Mi Media Naranja

Dude. Ever since Philosophy existed, people have been thinking about love. (Which is kinda like fighting for peace... and we know what that's like.)

Plato, in The Symposium, writes about the purpose and nature of love. This philosophical text is allegedly where we get the phrase "looking for our other half," the idea ironically introduced by the comic playwright character Aristophanes.

Oh, the elusive SOULMATE. Where art thou?

Don't get me started about Platonic love, aka Secret Love or Unrequited Love. From Wikipedia: "In short, with genuine platonic love, the beautiful or lovely other person inspires the mind and the soul and directs one's attention to spiritual things. One proceeds from recognition of the beauty of another to appreciation of beauty as it exists apart from any individual, to consideration of divinity, the source of beauty, to love of divinity."

Platonic love brings you closer to God and all things beautiful. And Buddha would say Love is Desire is Suffering. Overlaps? Ponder that! I say.

Thought of the night

How would you like to spend your day? How do you actually spend your day?

I think Happiness lies in how much those two answers overlap.

Day 9: Feenin' for Facebook

I wanted to log on so badly today. What was life like before I had a Facebook home page with notifications about everyone? I know I exist outside of my FB account, but what about everyone else? What is my brother who is stationed overseas up to today? Did he remember to wish our other brother a happy birthday? Oh wait. I think that's what email is for. What about that distant acquaintance that was part of my performance art group? What is her witty and clever self up to in Scotland? See? Why do I need to know that? I don't. Especially when I should be doing other productive things like writing Chemistry lab reports, catching up with my pregnant BFF, or knitting.

At least I remembered a few important birthdays without needing a birthday reminder. Dementia and serious memory loss have not set in yet, though on some days I wish I could convincingly plead old age. That way I can be excused for my crabbiness and irritability. Although.... I think that men get a better deal. Mean old men are still charming in a way. LIke, "Ha! It's so awesome how Old Man Wilson cusses everyone out for no reason." Old women are expected to be sweet and grandmotherly. Otherwise, she's just the bitchy old hag with too many cats or something.

Ok. enough with my rant. Maybe I just need good conversation and human contact.

Half dome planning

permits

Cold French Fries.

Until this past summer my dad had commuted 80 miles a day, round trip, every weekday between work and home. It was a dependable routine. Wake up, make coffee, shower, take lunch, start driving, eat breakfast, work for 8 hours (with lunch break), drive home, get home in time for dinner, or dinner and the Lakers (during bball season), pack leftovers for next day's lunch, a little more tv, sleep.

When I was younger, he would sometimes buy his lunch at an eatery near work. It was always the same: fried chicken and french fries. Maybe with vanilla tootsie rolls for a sweet snack. I knew what he ate because he would bring some home of his leftover meal for me and my brothers and I to eat. The french fries were cold but I loved them. Growing up we occasionally went out for fast food, but the majority of the time my mom cooked. And fries were GOOD. (Not actually delicious, but if you are a fry lover who doesn't eat them daily, leftover fries are yum... and please be reminded, memories are constructs.) If Dad came home with a styrofoam to-go box in his hand I knew that I could have a pre-dinner snack of sometimes reheated, often not, french fries. I'm not sure whether he couldn't finish it or whether he knew we'd eat them, but there was always leftovers from his bought lunches.

I ate a couple of cold fries yesterday at work, leftover from the meal I had hours before. It brought be back my memory of those times, when life was simpler and we were all less wasteful. Oh, my nostalgia fries. Granted we were poor, but it didn't matter. Or we didn't notice because my parents worked hard and did an awesome job. I want that. I want sweet (not the flavor, the feeling).

I want simple.

Day 1: My Facebook Hiatus

Yesterday I changed my FB status to read something like "Kim Ta is conducting a test. Going on a FB hiatus for the month of November. Will I become more or less distant from people? If you need to reach me, please call or email."

I realized I had been spending entirely too much time on the social networking site, updating my status, clicking here and there on peoples' links and pictures. It was at least an hour at a time, no less. I had an idea of what my FB friends were up to even though I didn't hear their voices. I'm glad I can find out about things like the passing of an old friend (not a FB friend) via the site. There are awesome events people tell me about. And I get excited to see what clever and fun things people are sharing. But I started feeling like I forgot how to really be in touch with people. What if I started speaking like I was updating my status? What if I lose the meaning of a friendship with the friends I have FB friended? Or with the friends that are NOT my friends on Facebook? That would suck.

Who knows... maybe I'll be more productive and proactive with my time.

