We are the "Someone"

It happened again yesterday...the tragic and unexpected event was then followed by the very expected would've, could've, should've thoughts and countless questions like... What were the warning signs? What could've driven someone to take so many lives? And WHY? Why did it have to happen at all? Speculations are made and, all the while, the spotlight seems to be on intervention as the sole means of prevention. "If only we would've intervened sooner," and "We should've payed more attention to the warning signs so this could've been avoided altogether." Well, I agree. There certainly were warning signs that someone should have paid more attention to, I can't argue there. But what is the source of the problem? How and when does it start? Who else should be held responsible for this kind of atrocity? Well, the problem usually begins as an inactive internal one, then it slowly, or sometimes quickly, becomes an active and very destructive one. Sufferring allows for weeds of hurt to settle in the soul while the absence of forgiveness or the presence of anger allow for the overgrowth of all things evil, right before emotional death sets in. The individual who committed the murders yesterday was already dead, spiritually speaking, even before he decided to take his own life. In becoming unfamiliar with life, he also lost his ability to respect its significance. So what caused the existence of these warning signs in the first place? An unresolved issue.

Probably much like you, I was watching the news for awhile yesterday...and I was waiting for? Some kind of answer that would bring about at least a slight sense of peace. The news didn't offer much relief; no surprise there. I heard what the psychologists had to say. They all seemed to agree that someone should've stepped-in a lot sooner, read the warning signs better. Though they each had their own ideas regarding what, exactly, could've driven someone to horrifically take the lives of so many, as the Virginia Tech killer did. I remember one psychologist's statement in particular (and this was voiced before discovering that the killer was actually a student) she said that for someone to engage in such a killing rampage, it's possible that the individual experienced some form of recent emotional trauma, like the loss of a loved one, caused by death or the end of a relationship. Instead of entering the grieving process, they'd chosen to act out their feelings of anger irrationally and violently. But, apparently, if that was the case, no one had seriously bothered to take any interest in the person's emotional state up to that deathly point of no return.

Those responsible for the Columbine incident awhile back were discovered to be seriously emotionally disturbed and unhappy kids; their parents weren't even entirely aware of their condition. And after that awful incident sent chills up and down our spine, we vowed to pay more attention, to spend more time asking all the right questions...but it happened again. We all want to be reassured that this kind of thing won't happen again, that the proper measures will be taken to ensure each person's safety. But how do we not only open our eyes to the emotionally unstable conditions of others, but also keep them open long enough to prevent those very individuals from contributing to someone else's broken state? Most of all, how do we limit the cause of those conditions? We are all pro-intervention, but what steps are we taking in order to actually prevent the problematic situations that require us to later intervene?

Sometimes we're watching the news waiting for the answers that we already have, and instead of acting on what we know but often ignore, we continue flipping the channels, hoping our inactivity won't haunt us again...


*My heart goes out to all those hurting as a result of the tragedy, and so do my prayers.

The Happiness Web

I just finished watching an Oprah episode a little while ago about happiness (Yes, I watch Oprah and I'm in my 20s...so what?! The world is still round! :). The show started off with a test; members of the audience and at-home viewers were asked to judge which of about 5 people presented were the happiest. It was a tough test; all these people we were supposed to judge had smiling faces. It turned out, some who were the happiest ended up having the hardest lives; one lady even lost quite a few people she loved in a short period of 6 months. So, what determined who was happy and who was not? Well, a lot of it had to do with the way they reflected on life, how they defined happiness, and even how they looked at their circumstances. It seems pretty obvious that those three things would play a vital role in keeping happiness alive. But how do you tell people who usually get the shorter end of the stick to tough it out and "think happy thoughts"? It seems unreasonable, so maybe you tell them something else.

One of the guest psychologists on the show claimed that, from his experiences, those who spent a large portion of their time complaining actually tended to fear happiness. He went on to say something to the effect that if someone has a habit of thinking negatively, and not expecting much from life, then they wouldn't have to worry about being let down, since they weren't truly happy to begin with. It was also suggested that happiness shouldn't be tied to an object or person; I guess that's why codependency in a relationship is so destructive. All these facts and suggestions sound valid and believable, but how practical are the pieces of advice, really? Well, it would definitely depend on who's listening. Someone with years of experience in thinking negative would have to be reconditioned. Something probably happened to spark the negative thought life, I'm pretty sure it didn't just randomly spring up on it's own. Sadly, Oprah mentioned that only 26% of the people in her audience during the show were truly happy. If that statistic was supposed to represent the percentage of genuinely happy people in America, then that doesn't say much about the rest of us, and psychologists definitely have their work cutout for them. But I can't help but wonder, why are we so unhappy or generally unsatisfied with our lives?

