My Dearest Nana Lucy

They say that those who truly love Nature, will find beauty all around them. But, to the woman who never spent a day without fresh flowers in her home, the woman who never neglected a garden and cherished every moment outdoors, she not only found beauty everywhere, but carried it everywhere she went. 

Today, we say goodbye to our dear Nana Lucy: a beautiful woman who loved many and was loved by many more. To those of us who knew her, and ache with her passing, we remember her as a gentle, kind, and sometimes stubborn soul who made the best out of every obstacle thrown at her.

September's End

Torn and tangled,
Thrown and trampled
Upon the beaten path.

Crushed and smashed
Before the glass
Can shatter life at last.

With each new batch,
The masters’ catch
Of sweet and bitter feasts,

We Are "N." I Am "N."

I truly have the deepest appreciation and respect for government. It's a brilliant institution that builds a nation, feeds and teaches; it shelters its people, leads them by the hand, and is arguably the parent of society.

But politics, the tainted government dealings that are controlled by the inherent failures of humanity--I have very little respect for that.

For the most part, I stay silent in political discussions, even with some of my dearest friends. Opinions are fickle creatures, you see. Depending on their nature, they can poison the mind and fill the heart with pride. Often times, when threatened by the enemy, it morphs into a violent predator, unaware of its own strength and size. It can sabotage its herd and strip the pureness of its habitat.

Opinions are a dangerous species. And frankly, I'm unfortunate to have enough of them wrecking havoc in my life without the political kind becoming a factor.

Small Fish, Bigger Ponds

A pond, a lake, and the ocean; which do we live in?

It's a question I was posed with this week and am still racking my brain in trying to answer it. In the midst of ending one career path to journey upon another, I was asked one common and questioning cliche:

"Would you rather be the big fish in a small pond or get lost in the ocean?" 

I'd be lying if I said it isn't something I thought about, but I never thought it'd be something I'd have to answer to.

Cross It Off the Bucket List

St. Ignatius Catholic Church in San Francisco, CA

Six years have passed since I last visited this artistic wonder. Reminiscing on the physical and spiritual beauty, while remembering the first time it took my breath away at 18 continues to leave me breathless. God has blessed me with amazing opportunities in life that I will forever be thankful for, including the chance of visiting spectacular sites such as this so early in life.

Having said that, it's an awakening to take a step back into the past and realize how far I've come in these past few years--specifically to realize how much I've changed. The 18 year old girl who first stepped into this church is no where near the one stepping in it today. But I suppose that's one of life's own artistic wonders created by the master painter himself...allowing Him to finish one part of the painting so that we can take a step back to look at the full masterpiece.

Why I've Decided Not To Get My Master's Degree (For Now)

We all have that one question that we dread answering.

It's the eye-rolling question, or the "eye-flutter," as some of my friends would say. The one thing you'd rather not have to answer, or better yet, the one thing you'd rather not have someone ask you.

The worst part of it all is that you know it's coming--you can feel it--you can sense it. Its silent steps seem to slither into almost every casual conversation, no matter the person. It's not that your hatred of the subject is the root of your never-ending annoyance and dislike; it's the inevitable expectations, programmed from predictable societal standards, that carve loathing irritation into your heart.

So, what's mine, you ask? Six simple words; one complex assumption.

Jerusalem, Christmas Trimmings and a New Year

After surviving the end of the world, living through 2012, rejoicing in our Savior's birth and returning to Jerusalem, it's time to take a stab at this neglected blog thing yet again.

So...where do I begin?

At the end of every year, (2009, 2010 and 2011) I tend to look back and reflect on the past lessons I've learned and the new person I've become. Time never ceases to teach me the simple lessons I seem to overlook with ignorance and stubbornness at one point or another. And so, at the end of 2012, there's one thing that time, my fickle friend and bitter enemy, has taught me most of all:

I know absolutely nothing about anything.