So I'll post updates about how this experiment is going from time to time. I wonder what I will me missing. Or gladly not missing from not signing on. OR maybe the point is to stop wondering and pick up the phone.

Possibility Girl

by Andre Jordan

¡Con ganas!

I had an exuberant Spanish 2 professor who, on the first day, wrote CON GANAS on the board. She told us that it was her expectation that we live, learn and participate "Con ganas," which she shouted with as much eagerness as she wanted us to have, fist in the air and all. Life is too short to passively sit back a watch it happen. If you feel like doing something with half of your passion, a portion of your desire, and a fraction of your energy, then WHY DO IT? It was infectious to watch a woman, a few years shy of retirement, bounce around the classroom, encouraging everyone to take life by the horns and ride it. Corny, but I'm all about corny.

Confession: I have not been living well. I have not been writing, creating, reflecting, or really thinking all that hard...and it sucks! I think that's why I'm in a funk. I have been missing the discipline to succeed, the passion to participate, hunger to be the best and the compassion to help.

All right. Enough with the lamentation. Time to get out there and live this wonderful life. Back to the list. Back to my goals. Back on track!

¡CON GANAS!

Cellar door

Speaking of random things to get excited about. This is my latest. Just started poking around, but I really want to know who said it first? Why/how/when did "cellar door" become the most phonaesthetically pleasing word in the English language. And is it more fun to form then, say, the word "hemlock?" Is it the combination of L's and R's that makes it so magical? More on this.

If I was a high school chemistry teacher...

These are some of the jokes I would tell:

On the first day-
Q. Chemistry is about matter and energy. Everything is made of matter. So... What's the matter?

A. EVERYTHING IS THE MATTER.


When learning about nomenclature and naming molecules
Q. Which is the Ugliest Molecule? (some knowledge of another language is required)

A: Iron (II) Oxide. (FeO)


If it wasn't slightly inappropriate, I would wear this when we learn about measuring volume.



I would be the teacher that everyone rolled their eyes at... or something.

Triathlon shopping

HERE WE GO! Going to commit to one or two of these.

Encinitas Triathlon - Encinitas, May 2011 $85
What I like: It is open water, but since it's in the spring, it will give me time to get better at swimming and get a bike.

Pasadena Triathlon - Pasadena, March 2011
What I like: Pool swimming, reverse tri, limited to 600 participants
What I don't like: $85

Race on the Base - Los Alamitos, Feb 2011 $65
What I like: Pool swimming, reverse tri

CSULB Triathlon = Long Beach, Feb 2011?
What I like: Pool swimming, reverse tri
What I don't like: 4 bike loops



Fun races to consider:
Scavenger Dash

Tour de Palm Springs
A training race? Feb 2011

Ba: My caretaker, my teacher, my hero

How do you write a eulogy? How do you reduce the richness and depth of a person's life into a few minutes? I knew that I had to write from my heart and I had already done that Monday night, so I based my grandmother's eulogy on that post. I wanted to put this up for those who could not be at the funeral services and for those who want to re-read. Thank you for your sympathy.

-----

Dear guests, Kihn thua cac Cu, bac, co chu, chau muon xin loi, chau khong noi tieng viet kha. Chau muon noi truyen ve ba noi chau tu long, tu ruot, Chau phai dung tieng anh. (This is me apologizing for not doing the speech in Vietnamese.)

It is an honor for me to have been asked to speak about my grandmother as we come together to celebrate her life. It means a lot to me to be able to share with you what a remarkable woman she was.

Born in 1919, she was tuoi Ky Mui, or Earth Sheep. We shared the same zodiac sign, me and my grandmother, or as I called her just Bà. People can be of the same Vietnamese zodiac animal but differ in the heavenly stem associated with that year, so it is worth mentioning that we are both Ky Mui. I wonder if that has anything to do with how close I feel to her.

According to some sources this means that we are supposed to be: Righteous, sincere, sympathetic, creative, gentle, compassionate, mothering, determined, peaceful, generous. Can be indecisive, over-passive, worrier, over-sensitive, complainer. I am not sure whether I am all these, but if I am anything like my grandmother, I am lucky.

Yes, she was a worrier and mothering and compassionate, but to all of us she was our caretaker, she was our teacher and she was our hero.

