

2015!!  Pretty much all I can remember of the past 15 days was going to Indonesia for Jovi's wedding.  It sure was so good to see Pak Komang again!! :)  I remember stepping out of the airport and seeing him there.  Instantaneously a smile emerged and illuminated both our faces.  Hahaha, a moment to remember.  He's such a sweet and humble guy that I only wish him the best in life.  I've got to say that seeing him and my relatives again was the greatest joy of my trip.  I am so glad to have spent more time with Gugu Zhen and Yingying and Finna and Finna's parents again.  LOVE hanging out with them.

On the flight from SFO to Taipei, I sat next to Nick, a guy who lives in Kelapa Gading (same area as Gugu Kiki) and who's dad works at EY Jakarta!  How funny fate is.  Nick studied in Seattle at UDUBB - management or something, but does consulting in Jakarta.  His sister studied and just graduated with a BS in Finance at USF.

It is so fascinating to meet such genuine people.

From Taipei to Bali, I met a woman who lives so close to me and is a minister of a Spiritual Center.  She went to Bali with a group of about 30 other people to look at the temples and learn and practice their rituals.  How cool is that??

What I recall the most is at the end, when Gugu Zhen and Jovi's dad were driving us to the airport...Gugu Zhen talked about Ah Ma and Daddy.  It's the first time anyone in the family really talked about them since they passed.  She spoke of Ah Ma's good nature, her good temper, and her kindness - all of which I can still remember, even if it has been 11 years.  Gugu also spoke of Pa and how and why he came to America.  I heard it from Gugu Gigi when I went to Jakarta in Oct 2013, but in a little more detail this time.

I am proud to be my grandmother's granddaughter and my father's daughter.  I am proud to come from such a wonderful and nurturing family.  I thank God for all the love I am surrounded with, and with the good, strong people I share my bloodline with.