on a sunday

had breakfast with shel before church, and we talked about photography.  i am so inspired by her dedication to pursue a career in photography.

our styles are different.  she wants to do boudoir, infant, and maternity.  i am more of a documentary photographer.  and portraits.

we talked about how i should do senior portraits because she says im great with kids, and i think id love that. do some shots at the beach or some nice area with grass.

i am so fortunate to be living here in this coast because lets face it, every day is wicked beautiful.  except on friday when it rained for a few hours.  it was so minor, but the news made it seem so fucking heavy.

if we got an inch, id be impressed.  im sure it was nothing more than that.

so, it got me thinking when shel suggested senior portraits.  its something i want to tackle.  she gave me an assignment to open a pintrest account and pin some good pics.

i really try to avoid social media, but ive been toying with the idea of getting twitter, just because i come up with some shit that i want to share, but no one seems appropriate.

and really, i would just be documenting for me and no one else, so we shall see.

i refuse to get a facebook unless i pursue senior portraits.

maybe do lifestyle photography.  its as close to photojournalism as i can get right now.

*****
friday nite, i photographed van's parent's 50th wedding anniversary, and my best shots - the money shots - were of these two little ones.  they were precious.

i was so grateful for the lighting, which produced a great effect.  but when the lights dimmed, it was all blue and shit.  but whatever.

this family is so amazing.  nice, compassionate, accepting.  i think thats the problem with my family.  we are so judgemental, and i have to catch myself when i start being that way.

there were so many people there, a true testament to their marriage and their love for not only each other but to others, including me.

it makes me weep happy tears.

*****
this november was really hard on me.

i was battling some feelings of anxiety and depression, and i fucking refuse, refuse, to allow it in my life. primarily, i believe it was because i skipped two weeks of yoga, and secondarily, i was having a struggle with the time change and the cold.

but cold is a relative term for the weather here, i know.

its cold in the east coast, but again, relative.  because its always frozen in antarctica.

anyway, this past month was a fucking ass kicker.  more specifically, my ass.  but i spoke with some people, and they were in some sort of struggle themselves.

*****
i am in transition.

i feel as if i am shedding parts of me, parts of my life, that no longer serve me, and even though i am grateful, it is involuntary, and it fucking sucks sometimes.

my primary shedding is financial.  totally involuntary, but needed in order to grow and allow for new abundances.  and i feel that there will be a financial boon coming to me.  i dont know from where, but thats not up to me to decide.  i just have to put it out there, be grateful for its arrival, and wait.

my feelings regarding money have evolved as well.  i have finally embraced that money is not bad, that its good, that it serves purposes that i need to have served, that it is the blind pursuit and love of it above all else that is purely evil.

but why label?  it is what it is.

this is what i believe.  and i dont know how i know, but i do.

perhaps its from meditaion.  not that im hardcore or fully mindful, but i participated in the 21-day meditation, courtesy of oprah and deepak.

*****
what else have i shed?

oh, yes.

some lbs.  not much, but some.  i have been eating salad, not necessarily because i want to, but i crave it so.

the one from a certain fast food chain is really good.  probably its because of the lite honey vinaigrette dressing.  i only use half of it because the salad i get is pretty small.

i used to crave a chicken cobb from another fast food chain, but it was too much chicken for me.  and too much bacon.  and too much feta.  and too much egg.

i know.  i should just get the lettuce.

tjs has a fantastic bistro salad made of kale, edamame, cranberries, and almond slivers.  sooo fucking good.

at thanksgiving, my lovable yet highly critical grandmother told me that i lost weight.  it was pretty devastating since i planned to eat a whole lot of food since i hadnt eaten all day.

ironically, without intention, i could only shove half of what i put on my plate into my mouth.  thanks, grandma.  i mean that half sarcastically, and half with gratitude.  well, mostly with gratitude because who needs all that food in my frame?

my main goal is to be healthy.

my cousine came down and spent a weekend with us.  she is on a no carb diet.  i fucking admire her discipline.  she and my sister were all up on that shit.

i wish i can be that disciplined, but i dont have to be.  i dont eat as much carbs as they do.  i know this because 1) my diet consists of little amount of carbs, 2) i do not have a sweet tooth (except for a few days of the month), 3) i am addicted to rice.

its the filipina in me.

