The good guy does win, but maybe not in today's romantic comedy.

I am a sucker for the sappy stuff. But when it comes to movies, that isn't always the case. Sure, I'm the typical Pride and Prejudice obsessed girl, and I can happily admit to watching the A&E version 5 times, but, these days, I'm not at all satisfied with how Hollywood portrays relationships, or even love, on the big screen. I guess it's my fault; most of the time I expect something grand to happen, the good guy wins in a not so suave and cheesy way (so that it's actually believable), and the girl isn't a completely lustful airhead with nothing to back up her looks and unusually cute clothes.

The 90s weren't so bad, though...then again, maybe I was just too young to notice? But I really didn't mind the silly romances that went on in movies like A Walk in the Clouds and My Best Friend's Wedding, because at least there was some kind of relationship that developed along with the plot, rather than just an immature adolescent-type fling. Nowadays, it seems like it's just about how fast you can take your clothes off with someone who only looks "good" (that is, until they open their mouth), has absolutely no respect for anyone, and doesn't seem to have a brain, much less an understanding of real love. Maybe that's a representation of what most relationships are really like in our emotionally dead time, at least the kind that revolve around pure selfish gain? It's a disturbing thought, and I don't want to believe it's true, but a part of me thinks it might be...

How did that saying ever get started? You know, the one that says something about how the good guy never wins? I don't think it's entirely true, but maybe it is when you're sitting in a theater watching the latest "chick flick". I guess if what I mentioned earlier was true (about how movie producers get their ideas from the typical modern day relationship) then maybe the good guy doesn't win? Not always...unless, I think, he's patient and truly a good guy, I mean, more than just nice and smart...something more along the lines of wise and emotionally intelligent. But I've seen this scenario way too many times: "Good" guy falls in love with a really attractive but not so good girl, and wonders why he's so sad when she not only turns him down, but laughs in his face while she does it. I put "good" in quotes because I don't think a genuinely good guy would fall for that kind of girl, he's obviously dumb for valuing her appearance over her character. In fact, he's probably objectifying her because he's only focusing on what gravity and time eventually wrinkle. Sure, I know a lot of seemingly nice guys that are guilty of this, but I doubt any girl with a brain would give them the time of day. Also, if any guy is willing to "fall" for a girl just because of her looks, then he obviously doesn't have what it takes to be in a lasting, meaningful relationship that's so paradoxically perfect with all its minor human imperfections, it couldn't even be kept in the pages of a great Jane Austen novel.

I know it's hard to find a romantic comedy worth watching, and I certainly know it's even harder to find a nice guy worth dating, or girl for that matter! (We don't live in a world where girls are dandy and made out of candy!) It's easy to say that all guys suck when you're a girl, and vice versa, but it's so not true! Really, it just takes time and patience. It's so easy to find someone who's easy, but it's so much more worth it to wait for someone who, long after the rings are exchanged, still makes you realize you'd wait for them all over again if you had to.

Thankful...everyday.

Sometimes I feel like all my memories are neatly filed in manila folders, divided into separate categories somewhere between the more scattered thoughts in my mind. Every now and then, I take inventory of their contents, making sure I haven't overlooked the details, as I file away the newer info (what's already been accepted and reflected on). Then the occasional emotional earthquake hits, throwing everything off, from my circadian rhythm to my breathing patterns; that's when everything organized gets scattered and tossed onto the floor. These unexpected shakes and quakes wake me up, and force me to clean the mess, or what would appear to be mere scraps of paper to a detached observer (though I'd never think of throwing any of them away, despite their dusty surfaces or wearing edges). What makes them so priceless, though they may be tinged with an interesting mix of salty tears and sweeter moments? Their inability to lose the countless lessons they teach.

There's an overflowing folder labeled childhood memories, and not until recently have I had the courage to open it up. I decided it was time to start sorting through it, while carefully taking note of the dates and emotions they're attached to; I don't want the events to inaccurately overlap and form erroneous stories of the past. So where do I begin? At the beginning...if I start from there, it's harder to lose my way.

One of the first learning lessons involves maintaining a thankful spirit in spite of any circumstance. I don't necessarily remember this memory as well as I'd like, but my mother shared her version of it with me. Unintentionally, she revealed how I could easily make it one of my own because of its ability to offer the kind of wisdom I'd need to make life meaningful. Why I can't remember it is partly due to the fact that after its occurrence, my mother did everything she could to avoid my knowledge of the struggle that gave birth to its existence. This struggle is poverty, a word I never used and didn't know applied to my mother and me, but now, thankfully, it's only associated with a memory.