Ba had the best garden! I used to love walking and playing with my brothers among her roses, peach trees, and other flowers. I attribute her green thumb to her discipline and love. Every day, after her morning exercises she would tend to her plants with care and compassion. Down to the trashcan that collected rainwater and condensation, she paid attention to every detail. Just as she fed and watered her plants until they blossomed, she also guided, nourished, and cared for her children and grandchildren. She used to make me put on my sweater every time I went outside. I didn't like it because my long sleeve would get bunched up in the sweater's sleeve as she put my arm through and it felt uncomfortable. "Did you eat?" meant "I love you." If I was being a fussy eater, Bà would take me and my bowl of food to the front yard. There she would distract me by pointing and the birds and asking "what is that?" in Vietnamese. As my mouth opened in awe or to say WOW, in came a spoonful of rice. I fell for it every time until my meal was done.

After she moved out of the LA house and into the one in OC, I would occasionally bring food to her and my uncle. By this time she was strictly vegetarian, I was finished with college, working in the area, and Bà was beginning to need help with day-to-day activities. So I volunteered to trim her fingernails and toenails. I have to admit that when I pulled off her sock the first time to clip her toenails, I was disgusted. I never thought I would be that close to someone’s feet before. But as I clipped and cut and massaged her toes, I felt an overwhelming sense of humility. I am so fortunate to be able to do this. I was thankful I had the time, energy, and ability to come over and help. This brought me so much closer to her.
Eventually, these visits became routine. I would trim nails at the same time to remind myself that she was due for a trim--if my nails were long, so were hers. My Vietnamese isn't very good, but we were able to work out an understanding, a fair trade. After I finished with her mani/pedis and she ate her food I sat there and she told me stories. Everyone of us remembers her stories. She told me about how as a child she was a little rascal who used to hop over fences and eat fruit from neighbors' trees. It was funny how she punctuated every sentence with a “Troi Dat Oi” "Mô Phâ.t!" or a clap, as she laughed with her entire body.

She told me how the family used to have a cement company in Northern Vietnam until they had to move South, away from the invading forces. It was all so fascinating to me. I loved listening to her. She spoke with her hands and you could see every emotion come through her expressions: the excitement, the fear, the relief that they made it through.
Even in times of war and chaos my amazing grandmother was able to keep her family safe. After the Fall of Saigon in 1975 she was able to reunite everyone. Even 10, 20, and 30 years after being in the United States, her children living all over she was still able to reunite people for her birthday. She is even bringing the family together today to celebrate her life and help her pass onto her afterlife. This is what makes her my hero.

There is so much more; it would take days for me to recount every detail. There is a photo collage board I prepared in the back, filled with memories. After the service, I invite you to take a look at it. Though I could have, I did not fill the board completely. There are still empty areas where many of other people’s memories of Bà can fit. A few of my cousins wanted me to share some words with you about her:

Chi Quynh Christine – Colorado
Bà was such an amazing person--I do remember all of her passionate/fiery storytelling, and all the loving meticulousness she always put into caring for family when she was young and able. It was hard to see her age, especially in these last years.

Chi Tu – New Orleans
I am so blessed to have Ba as my grandmother. She was a such joy to be around. Her laughs were always loud and so cheerful. She was a brave, caring, thoughtful and wonderful woman. I loved the way she told stories. They were intense, exaggerated, and so interesting. I will cherish the memories I have of her and the times we spent together. I will miss her greatly. I love you, Ba.

Chi Lan Anh – New Orleans
Ba was such an incredible and nurturing person; when we visited, she always made sure we were comfortable and never hungry. I have many fond memories of Ba, all of which are filled with lots of joy from the times when she was strong and lively. The most memorable to me were the times when we sat at the dining table, eating her Rice Crispy treats while she told us stories from Vietnam
I'll also never forget walking to the grocery store with Ba. When it came time to pay, she would pull out money from her home-made secret pocket. I remember thinking how neat that was, such a clever idea.
Living so far away from Ba, I didn't get a chance to be with her as much as I wish I could have, but the wonderful memories I have of her will remain vivid and will constantly be in my thoughts.
Ba, I miss you and love you very much.

In her last month I tried to come by once a weekend to help change her diaper, get her out of bed, feed her. I got to know Bà in her most vulnerable state. I did things for her I never imagined I'd do for another person. Most of these interactions were done in silence because her hearing was so far gone she didn't wear her hearing aids anymore. Crude sign language, eye contact and smiles. No more stories. Just smiles. I saw her last Saturday. She didn’t want to eat and was being fussy. So I put on her sweater, making sure he shirt sleeve did not get bunched up in the sweater sleeve, and I wheeled her outside in her wheelchair, around the neighborhood. I pointed and showed her the big white ducks. And she said her own version of WOW.