*****
so to update all y'all on the situation between me and rtw, ill begin by saying that i love that man.

i love his sense of humor, his musical tastes, his height, his awesome sexiness, his intelligence, his nerdiness, his book choices, his love of for his daughter, his goofiness, his imperfect perfection, his acceptance of me, his sweetness.

however.

i have to also accept somethings about him, such as him not saying he loves me (even though he acts like he does, i need to hear the words...im such a vagina sometimes), him not making plans to see each other, him not being free because of his little love, him still connected to the mother of his child (even though his divorce became final a few weeks ago), him not always communicating his feelings and thoughts (even though he says he tells me everything...i dont doubt that, but i need deeper sometimes), him being across the country, him saying that he doesnt know if hes missing out on something.

i have to just accept these things about him because i love him, but they hurt.

today

was better than yesterday.

yesterday, i had to contact the sexual abuse unit in the lapd and then contact the pet team to evaluate a student.  the police came and stayed for four hours.  the parents were so supportive, and understandably, crying.  several times, i saw them huddling as a family.

eriven and i would look at each other, and once, she said, that family is so calm.  if it were me, id have killed the guy by now.

the perpetrator is my student's step grandfather, the man who raised her mother.

the sick shit people do.

it disgusts me violently.

*****
today, however, another student reported that her grandmother's tenant touched her.

the grandmother said, im not defending him or protecting him, but sometimes kids lie.

in any situation like this, i will believe a child.  only once did i not believe a student, and it turned out i was right.

what the major fuck is wrong with this world?

*****
the security guy here came in and asked how i was doing because of yesterday.

you know, that was so nice.

i love how people are so kind and compassionate.

*****
im having that feeling again where i want to run.

run.

come on, powerball.

just once.

over and out

i fucking hate this cowardice.

its the one thing that i cannot accept in a person, perhaps because i see it in myself, and i hate it.

but to see it in another in whom ive placed (too) much trust and from whom id never expect this behavior, it is fucking disheartening.

but i know there is a message in this mess.

i am convicted that there is a fundamental reason why this is so.

and while i do not want to know the reason (excuse), it will be revealed.

*****
so wake me up when its all over
when im wiser and im older
all this time i was finding myself, and i
didnt know i was lost

-avicii, wake me up

the past year or so has been a blur of wtf moments

in this stage of the grief process, i am now once again in the anger stage.

anger at my own stupidity and lack good judgement.

i think i can handle pain more than i can stupidity.

although there is no regret, i do feel a huge disappointment in a person i thought was of character.

again.  this is not anyones fault but my own for trusting and believing in something i knew deep down was so not of integrity.

i feel awake today, at this moment.

awakened to the realization that i no longer want to be disrespected.

that i want to be treated with respect, and i do not feel it from this person.

so.

wtf.

i have some deleting to do.

motherfucker.

*****
in other news.

the texan is worried about me.

he thinks i need him to rescue me or to make feel better.

silly man.

doesnt he know that the one who gives the pain is the only one that can take it away?

im getting tired of this knight in shining armor bullshit.

i want the dragon.

motherfucker.

this on a tuesday

by 7:00 am, ive:

emailed the texan thanking him for being patient and for not calling me for awhile and acknowledging how hard that is seeing as he will be going to la jolla for the nite and not asking me to join him.

emailed the east coast man my (music) obsession:  imagine dragons' demons.

did a 15 minute meditation:  om shanti om.

prayed in gratitude and with strength for the blessings in my life (like i dont have psoriasis).

made my bed.

got dressed (brown cords and denim shirt with a white tank).

looked pretty (its a feat).

drove to starbucks for my usual (venti iced coffee, one pump sweetener, extra soy, and a tomato cheese croissant).

heard from one of my (now) favorite barista that shes putting in her notice because of the bipo manager (i know her...i agree).