I can only speak for myself here, but I guess I can say a few things about what I've observed while taking 22 trips around the sun. On the down-side, it seems like the more I actually take the time to study the lives of those around me, the more I want to either stop looking or, quite the opposite, get involved. Sometimes it seems like we only have a few alternatives when it comes to our state of being: We can completely harden our hearts so that they are unmoved by the sadness around us; we can become actively involved and help others while remembering that we can only help a few since we are, in truth, limited human beings; we can get depressed about the fact that we can only do so much; or, we can get so focused on our own problems that we forget about everyone else and, in turn, become even more lonely as a result of our selfish outlook on life. I guess I prefer the second option, but I know my behavior doesn't always reflect this claim of mine.

And so it goes, every day I realize another way that I'm limited: I only have so much money, so much time, blah blah blah...but I also try to remind myself of how I'm actually a lot less limited than a majority of the people who live in this world. Now, I'm not about to tell you kiddos to eat your broccoli because there are starving children in Africa, but I will say this:

It's not wrong to realize your limitations, that's part of our job as humans, but it is wrong to not realize anything else.

And, folks, from what I've noticed, failing to realize that in itself is precisely what contributes to so much unhappiness. It's easy for us to focus on what we don't have; the "compare game" is a big, deceitful trap that makes us lose our way along the happiness path. In realizing your limitations, you're acknowledging that there will be times when you need help from someone else; BUT when you also realize that you still have something to offer in spite of your limitations, well, that's when you can help someone else. And what does that do? That not only gives you a sense of purpose that's essential for happiness, but it also connects you to someone else; companionship promotes acceptance as it scares away the demons of loneliness associated with depression, and it even allows for love's existence. Everyone knows that love is the main ingredient when it comes to cooking up a lifetime batch of true happiness!

All over the place!

When I think about all the things I want to do with this little life of mine, I can't help but realize that life, in general, isn't very long at all. I'm one of those people with way too many interests and the list, basically, keeps getting longer. There are a few things I know I need to do. I strongly believe that if anyone is alive and healthy, they shouldn't lead lives completely centered on just their own personal interests. We're alive to define love with action; some people do it indirectly, by donating money to a cause they support; some use their brains, they become doctors or engineers that develop prosthetic parts for those in need--the list goes on. Others take a more hands-on approach, they join organizations like the Peace Corps and Teach for America, or they might even work at a local food bank and tutor kids during their free-time. So, the only thing I'm really certain of, as far as my future is concerned, is that I will do my part as an active member of the human race, most likely as a teacher, but what about the other details? Like, how will I do it, and what will I do afterward?

Well, life is pretty chaotic right now. I'm still waiting for the gooey gallbladder removal, which I am anxiously awaiting! After that's over, and I'm no longer writhing in pain from the surgery, I'll probably do the office job thing for awhile. Just for AWHILE! I hate working in an office setting; it's not me! I don't particularly enjoy doing frivolous desk work, I'm more of a hands-on kind of gal. Whether I'm making food, taking pictures, painting, writing, crocheting, or making personalized cards, I always have to be doing something that involves creativity. The office job thing is only temporary, at least until Jose and I get settled down in whatever city he'll be attending law school. For now, he's shooting for schools along the East and West Coasts, and I am definitely excited. The cost of living in Texas is cheap, no argument there, but I miss the ocean and getting to see each season's beauty! I can't get certified to teach now because I'm probably not going to be in Texas for that much longer, unless Jose decides to stay at UT. We'll see, I won't really mind; I actually love Austin, even when I'm dying of heat stroke. The thought of grad school is definitely on the brain, and if I go, I'll most likely study Child Development or Developmental Psychology. I really enjoyed the child development courses I took in order to earn my minor in Education, and working with children is both meaningful and rewarding.