On the morning that we found out she passed away, one of my aunts gave me a big hug and thanked me for helping to take care of Bà. I told her not to thank me and I meant it. It was all my pleasure. I had the privilege of spending time with her. Being able to hear the stories. Doing for her what she did for me when I was too young to do it myself. To take care of her. To be with her. I should be the one doing the thanking.

Thank you Bà, my caretaker, my teacher, my hero. I love you.

Ky Mui - My grandmother and me

Earth Sheep / 1919, 1979
Righteous, sincere, sympathetic, mild-mannered, shy, artistic, creative, gentle, compassionate, understanding, mothering, determined, peaceful, generous, seeks security. Can be moody, indecisive, over-passive, worrier, pessimistic, over-sensitive, complainer.


We shared the same zodiac year and attribute. People can be of the same Vietnamese zodiac year but differ in the heavenly stem associated with that year. I wonder if that has anything to do with how close I feel to her.

Things I remember:

I never had hair past my shoulders as a child. I used to love watching Bà undo the tight chignon (bun) in which her hair was pinned. I don't know if she knew I was watching, but I always felt like I wasn't supposed to see her with her hair down. Her hair would unravel and reach at least her waist. And she would comb it with a straight comb, not brush, starting from her scalp all the way down to the ends. (We have good hair.) Apparently, that hairstyle had been associated with either French elegance or Vietnamese nationalist resistance at different points in history. Hm... I kind of think for my grandma it was easy and fashionable.

If I was being a fussy eater, Bà would take me and my bowl of rice/food to the front yard. There she would distract me by pointing and the birds and asking "what is that?" in Vietnamese. As my mouth opened in awe or to say WOW, in came a spoonful of rice. I fell for it every time until my meal was done.

Bà told me once that my forehead (five-head) meant that no one would be able to take advantage of me. Interesting.

After she moved out of the LA house and into the one in OC, I would occasionally bring food to her and my uncle. By this time she was strictly vegetarian, I was out of college, working in the area, and she was beginning to need help with day to day activities. So i volunteered to trim her fingernails and toenails. I would trim mine at the same time to remind myself that she was due for a trim--if my nails were long, so were hers. My Vietnamese isn't very good, but we were able to work out an understanding. I brought her food and mani/pedis, and she told me stories. She told me about how she used to hop over fences and eat fruit from neighbors' trees. She told me how the family used to have a cement company in Northern Vietnam until they had to move South. It was all so fascinating. I loved listening to her. She spoke with her hands and you could see every emotion come through her expressions: the excitement, the fear, the relief that they made it through. It was funny how she punctuated every sentence with a "Mô Phâ.t!" or a clap.

There is so much more; it would take days for me to recount every detail.

In her last days I tried to come by once a weekend (because the home health nurse didn't come on weekends) to change her diaper, get her out of bed, feed her. I got to know Bà in her most vulnerable state. I did things for her I never imagined I'd do for another person. Most of these interactions were done in silence because her hearing was so far gone she didn't wear her aids anymore. Crude sign language, eye contact and smiles. No stories. Just smiles. I watched her slip away more each time I saw her.

This morning we found out she passed away during the night.

One of my aunts gave me a big hug when she saw me and thanked me for helping to take care of Ba. I told her not to thank me and I meant it. It was all my pleasure... pure self-interest. I had the privilege of spending time with her. Being able to hear the stories. Doing for her what she did for me when I was too young to do it myself. To take care of her. To be with her. I should be the one doing the thanking.

Thank you Bà. I love you.

Up: Carl and Ellie

So I have a thing for Disney movies, especially Pixar collaborations. There, I said it.

Months ago, I saw a glimpse of the type of relationship I have been looking for. Yes, in a Disney movie. Call me sappy or hopeless, but the idealism in me still lives behind the sewn together patches and bits of my heart. She is Ellie, an adventurous spirit and he, Carl, is the one who loves her. In the beginning of the movie, Carl and Ellie meet and it goes into a montage of the couple lovingly growing old together. It's a relatively short part of the movie, but it was the part I remembered best. Getting married, building a home together, their challenges, their affection for one another. The love was in the details.

(sigh...)


On another note:

I will be done with my prerequisites next month and will be able to apply for schools (FINALLY!) The part of me that wants it all tells me that it might be time to look for Mr. Right while looking for the right nursing school/program. So much easier said than done. Factors in choosing a nursing program:

- How fast I can get started: Down with waiting lists!
- How soon I can work as an RN: Includes reputation of school, how long the program is, % of new grads with jobs,
- Cost: Consider my final debt to income ratio, support system, whether I can work at the same time
- Location: I've always wanted to live somewhere beyond SoCal
- Associated vs. Second Bachelor's vs. Masters
- What kind of nursing do I want to end up doing in the end? FNP, ICU, ER, Pediatric, other?