The first few years of my life were the hardest for my mom and me, at least financially. In a desperate and hungry state, she'd search for change underneath our couch cushions so that she could buy milk. She wasn't working, and she was probably still married to my dad, who failed to pay her child support after their divorce. During my toddler years, I'd wear the dresses I outgrew as shirts, and a pair of little pants underneath. I also came to discover what food stamps were, and even got into the habit of asking my mother when we'd get new ones. Thankfully, my grandparents were a big help during this time; they allowed us to move in until my mom could get on her own two feet.

Thanks to a government program, my mom was trained to work as a legal secretary. We moved out of my grandparent's place around that time, and my mom continued keeping our financial situation hidden from me. Even if she had a broken-down car that needed repairs, or clothes that didn't fit right, she made sure I went to the best schools wherever we lived, that usually meant dishing out ridiculous amounts of money to a private school. She also made sure I knew how to speak English before starting kindergarten, because she didn't want me to struggle the way others have as a result of not being fluent speakers of the language. But I'm out of school now and, thankfully, I'm even out of college...with an English degree. What a surprise! And what a blessing it is that I can say any of these last few statments.

I'll never know what it's like to search underneath couch cushions, desperately hoping to find a few coins so that I can feed myself and my child. I'll never know what it's like to have to apply for welfare, or struggle to get financial/medical assistance because of a language barrier. But I'll always know what it's like to have more than I had before, and how can I not be thankful for that ?

Minds that complement each other

As I write this, Jose is studying for the LSAT...like crazy. I think he spent about 7 hours at his desk just yesterday, and now he's at it again. Sometimes I don't see how he does it; how the heck does he maintain a 4.0 while earning a double major in both Economics and Philosophy, then donate a kidney...and then expect himself to score no less than 171 on the LSAT?! That's certainly not like me. But, somehow, we suite each other quite well. I'm happy graduating college with just honors in my major, I'm far from "mathy", and I hate economics. In moments like these, when the pressure is on, and Jose's strutting his all too familiar Einstein hairdo (it's basically the look he gets when he's been studying too long; his hair stands on end and I can't help but laugh and think of Einstein whenever I see him that way) I try to convince him that we're still gonna be well-off in life as a team, even if he doesn't get into all the Ivy League schools he plans on applying to.

I'd die in law school. Funny thing is, I actually thought about going once. I figured, if I could persuade people on paper, maybe I could do it in real life. Then I realized there was much more to it! It's like it didn't occur to me how silly I'd feel working in the kind of environment that career calls for; it's so not me! In fact, lately I've even been moving further and further away from the idea of attending grad school. I'm sure I could do that, but I don't know that I'd necessarily enjoy it. I want a career that's rewarding and enjoyable, I don't think that's too much to ask for. So while in college, even though I often considered that the English stereotype might be somewhat true (basically the belief that we'll all end up selling our often jobless and desperate souls to some fast food chain not long after graduating) I decided that English was the major for me. I learned quite a bit as a result of taking so many English courses; to tell you the truth, it's amazing how much more I appreciate every book I read now than before I started down the literary path of over-anlyzation.

I love creating things from words, reading them, dissecting them...but, as far as grad school goes, I want to do something else. English was/is fun, but the future holds something different for moi. I still want to create things, but there are so many different mediums that can be used to make those "things", whatever I decide they'll be. I have a very strong feeling those "things" will be foods. I mentioned it before, but I really feel like culinary art school is the place for me; it's time to create poetry with food instead of words. I guess I've failed to live up to the English major stereotype, but, hey, I'll still be working with food!

For now, the kitchen is my experimentation zone, and whatever comes out of it, Jose eats with a smile on his face. Bless his heart; maybe his senses are completely desensitized from studying so much? Or maybe...just maybe...I do have an innate knack for cooking?! Who knows, but whatever the case, I think God definitely knew that Jose and I would be two ingredients that would complement each other like salt and pepper, however different we might be.


Our future is still kind of unclear, we don't know what side of the US we'll end up on, but it's fun not knowing, even so. A little uncertainty belongs to everyone, but when you're blessed with a relationship that's sure to last, the ambiguity isn't so frightening.

Staying focused, remaining hopeful.