I've loved with all that I could and lost more than I wanted; I've grown incredibly close to new friends and created distance between old ones; I've pushed my career further than ever before and lost sight of more important arenas in my life. I've done more and lost more and had no idea what I was doing the whole time. I knew absolutely nothing about my life--and still don't. I just like to pretend that I do.

Point of the story and/or blog post: If you asked me one year ago, "Where is life going to take you this year," I would have failed miserably attempting to answer correctly.

School in the Big Girl World

When the new school year began, I seemed to be get the same remark from both friends and family still pursuing their education: "You're lucky you've graduated and don't have to go to school anymore."

Ask me 6 months ago, and I probably would have thought the same thing. But now that I'm a "big girl" who gets life insurance applications in the mail (seriously not joking) and has a full-time 9-5 job, I'm now on the other side of the fence.

And the one thing I've learned this summer? Life as a big kid in the real world is a lot like school. Here's the top 3 reasons why:

1. Due Dates: Deadlines. They're everywhere. Get used to it, and get used to following them, because work deadlines will be the worst of them all.

2. Lunch Money: Hey, a girl's got to eat. Whether it's putting a few extra bucks on the side to buy lunch everyday for during your lunch break (a.k.a. lunch hour), or it's packing a sack lunch and bringing it with you, it's that one part of your "big girl" day that will make you feel like you're in kindergarden again.

3. Make Time for Other Things: It's very easy to get sucked into a work (or school) schedule. But there are other priorities in your life besides working--make time for friends, make time for family, and make time for yourself. The tricky part is actually finding the time and energy to do so!

School never ends, neither does learning. So study hard to finish up your 4 years to continue the next 40 years in a different kind of school...the work force.

'Tomorrow' Creeped In: One Year Since

Time: fickle friend or bitter enemy?

There's a line from Shakespeare's Macbeth I sadly always enjoy quoting. It doesn't exactly help much either that the play has been lying on my nightstand for the past week, reminding me of the prose hidden inside:

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty place from day to day."

Oh, the pitter patter of time. To vaguely and loosely translate Shakespeare's elegant verbiage into a marriage of two modern cliches: life is short while time flies.

For the non-Shakespearean buffs unlike myself (although I encourage you to familiarize yourself with his works as much as possible), allow me to provide a bit of background on this line without giving any underlying themes or details from the play away. This line derives from a famous soliloquy found in the tragedy Macbeth. Essentially, it is an introduction to a philosophical reflection on life and death that Macbeth contemplates on. With the realization that nobody can defeat or escape death comes the understanding that days sneak past until that fatal day arrives.

Life is, after all, a "brief candle." Shakespeare's analogy, not mine.

I look back and astounded at how much has happened and how quickly it's all passed since last July. Though so many things have changed, including myself, so many things have still remained the same.

Summer Limbo

I don't know about you, but summer always seems to be my "limbo season."

What's that you ask? Well, for some reason, summer always brings about the biggest changes in my life. Don't get me wrong, I love the season; America's Finest City really shines during the summer months.

Maybe it's the "school's out" mentality we grew up with as children. Perhaps it's the lethargic energy that summer heat seems to suck out of me. Or, it may be that I've had some of the best times and worst times during the summer months.

For whatever reason, summer always feels like "limbo."

After all, you have to either go up or down in limbo. I'm praying for some brighter summer days ahead.

The Mishaps of a Graduation

It's official: I am a college graduate. Who would've thought this day would actually come? Not I, that's for sure.

But because God has a sense of humor and enjoys taking it out on my life, I'm going to share just a few of the lovely details of what went wrong on this "special" day. Don't worry, I did have a very nice, memorable graduation--but it just wouldn't have been complete without a few "awkward" moments that probably wouldn't happen to anyone else but me. Don't fret--it wasn't the first "special" day that has gone array, and knowing me, it certainly won't be the last.

The day that something doesn't go wrong will be the day that will truly be "special." 

So, sit back, relax, make some popcorn, and pray that when you graduate from college these things don't happen to you.