Decisions. Decisions.

Is this going with me?

Or against me?

How to make your heart and mind work together

Dream

For the past two nights I have woken up from dreams. I'm not sure what's going on with me internally (stress, hormones,diet etc.) or externally (body, neck position, etc) that is causing me to remember my dreams but I feel compelled to start writing them down since I don't usually remember them--to the point where I question whether I have them at all.

This one was interesting because it involved applying for a job at the organization where I used to work as a community organizer, but in a much different capacity than I had previously worked. It was for a supervisor/coordinator for the employment access and job training program. It was the portion of the interview where a classroom full of people could get to know the candidates: some of the people in the program, the employees of the organization, and community members. They asked the 4-5 candidates, "What would make you a good lawyer? Why are you applying for this job?" Question itself was random and it kind of threw me off, but I had my answer.

I waited until the other people spoke. I don't remember what they said, but I do remember what I said. I said I'm not applying to become a lawyer, but a humble leader and strong facilitator. But what I do know is that a Coordinator is essentially an advocate--an advocate for clients, the program, and her staff. (Part of this dream made me miss my former coordinator at the organization.) I spoke clearly and confidently about how I observed that this program meets that needs of individuals on a basic level, serves the people, builds dignity, and in turn strengthens the sense of community in the area. I have long admired the fact that after basic job training, people feel compelled to return and give on the backside. After they have found jobs and/or gotten themselves settled. The backflow on the backside was why I wanted to apply for the position and what I felt the strength of the program was.

I woke up really wanting to go back to doing community work. I woke up really wanting that job.

It got me thinking about how much different I am (or the same) after having left the organization 4 years ago. A lot has happened in that time. I have been working as an EMT now for two years and everything about it has made me a better person. Running emergency-911 calls and inter-facility transports between hospitals for the sick and recovering has introduced me to a myriad of different personalities of different social, economic and ethnic backgrounds. From Huntington Park to Huntington Beach, I have served people at their most vulnerable...sometimes thanklessly. It has taught me patience, humility, to trust my skills and to stick to my convictions while observing protocol and respecting policy. I am thankful for the opportunity to be doing what I do for a living. But I do want more. I know I can do more. Learn more. Grow more.

I think that's what this dream was about.

Did you eat?

Means
I Love You

[heart] this

Si tú me olvidas

Quiero que sepas
una cosa.

Tú sabes cómo es esto:
si miro
la luna de cristal, la rama roja
del lento otoño en mi ventana,
si toco
junto al fuego
la impalpable ceniza
o el arrugado cuerpo de la leña,
todo me lleva a ti,
como si todo lo que existe,
aromas, luz, metales,
fueran pequeños barcos que navegan
hacia las islas tuyas que me aguardan.

Ahora bien,
si poco a poco dejas de quererme
dejaré de quererte poco a poco.

Si de pronto
me olvidas
no me busques,
que ya te habré olvidado.

Si consideras largo y loco
el viento de banderas
que pasa por mi vida
y te decides
a dejarme a la orilla
del corazón en que tengo raíces,
piensa
que en ese día,
a esa hora
levantaré los brazos
y saldrán mis raíces
a buscar otra tierra.

Pero
si cada día,
cada hora
sientes que a mí estás destinada
con dulzura implacable.
Si cada día sube
una flor a tus labios a buscarme,
ay amor mío, ay mía,
en mí todo ese fuego se repite,
en mí nada se apaga ni se olvida,
mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada,
y mientras vivas estará en tus brazos
sin salir de los míos.

~Pablo Neruda

Sigh

I love it when the groom is moved to tears as he says his vows.

Things I'm thinking about

The Story of Stuff
Hoping my parents' packrat and hoarding tendencies are not hereditary. This is not to say the house has things piled to the ceiling with narrow tunnels to get from one room to the next, but we do have a lot of stuff.

Getting Things Done
About
How
Feasibility- GTD seems really stoic and sterile. I think that we as humans need instructions and guides like this because we tend to get distracted from what we initially deemed important priorities. I'd like to say that I'm able to make goals and stick to them, but I wonder if I would be more efficient of I thought more like a machine--cut out the fat, eliminated the excess, focused on the tasks at hand, and attacked my new to-do lists with precision. But I like my distractions. Stopping to smell the flowers has been what keeps me going. *sigh* What to do, what to do.

I'm going to get rid of some no-longer-needed things in my life.

Borrowed