But, of course, there's the unwritten to-do list that I can't seem to get rid of! What else is on the ever-growing list? Well, among many other things, "attend culinary art school" is one of the recent additions. I guess I shouldn't say recent, considering I first entertained the idea around age 11, when I visited one of San Francisco's cooking academies. It was a memorable experience, and I have to admit that ever since then I've preferred strawberries wearing chocolate tuxedos over the plain ones. I think it's also in my blood, my grandparents used to have their own restaurant. But, honestly, living in Austin these past couple of years has made the idea of going to culinary art school even more real to me. There are so many quaint-cozy-cute little restaurants and stores that I've visited, and I thought it would be a lot of fun to open up a place that was a mix between the two, but not just any run-of-the-mill restaurant/store combo. Austin is known for it's quirkiness, so it would definitely have to stand-out, and because I'm a big fan of originality, I certainly wouldn't want to open up a place that's boring. I have a few ideas up my sleeve, but I don't want to mention too many of the details ! Jose has thought of possibly settling down in the Austin area after graduating from law school, so this plan of mine might actually turn out to be a pretty good one...

For now I'll try to stick with that old familiar cliche: Take it one day at a time! But then I realize the possibilities and get a little ahead of myself. Life really is exciting, isn't it? I just wish it was a little easier sometimes, but don't we all!

Dearest Ciccone, Goldfrapp, and Stefani, thank you for your eccentricities that never cease to entertain.

Yep, they're my three favorite non-blondes: Madonna Ciccone, Alison Goldfrapp, and Gwen Stefani. It doesn't matter how many times they bleach their hair, I'll love 'em even when it all falls out. Because, well, there's something these three gals have that I've decided they'll never be able to lose: their eccentricities.

Always wanting to stir-up some sort of media hype with her controversial ways, Madonna has been at the top of my list since the first time I danced with a made-over Barbie in hand, the one whose hair I so eagerly chopped off. I'd say that was around age 3, right after reflecting on the fact that Barbie definitely needed a haircut because she looked a little too commercialized for my taste. I guess you'd expect a precociously interesting 3 year old like that to make Madonna one of their icons. It didn't help that my mom was obsessed with her for the longest time...long before Billy Joel came out with that song, I'm sure... You know, way back when Madonna was still a dancer on the verge of releasing the first couple of hits, one of which dubbed her the Material Girl.

It didn't take long for Ciccone to "simma down" shortly after becoming Mrs. Ritchie. But it did take Stefani a little longer to become a solo recording artist. No complaints here, though. Props to Stefani for taking her time by studying art in college, then following through with her decision to be the lead singer of her brother's little OC band that, without a doubt, made it big, as their name would definitely suggest if their ability to succeed was ever questioned. Yep, No Doubt, you chose the right name. You also left the door wide open for Stefani to meet her fabulous now-hubby at a concert. Thanks to you, it doesn't matter if they get their towels mixed-up; same monogram, same difference. Now Stefani can even design her own towels, she's practically a renaissance woman. Her creativity is unparalleled. What can't that gal do? Oh, I know, she can't lose her eccentric ways. She can make a hit with Moby, She can sing like the nun on the Sound of Music, she's even played the rapping mom card...Critics can complain about how eccentric she's become, but is it really too much? As far as I'm concerned, she's not boring. Even though Stefani's been around for awhile, this Orange County girl isn't getting old. Some say she's reinvented herself, I disagree; this is just another side, she's multifaceted unlike so many other recording artists.

And if you want to hear my thoughts on Goldfrapp, check out my music blog!

Mmm Mmm Saltines and 7up anyone?

Ah! It's so wonderful to be back home! You know what physical feeling I hate almost more than any other? I mean, I feel like I can tolerate pain pretty well, but my real weakness is nausea! Ugh, I had this horrible stomach flu this weekend; it shot my white blood cell count through the roof and sent my appetite and dinner down the drain (lovely image, ha!)!