Time to Start Something New, Goodbye to SDSU: A Look Back Before Graduation

On my way to my last class at SDSU, I couldn’t help but chuckle and reminisce on my very first freshman class on campus in a neighboring building. Boy, how times have changed. Fresh out of high school, I remember the excitement of waiting in line at Starbucks (the early days of my coffee addiction), walking to class with coffee in hand, thinking I was some big college hot shot ready to conquer the world. I can see it now: nose high up in the air with my oversized sunglasses, pretending I had some clue of what I was doing while imagining I was a Harvard collegiate genius on the sunny streets of San Diego. I dreamed and ignorantly believed that the next four years would be pure perfection, because hey, that’s what college was supposed to be.

I still remember it; I still remember myself back then, who I was and who I thought I was. But that was then and this is now. Four years later, on the foot of my graduation, I realize how much I’ve changed, how much I’ve grown, how things are different, and how some things are exactly the same.

And just as quickly as that first day went by, today will soon be gone, but hopefully not before I can record it on this blog. There are a couple of things I want to share in the few days I have left as I look back on my college experience. So, please allow me to shed some wisdom on what I’ve learned to those who can apply to their own lives, making their college years as close as possible to a freshman’s perception of college “perfection.”  

Keep motorists SAFE, but not with call boxes

San Diego County wants to keep motorists SAFE with an expensive yellow-

brick road of bright-yellow call boxes. Too bad the yellow-brick road doesn't

get traveled on very often anymore, giving legislators a reason to try and close it

down.

The San Diego Service Authority for Free Emergencies, also known as SAFE,

is a government entity that maintains San Diego County's emergency call

boxes through a $1.00 yearly fee on vehicle registrations. Found throughout

the county along highways and in remote areas, the yellow call boxes connect

directly to trained dispatchers to help motorists in times of emergencies.

In 1990, 170,511 call box calls were made by motorists to receive roadside

assistance; in 2010, however, the number of call box calls was a measly 11,625.

Although the number of calls has significantly decreased over the past two

decades, the program still receives approximately $2.6 million each year for its

use. Over the years, the SAFE program has built up to $12.8 million in reserve.

Though the SAFE program plans on removing several emergency call boxes

over the next few years, the estimated cost of maintaining the current call

boxes will significantly increase, specifically the cost to outsource the calls to a

contracted company called TeleTran Tek Services.

In a time of smart-phones and in-vehicle communication systems like On-

Star, the question remains as to whether emergency call boxes are still a

necessity. Spending millions of dollars on a program used less than 12,000

times a year may not be the most practical use of tax-payer dollars, especially

during a recession. Instead of spending the money to maintain a program

that is barely used, that money could go towards fixing county roads or other

transportation services.

Birthday Life Lessons from "The Morning After"

Yes sir, it is my birthday. My age? Oh well...it's the 1st anniversary of my 21st birthday. That will be the new counting method around here from now on, just in case you didn't know.

So yes, today is my birthday. Well, technically yesterday was, since I'm writing this post in the wee hours of what is often called, "the morning after." There's a quote from the British poet, Lord Bryon, that I often like to refer to at times like this: "If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad." This line befits tonight more so than any other. And so, here we are..."the morning after" my 1st anniversary, writing to ensure I don't go completely bonkers.

It's funny. With every new year (and every new birthday, or in my case, anniversary) comes many new realizations about the people in my life and the relationships I hold dear. The people who want to be there, who love you enough to care, will do all they can to ensure that you have your one special princess day. It's a process of humility--torturing yourself and embracing humiliation by participating in the embarrassing birthday rituals to please everyone else around you.

Tortured Facade

Broken in shackles I lay

With no fight to break away

Tortured by these ball and chains

Forced to contemplate and pray.

Saddened by this darkest hour

The wilting of my inner flower

Plagued by the conscience of a coward

With inspiration from a higher power.

Crushed dreams scatter the floor,

Of the life I wished for once before.

Guarding the pathway towards the door

A painful reminder forever more.

Opinions in a Whirlwind

I love opinions; in fact, I think opinions are blessings in disguise and a gift to humankind. They have the power to open people's eyes, enlighten the soul, teach the ignorant, and more importantly, provide insight into the mind and logic of your companion.

