Home

Couldn't help it... gotta use the Buble version. It's been a week of orientation. It's been 3 weeks of being away. Three weeks of homesickness.

I got a chance to have dinner with my friend and we had a good heart to heart. She didn't sugarcoat it. This is going to be hard. Being transplanted into the region of the country where you're the only one of your kind is hard. Being away from everything that feels like home is hard. Knowing that you're being selfish is hard.

Some crazy stats: out of 99 students, I am the only Californian transplant. There are 31% women and 21% international students. I am the only woman of color that doesn't have an accent. I am 1 of 3 American-born Asians. Just the makeup of the class alone segregates me.

You don't have to play superwoman all the time. Sometimes you just need to cry. Sometimes you just need to cleanse the soul. And wherever you are, you deserve to have a place called home. 

I will try to make my place more home-like. Makeshift isn't working right now. I know that this isn't permanent, but it is for 2 years. However strong you are, you do need people and friends that understand what it's like to be in your situation or workload. This probably has been the hardest thing for me--I have great friends at home... I thought that I didn't need anyone but them... but they have their own lives and their own situations, and sometimes it is best to find people who can relate to you in an instant/superficial level than use your lifelines at home.

And it's okay to admit that you want to fold the hand that you've been given. Once you admit that, there's no place to go but up. 

This will get better. It has to.

Home

Is this home?
Is this where I should learn to be happy?

I promised my friend that I wouldn't play Michael Buble's "Home." But I did play "Home" from the musical version of Beauty and the Beast. I am a bit homesick today, more than usual. I know... it's only been 2 weeks and 2 days since I've been away. I know... it's only been 2 days of orientation... But I don't know. While we were getting lectures about targeting your career--finding your path... I started thinking of home... And how I hope that my path leads back to the West Coast. 

Everyone here seems to have sooooo much confidence and my classmates are so outgoing... I just feel really lost... in every aspect.

I call home everyday, but even that doesn't help. It makes me even more sad. If you have any words of wisdom on, maybe not even conquering this, but just minimizing the effect, please let me know.

Home should be where the heart is
Never where words so true!
My heart's far, far away
Home is too.

Big Yellow Taxi

Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone...

Weekends make me feel the worse kinds of homesickness. It's only been a week. So... random thoughts of the cerebrum.

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What is it about bullies (even self-denying or indirect ones) that makes them feel overly injured when one of their torments actually steps up to them? How come when the bullied soul gives exactly what the bully deserves it is deemed as something worse than what the bully dished out to begin with?! Does the bully, with his/her sociopathic tendencies, know how to play to their torment's conscience? And why, for that instance, do people feel for the bully?

Karma's a bitch. But she's also a lady if you treat her right.

I don't get it. I feel like the tortured souls never come out as winners. It's their faults that they were bullied and they're horrible people for wanting and executing a small taste of revenge.

****

This song has been stuck in my head for a week now. My high school creative writing teacher (and probably one of the biggest influences of my writing) posted about the school's trees--they chopped them down! So naturally... I thought of "they took all the trees and put them in a tree museum..."

Those trees used to be our refuge... it used to be where all the buses lined up. And now they're gone!

****

Force of habit. I believe that no one in my extended family cares about me. It's a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy. I would change my thought processes, but they seem to be true. I know that this is something that I need to overcome. But the anger won't let me. I wonder if there's an "Anger's Anonymous" group out there. Maybe I should watch "Anger Management" once again.

I know that this has shaped me for the better. My brothers and I are closer because of it. I know that my struggles with the relatives almost insures that I won't do this to my nieces and nephews. But I wished that I would feel included once in a while. I wished that the paranoia would go away.

The paranoia of people using me is what makes it difficult to make new friends. The Aunt Petunias and Uncle Vernons and cousin Dudleys of my life have influenced me more than I have ever wanted them to. 

****

The road to self discover is a windy one. Sometimes I wish I could gain some of my ignorance back. 

****

Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.

Hello Goodbye

I said my piece

To make my peace

I tried to say it right

The anger deep inside me 

Just makes me want to fight

AHahaAHA. Can you tell that's been a hell of a long time since I've written any rhyming poetry?! (Try 05/05/05... actually, it may be more recently than that... possibly 11/26/05.) These few lines have been stuck in my head for about 2 weeks now and decided to write it out--sounds a lot better when you think of it as a slam piece (slam piece... oh, you.). Who am I kidding?! *Rolls eyes at self* Slam piece. It's a bit contradictory, but oh well... I am a walking contradiction at times--okay, most of the time. 

Won't have much time to dwell on the anger, so expect to see the splashes of red here when necessary. I'll leave the sob stories for personal correspondence. 

Good day. Don't let the thunder scare you. Don't let the lightning strike you.

You Are Mine

I will come to you in the silence, 
I will lift you from all your fear. 
You will hear my voice, 
I claim you as my choice,
Be still and know I am here. 


Do not be afraid, I am with you. 
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me
I will bring you home;
I love you and you are mine. 


I am hope for all who are hopeless,
I am eyes for all who long to see.
In the shadows of the night,
I will be your light, 
Come and rest in me. 


Do not be afraid I am with you.
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me
I will bring you home;
I love you and you are mine. 


I am strength for all the despairing,
Healing for the ones who dwell in shame
All the blind will see,
The lame will all run free,
And all will know my name.
-"You Are Mine", D. Haas

I went to mass yesterday and broke down (shaking shoulders and all) when this song played. I know that Jesus is with me. I know I'll need His help. But I'm scared that I won't think it's enough. I'm scared that in the moment of weakness I'll give up everything that I worked so hard to attain. Not everyone gets this chance. Not everyone has the balls to put all their chips in. I know that I'm lucky to have my parents (they could've not given me their blessing)... but the guilt that I feel for causing my parents this much sadness (of me being away) is almost unbearable. And the fact that I won't be helping the family financially is causing me so much grief. I can't believe that I am this selfish.

Being from such a big family, you take people for granted. You take the criticisms and comparisons from family members for granted. You take the random friend conversations for granted. You take the jam sessions with the brothers for granted. You take the little nephew for granted. You take the cousins for granted. I didn't know there was a difference between wanting your own time and space, and being absolutely alone. I think I learned the difference too late. 

I know that this will make me a better person. I already have a deeper appreciation for all the things and people I love in California. I just need the strength to make it through. 

Please keep me, and especially my family, in your thoughts and/or prayers. 

...Three more months until Thanksgiving break...

Do I Know You?

We interrupt your daily programming with a little nonsensical food for thought...

I find it interesting when someone you absolutely don't know bothers the f*ck out of you. Is transference a subconscious thing or a pre-conscious thing? 

I was thinking about this yesterday during the brawl. Victorino bothers me. And it's not even about the brawl or about last year... his face bothers me. He's not overly gorgeous or overly ugly... which is why I don't know why his face irks me. And it bothers me that I can't pinpoint WHY he bothers me. Maybe I'm making too much out of it... Maybe I need to stop asking why.

I don't know. I think I'm trippin'. 

Jessie Spano "I'm so excited" Status at a cool 65%.