I started feeling sick on Friday around 2 AM, and I went to the doctor later that day. The doc took some tests, saw how high my white blood count was and then told me to go to ER. When I told her my gallbladder was gonna be removed in a few weeks, she thought I could have pancreatitis, which is a really bad thing that can happen to people if they leave their poorly functioning gallbladders in their bodies for too long. So, of course, when Jose and I heard this we freaked out, especially when the doc told us that I would have to stay in the hospital and not eat for two weeks if I did, in fact, have this awful pancreatitis thing. I only ended up spending the weekend in the hospital being poked and prodded, in addition to getting way too high off of the narcotics they gave me. Oh but believe me, my life is exciting enough, so I definitely don't need drugs, thank you very much! The good news is, my pancreas is healthy and happy! Fabulous! And although I'm personally quite happy to be out of the hospital, I'm still trying to get healthy!

Man, times like these make me the most grateful that I don't have an illness that requires me to stay in a hospital 24/7. I am not a very patient patient! I think God knows I'm not strong enough to handle that sort of thing, I guess that's why I haven't been placed me in that kind of situation. But believe me, I do wonder sometimes, it's been pretty tough these past couple of months! One thing I know for sure is that aside from all the health drama, I am very blessed. Jose has been so supportive and helpful. I don't think they would've let me leave the hospital today if it wasn't for him being there the whole time; it's amazing how love really does work better than any painkiller.

Anyway, I actually can't wait for the surgery! I had to reschedule the initial date, sadly, but now, in 18 more days, I should be feeling a whole lot better and I can't wait! Goodbye green gooey gallbladder!

Looking deeper into the issue...

The first newborn was discovered swaddled in a blanket on a park bench, an umbilical cord still hanging from his tiny body. Then, at neat 11-month intervals, two more abandoned babies were found in parked pickup trucks in the same neighborhood.

This week, DNA tests established all three babies were almost certainly born to the same mother.

This was taken from a disturbing article I read in The Examiner yesterday.

I understand that there are circumstances in which people give birth to children they cannot care for, but when is abandonment ever an option?

To me, one of the greatest forms of evil existing in this world is the mistreatment of children. I literally cringe when I see people emotionally degrading or abusing their kids in public; thinking about what they do to them behind closed doors saddens me even more. The reason why there are so many emotionally unstable adults is precisely because they were exposed to horrible things as children. It's as simple and complicated as that. It's easy to recognize the problem and much harder to fix it.

Sure, in cases like these, the government can step-in, which is what happened in California. Apparently, a law went into effect a few years ago allowing parents to "safely surrender" their children at certain locations, like hospitals. I'm glad to hear that as a result of that law, at least 182 lives have been saved. But this is just the beginning. What happens to the child after they fall into government hands? They probably form insecure attachments with their care takers, since it's likely they wander from one foster home to another, at least until they're adopted. Sometimes they're lucky and they actually get adopted. Sometimes not, then what?

And what about the other kids; the ones who were apparently "wanted", though they were born into dysfunctional families with parents so emotionally incompetent, they probably wouldn't even be qualified enough to take care of an animal, much less a child, if they had to pass a test. How do these children learn to trust when the very people they're supposed to be able to trust the most are unsafe human beings? Who teaches them how to love, can the government do that? Don't get me wrong, I applaud the government when it finally decides to step-in and implement laws that are there to give a voice to the voiceless, particularly children. The government isn't the only responsible party here, though. Even if the child's own parents are incapable of providing the emotional care they need, there are others out there who can. The "others" coming to mind right now are teachers, the child advocates.

I know there are some teachers that made me hate school like crazy, but I remember my awesome Kindergarten teacher. She made me want to come to school even though I was paranoid about knocking more teeth out as a result of one of those mean girls rudely pushing me off the monkey bars (true story, this is how I lost my first tooth!). Why was she so wonderful? Because she genuinely cared about her students. It's teachers like these that have inspired me to follow in their footsteps (ever so slowly, though, I have yet to get certified). However, I've also been inspired by the honest faces of children that are desperate for love. Even my brother is a great inspiration; he's 12 years younger than I am, and the most creative kid I know. (He was named the best artist in class! As his sister, I definitely have bragging rights. So brag I must.)