However, over the years, I have learned (with a few drops of wisdom shed upon me) that there is a time and place for everything. I'm quite aware that many people in this world have very strong opinions about various different subjects; and over the years, I've also learned that people will not always get along.

Though it may seem like an elementary principle, I think it's an idea that people so easily forget. Man was not meant to get along with everyone or to agree upon everything--think of how boring the world would be. However, man was not meant to be cruel and unreasonable to his brother either, especially over a difference of opinion.

Negligence

I have, by any and every standard, neglected my child. If Child Protective Services existed in the blogosphere and was informed of my carelessness, I would be considered an irresponsible and unfit parent. So, I apologize to my readers (if there are any), and I apologize to my baby (this blog).

I should scorn myself for unconsciously (or shamefully purposely) ignoring this blog and "forgetting" to write. What can I say, it's been a rough couple of months.

But, as it is Christmas day, and a new year is about to begin, it appears that it's time for a reflection of the past year. I'm thankful for much, regret very little, and hope for much more in the upcoming more. But importantly, I'm blessed to have the most amazing people in my life. What can I say, God has a lowly daughter in more ways than one.

Goodbye 2011, hello 2012. Here's to hoping this year is even more amazing than the last.

Daily Aztec Article: Does a Coach's Drug Test Hurt School's Integrity?

Well, my friends, I did it. My first article officially published in the Daily Aztec.

Here it is:

A new women’s track and field season underway: check. Head coach Shelia Burrell coming back for a second season: check. New assistant coach’s past drug test: check, well, positive.

Dorian Scott, an Olympic Jamaican shot putter, has been named the new women’s track and field assistant coach at San Diego State. Scott was a member of the Jamaican team for the 2008 Olympics in Beijing, placing 15th in the shot put event. He previously coached at his alma mater, Florida State, before coming to San Diego.

In 2006, however, Scott tested positive for marijuana in a competition at the Central American and Caribbean Games in Cartagena, Colombia. Scott was given a “public warning” for his offense by the track and field governing body, the International Association of Athletics Federation, and as a result, had his gold medal taken away and national record erased.

Now, I am not here to judge Scott’s coaching abilities; on the contrary, his past athletic history suggests he may be the most qualified candidate for the position. Obviously, having a coach who has participated in the Olympic Games could serve as an advantage to the track and field team. Nonetheless, I must question the kind of ethical and moral example a coach can serve to student athletes, if he himself violated drug policies at a competition.

SDSU has a strict alcohol and substance abuse policy for both students and student athletes. According to SDSU’s university policies, a student may be suspended or expelled from the university by violating university drug policies. SDSU athletes are subject to drug testing and must adhere to the university’s three-strike positive drug policy if they wish to continue competing.

Upon Scott’s new position, SDSU could unintentionally be lessening the importance of being drug-free, especially for student athletes. Though his actions would be frowned upon by the university if he were a student, it doesn’t appear to be a problem as an SDSU employee.

Obviously, a positive test for marijuana is not as serious as using other drugs, such as steroids. But Scott is now in a position of higher authority in an environment where athletes who are guilty of using marijuana can be suspended from athletic competitions and from the university.

Scott may, however, be able to use his past personal behavior as an example of how not to act for student athletes. His poor choices may warn students about the negative consequences that come along with abusing drugs, especially those students participating in athletic events. Hopefully, the team will strive to model his athletic abilities rather than try to mimic his personal choices.

Perhaps Scott’s mishaps would be overlooked if he wasn’t the second track and field coach hired in less than three years to have committed an athletic drug violation. In 2009, SDSU hired former U.S. hurdler, Larry Wade, as an assistant coach for the track and field team. In 2004, Wade tested positive for a banned steroid, 19-Norandrosterone, and was served a two-year competition ban. At that time, Wade’s employment was met with criticism, including harsh sentiments from Doug Logan, then CEO of USA Track and Field. He compared Wade’s new position to the university hiring a plagiarist in the English department.