As I write this, I am typing on my laptop very close to my bathroom. I'm sorry if I'm a bit too forward, but we all get sick; at one point or another, our lives revolve around a little porcelain god (aka the toilet bowl). Yes, the abdominal cramping is still here, but so is that distinguishable flicker in the dark, the single ray of hope that keeps me going....somehow. To clarify this situation (add an h to that word [situation], right before i, and you'll really know what I'm talkin' about ), bile acts as a laxative, and since my gallbladder is gone (and the gallbladder's job is to hold all that bile) it's basically headed straight for my colon and intestines. Lovely picture, isn't the human body fascinating? Now I miss my little gallbladder so much, he may have been tiny compared to the rest of my organs, but he obviously played a very important role as far as my digestive system is concerned. I miss that little green monster, but he had to go. The pathologist who examined my gallbladder made it official, after its removal he diagnosed it with chronic gallbladder disease.

Now that I've given you a run-down of how things are literally running down (don't you just love my imagery?), I'll move on to the more important issue at hand, all the while remembering to throw in a little humor because it keeps sanity entertained enough to stick around, especially in times like these.

Hope, it's a little word, but as I previously mentioned, my gallbladder was pretty small too. Don't underestimate the power of small things. It's the small things that help us get by, and they usually play a very vital role in our lives, whether we acknowledge it or not. Just one quick prayer, one second of capturing a negative thought and replacing it with a better one, one thoughtless phrase that could be spoken in anger, but it's held back instead -- they all make a world of difference, and as I get older, I'm realizing it more and more. All those examples I just gave, I've put them each into practice even though doing so is usually a struggle. Still, that sour taste in my mouth, it isn't from acid indigestion, it's from the words I've said that I've regretted saying...but oddly enough, it's also from the negative thing's life's served me on a platter, what I've blindly stuck in my mouth and spat back out after choking on the bones. I've come to accept that we all need to choke sometimes, just so that we can remember how much we take breathing for granted.

So what's life serving me today? The main dish is stomach pain, followed by my choice of either an unhealthy portion of complaining or an ulcer causing bowl of worry... but oh yeah, on the other side of the table, what I have to get up and get for myself, is that satisfying and sustaining serving of hope. I think I'll take that, at least for now (sometimes I forget to look around and realize I have other options, don't we all?). I'm getting up now, crawling of course, because of that awful dish of stomach pain that was on today's menu...but I'm making it to the other side of the table...there's still sight of hope, I can see it. Guess what? There's plenty left for the rest of those dining with me today, and I have a feeling it's on everyone else's table too.

It's not easy, remaining hopeful during the tough times is a challenge. But I'm up for it; hopefully I'll come to that same conclusion tomorrow.

Not venting, just being honest.

Lately it seems things have taken a turn for the worst. Other than the usual post-operative pain, I was doing great the first few weeks following my gallbladder surgery. I was able to eat "normal" again, and not feel like a geriatric 22 year old. Sadly, that's no longer the case. I've progressively become more sick these past couple of weeks. I haven't left my apartment in days, and I can't eat much either. It's incredibly frustrating because I was hoping to return to my normal life after getting my dysfunctional gallbladder removed. Now, after I eat, even though I might've been hungry beforehand, I end up feeling like I'm being punished by my own body afterward, with stomach pains that don't subside, bloating that leaves me feeling like a blimp, and nausea that lingers like bad breath after eating too much garlic.

I'm hoping this will eventually go away! I've heard some people experience digestive problems for only a few months following a gallbladder removal. I pray that I'm in that category; I've also heard that others suffer from chronic pain, though, having to stay close to a bathroom at all times and eat completely bland food while still feeling sick for the rest of their lives. Right now I feel like I have a perpetual stomach virus; it's very discouraging. I'm trying to remain hopeful, but when I'm surrounded by other college kids my age, and I see how healthy their bodies are, I can't help but get sad because I know I'm not one of them.

Gifts to reopen. Books!

For the past couple of hours I've been reading. Instead of cooking something up in the kitchen, like I usually do each afternoon, I decided to take a literary vacation. But now I'm taking a break from that, at least until I can find another book. I'll be finished with The Center of Everything in just a matter of hours; it's been an entertaining read, thanks to barnesandnoble.com. They're the source of my good book discoveries, and I guess I should also give credit to Amazon.com. So I'm back on their site (B&N), searching for another good find and reading reader reviews one at a time.

I've found a couple of books worth dedicating future Spring afternoons to, but sometimes I get tired of reading constrained adult fiction. When this happens, I head on over to the kiddie lit section where I'm sure I'll find a treasure, usually among the award winners. After flying through about 20 books in the Children's Lit course I took in college, I quickly realized that kiddie lit can be a lot more enlightening and sincerely heartwarming than a few of the adult reads that make it onto bestseller lists. But I think most adults don't really consider reading books with kiddos as the main characters, unless they have children of their own, but I don't see why they don't.