I love children, I admire their ability to be so candid and carefree. I know they can be a handful, I've had to babysit plenty, so I know. But in my 22 short years on this planet, I've never met such fascinating creatures, and I'm not expecting that to change. They have what most of us have lost, and I'm not about to start quoting one of the many I-believe-in-Santa-Claus movies that my Christmas-obsession has led me to watch, but it's easy to see. Kids can walk out the door wearing two different colored socks and they're still having a good day, maybe it's even better now, to them at least. The worst thing the kids at school will do is get a kick out of it, but you'll never see it in the tabloids, never hear anyone gossip about it (this does not apply to that mean girl I mentioned earlier! Though I am convinced her behavior was definitely a product of her upbringing!). This is why I get upset when I see parents, or anyone for that matter, mistreating kiddos. They pick-up things so fast, and even though it's easy to correct their bad behavior when they're young, it's really difficult for them to do it on their own when they're adults.

So, I guess it's ok if I criticize that mother for abandoning her three babies, as many others have? Why would I be wrong for doing it when her actions obviously failed to demonstrate love for her children? I've said it, it does hurt me to see children wronged. The truth is, though, this lady is probably operating off of the hurt she experienced as a child. My cousin once told me that hurt people, hurt people, and I agree. Even if I don't agree with what this lady did, I am left to feel sadness for her too, I can only imagine how big her need for love was and probably still is. All I have to say is that, really, there isn't much left to say regarding this issue, but there is plenty more to do, and I'm not just referring to myself. We're all responsible for each other.

There is no greater sickness in this world than the lack of love.
Mother Teresa

my scented and musical memories.

Sometimes I walk into a room and a scent catches my attention; one that reminds me of some other time, some other place, or even someone. The weird thing is, despite the fact that I associate certain scents with particular people or events, I couldn't describe or much less remember those scents at just any time; only in the fleeting moments they exist to wake up my olfactory glands.

My grandma's house has a smell, it's a mix of beans and onions. It isn't unpleasant at all, even though the description sounds like it should be :). My grandma is always cooking, and I think the various aromas from the different foods she's made throughout the years have embedded themselves into the fabrics and cushions. In fact, after chopping garlic and onions, my hands smell similar to hers.

...But then I come across the more indistinguishable scents; their smell is usually weak, almost like the faint smell of detergent that lingers on a jacket long after its been washed. I have a collection of those hidden away somewhere, and I can't always connect them with the people I've attached them to, but they belong to them like a fingerprint. I know psychology can offer an explanation, and I've heard that some doctors even suggest that their patients burn certain oils in order to lessen the severity of their ailments, as silly as it sounds. Still, I think it's peculiar and fascinating how a simple scent can so easily elicit an emotional response.

There is another device that my mind uses to remember people, places, and things. I know I'm not the only one that has this experience: A certain song comes on the radio, then I'm somewhere else, or talking to someone else, or even 19 years younger. 80s music does this to me the most! I know I was only able to experience 5 years of the slap-bracelet-obsessed 80s, but still, how can I forget learning to dance on my mom's feet as she led the way? I even remember riding in the car with her once late at night as we drove home from In-N-Out Burger listening to "Don't You Forget About Me" by Simple Minds. I don't have much in common with her (or my dad, for that matter, who she happened to marry at 18, when he was still a partyin-breakdancin-skateboardin-also-music lovin' kiddo!), our lives are almost the complete opposite, but my mom taught me how to love music (and even poetry, but that's another topic :). I think I picked-up my mom's music obsession at such a young age because she had me when she was pretty young; right out of high school, when she couldn't love music more. I miss that wonderful age, when blasting the music didn't bother her because David Bowie, Echo and the Bunnymen, The Psychedelic Furs, Madonna, and Depeche Mode, among others, would take turns making our world a better place in just 3 minutes and 44 seconds...It doesn't end there, though. My entire family is obsessed with it; I think it's genetic, my grandpa was a musician back in the day, so I think he's responsible. Music and dancing go hand and hand with us; I think it's what helps us connect the most. My cousins and I are all pretty different too, but if you see us when the music comes on, it's obvious that we're related. Even my rosary-praying grandma has her moves :)!

Anyway, these days, my mother is partly to blame for my childhood crush on Dave Gahan's voice :) (aka lead singer of Depeche Mode). Strange crush aside, I'm thankful that she not only taught me how to "put on [my] red shoes and dance the blues", but also how to really love music. I can go on and on about how much I love it...but I think you understand how much and why.