Logan’s statement is as truthful as it is pointed. Would SDSU consider hiring a fraud as an academic professor as it would for an athletic coach? A professor who was a well-known plagiarist to the world would have a difficult time establishing both credibility and integrity inside the classroom. After all, how could a student take a cheating or plagiarism policy seriously after being lectured by a hypocritical professor?

It would be unfair, however, to disregard Scott for the assistant coach position based on his past offense. Though it is a concern not to be taken lightly, all eyes will be on him to ensure a positive working environment. Let’s just hope Scott tests as a new “positive” — a fantastic coach and inspiring role model for the team.

http://www.thedailyaztec.com/2011/09/coaches%E2%80%99-drug-history-hurts-sdsu-integrity-2/

Morning from Hell

Damn my forgetfulness.

Only I would drive 45 minutes to school (because of annoying morning traffic), only to realize I forgot my paper sitting in the printer. Oh, you know, the one I spent all night writing. Because my forgetfulness first began when I neglected to upload my paper into Google Docs, I had to drive back home to receive it, OR, get an incomplete.

So, I ran back to the parking structure, got in my car, started driving only to eventually be stuck in construction traffic, arguably worse than rush hour. Upon driving BACK to school (paper secured safely next to me!), the "Feed Me" gas sign my car likes to flash when its hungry turned on. And of course, because my life sucks, I could not find a parking spot when I arrived to school. I crossed my fingers my car wouldn't stall right then and there as I followed someone to their car to steal a parking spot.

I finally got to class 15 minutes before it ended.

And that, my friends, is the morning from Hell.

Nothing but a Forgotten Dream

I stumbled across something very interesting the other day—well, I had somewhat of a desire to search for it, and so I guess it was more intentional than coincidental. But, that’s just all mindless details.

When I was 18, my arrogance for my own writing abilities far exceeded its true potential. I’m not very confident about how or what I write anymore (and rightly so, though this humble realization came with many painful awakenings), but at the time, I thought my writing could conquer the world. Actually, I was confident it would.

And so, at 18, I attempted to write my first novel. Well, started I should say, or tried to start. The idea came after my grandfather died, a rather remarkable man whose story was never shared, a story I barely knew myself. And so, a seed was planted in my mind, which soon grew to a young idea, and eventually into a sturdy beginning to a novel that I was certain would become a classic. (Arrogant, I know.)

Well, ladies and gentlemen, I found it. I found the first and last chapters to this “award-winning” novel that I began when my life was just beginning. And although I must admit that my writing has improved in many ways since I was a child, (as apparent from the first posts on this blogs, and silly poems such as this one that I wrote as a kid), I must say that I was rather impressed with what I had to say. In fact, I was actually inspired…inspired to finish telling this untold and startling story.

I will admit that no one has yet to read it, and so, my satisfaction and motivation to pursue it, may actually be nothing but blindness and ignorance towards its stupidity. I’d share it with all of you on this blog (since it’s really not that much), or even explain the plot line (though it is rather undeveloped), but with my luck, some aspiring writer out there will find a publisher, expand on my “brilliant” idea, write a book, and show up on the New York Times Bestselling list, leaving me with nothing but this blog.

If you’re really that interested though, maybe I’ll tell you, someday—maybe. Probably not; depends who you are. But, if any publishers out there would like to take a 21 year-old’s 18 year old self’s story idea and make it into a real book, you know where to find me…or find my blog at least. I would definitely love to show it to you, as undeveloped as it may be.

But anyways, why am I telling you all of this? Because somewhere along the road of enlightenment I discovered a broken dream I forgot about long ago. And though that aspiration is now nothing more than a memory, I must say that rediscovering the first steps you made long ago remind you of how you got to where you are. Besides, I like re-reading things I've written, even if it is cringing and unbearable. It shows how much your writing has matured, how much you have grown, and how much life has changed.

And even if I never finish writing that book, or whatever it would've turned out to be, I'm glad it's no longer a forgotten dream, but rather an old dream replaced by different ones.