Below is a list that includes a few books I've thoroughly enjoyed reading. Even if you don't take your Flinstone vitamins and leave cookies out for Santa anymore, you'll still get something out of these delightful page-turners that will most likely keep you up past your bedtime.

• Stargirl By Jerry Spinelli
• Hope Was Here by Joan Bauer
• Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo
• Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
• The Giver by Lois Lowry
• Number the Stars by Lois Lowry

Fun around Austin: Thrift shopping.

I like old things. I am not a fan of the new car or new house smell. This is exactly why I enjoy shopping at second-hand stores. My mom introduced me to the idea when I was a lot younger; she doesn't like new things either. When we lived in our newly built home in San Angelo years ago, my mom still insisted on decorating our place with little this-thats collected from various thrift stores located on the outskirts of town. One day, I almost bought a vintage wedding dress from the 19th century in one of the stores we visited, it was so cheap considering the year it was made! Later in high school I started collecting vintage purses. They were all so fairly priced when I got my hands on them; here in Austin, you can't easily find cute bargain purses like that, let me tell you.

Jose and I have recently taken up thrift shopping together, it's been fun, but sometimes disappointing. Thrift shopping has definitely become more of a trend, especially in artsy cities like Austin, and I think the Goodwill has picked up on it. Gone are the days when the Goodwill uses leftover grocery bags from who-knows-where to pack-up their customers precious items. Now they have a logo on them! How long have they had those neon green and blue letters on their factory ordered bags? Have I really been out of the Goodwill circle for that long? Part of the reason why I used to love going to the unheard of, unpopular thrift stores is because they're set up like a treasure hunt: everything is randomly scattered around and, with a keen eye for one-of-a-kind objects, you're forced to search for what you really want. Initially you may not know what you "really" want, but you'll know once you see it; it'll probably be something like another faded and fun, but very nostalgic-to-someone wood carving, plate, or salt and pepper shaker set. I've definitely found my share of old oddities, but lately I haven't had much luck. Why? Because everything has already been dusted off for me, not to mention perfectly stacked on the shelf as if it were a brand spankin' new department store item lacking character and a personal history.

There is a solution to the problem, at least for those who are sincerely interested in one, it's called, the estate/garage sale! Sometimes they can be a bit frustrating, since you have to plan ahead and set a date when you can hit the sales early in the morning to avoid the crowds and acquire the goods, but the sales are worth it. If you're willing to look, which you probably are if you are an avid thrifter, you'll be rewarded for your patience. The first estate sale Jose and I visited was put on by the family of an older couple who had passed away. Yes, the thought of visiting an estate sale is quite sad, but just think how happy the former owners would be to discover that someone is picking up where they left off, taking part in the history making process of an original piece of art they valued while here on Earth. And, yes, I do view old items as art, at least most of them. I understand that some lose their sparkle with time, but it's the thrift shopper's/antique collecter's responsibility to prevent this from happening.

I'll miss hearing that Carole King theme song...

I have to admit, I am more than just a tiny bit blue that next Tuesday night will be the final evening I'll get to take a trip, via my TV of course, to Star's Hollow. Ever since the first episode aired early on in my high school years, I was guaranteed more than just meager entertainment for one quickly passing hour per week; even then I wanted to see more! Lorelai and Rory's witty banter made the show; the cozy little house they lived in, along with the bed and breakfast Lorelai came to own many episodes into the show were just a few of the added treats that represented what the Gilmore Girls were all about: Total fun and unparalleled originality. And...who wouldn't want to live in a town like the magically fantastic and uncommercialized Star's Hollow? It was simple but cute; left uncorrupted by the usually dominating and artificial pop culture; not to mention, it was nothing like the small towns I've previously resided in.

Really, I can go on and on as to why I have been a dedicated fan of this charming and engaging show; before I say anything else, though, I have to mention how I had never (ever!) before watched a TV series from beginning to end until the Gilmore Girls came along. I have yet to find another show that I find as addicting. I don't really feel I'm all that picky, really, it seems I'm looking for simplicity. I don't want exaggerated and unbelievable drama, or even another silly reality TV show that fallaciously claims to be true to life. Acting should be like putting on make-up, just provide enough emotion to creatively enhance the entertainment experience; a little goes a long way.