*****
by 11:00 am, ive:

had a parent conference with one of my students (the kid is 312 lbs and is missing a finger).

picked up a student from the curbside (he wanted to stay at home so he can play the fucking GHOST game).

visited two classrooms (i was impressed with one, not so much with the other).

*****
by 4:00 pm, ive:

been called a fucking counselor by one of my (favorite) students.  he made a public apology at the staff meeting (his idea).

presented to the staff at a faculty meeting.

helped prepare for a presentation tomorrow and thursday.

*****
when i got to my office, i got a message from the texan to check my email.

holy shit.

i didnt even read it all, but when i scanned, he mentioned how he wanted to be with me.

what the fuck doesnt he understand?

its never going to happen.

ever.

i know that nothing in my physical or spiritual being wants to be with him.

he is not the one.

he is not my prayer.

*****
my prayer doesnt ever want to talk to me.

he is angry or hurt or whatever with me.

he has dismissed me.

and i have to respect and honor that.

*****
life goes on.

it has to, no matter what.

and i, for one, am so fucking grateful for that very truth.

imagine dragons and other things

currently, i am loving demons, especially the last few seconds when they feature a fan who lost his life to cancer.

it makes me cry, this part, so i watch it again and again.

i love their music.

dapel sent me a video to watch.  radioactive.  i love that video, though theres nothing about it that makes sense to me.

whatever.

the guy is cute.

im on their pandora station now, and i kind of love it.  a lot.

*****
its a mess right now in my life.

just stuff settling down.

things falling around the shape of a love i once had.

this weekend, i wrote four pages in my hand written journal.

i respect and honor this man, and because of it, i will leave him alone.

and im sure hes moved on by now.

hes a good man.  he deserves someone who will love him.  and who he will love.

and it pains me to type that, and when i reread it in a few months, i hope the sting will be gone.

i wish i had the chance to take him to my sacred spaces in la when he was here, but i always felt that we would have time on another visit.

i showed him sf, carmel, the picturesque 1 freeway, pismo beach, and la jolla.

those days were magic, and i will hold on to them with fondness.

and driving down the coast and stopping along the way to marvel at God's majesty has been seared into my memory.

but i cannot live on those.

i need to move on.

i need to be grateful for the time we had, to be grateful that we had the time.

and i hope that he felt special as well.

every moment was for us.  designed especially for us.  given for us.

*****
i know that eventually feelings and memories fade, only to be replaced by the new and current ones.

this is why i write:  to preserve moments, even if the energy isnt as sharp as it was when they happened.  i like knowing that one day, i can sit under blankets and read about him.

motherfuck.

why the fuck do i have to be so fucking sentimental?

why the fuck does it hit me this way?

im hurting.

a piece of me is dying inside.

and i wake up reaching for him still.

dammit.

i promised myself id be gentle with my heart about this.  in the past, i moved on abruptly.  letting go and getting over it.  its perhaps because there was always someone else waiting in the wings.

but he?

i cant.  i envisioned a life with him.  will i feel stupid when i read back on this?

i dont care.

i dont regret having done this.  he was my reward for patiently waiting and not giving my heart away.  he was the one worth waiting for.

i loved him.

i still do.

its been so hard for me.

and i envy how quickly he moves forward.  how stoic and how unaffected he is.

but i remember my promise to myself to be kind and compassionate.

if i have to cry, i cry.

if i have to get angry, i allow it.

if i need time alone, i embrace it.

i wish i were built like him.

but sadly, im not.

time will heal me.

that and some music.

withdrawals (as man in the box plays on pandora)

this weekend, except for a few hours with my sister and niece in pasadena, i spent in bed.  hibernating. recovering.  withdrawing.

and i wanted to feel guilty, but i didnt.  i had no plans except to do laundry (but does that count?), but when my sister called and said she and my (favorite) niece were in pas, i decided to join her for lunch and coffee. her treat.  how can i refuse?

while we were sitting outdoors at cb&tl, she asked, do you still talk to r?

nope.

why not?

it just didnt work out.

but you sent him something by text.  he was part of a group send.

it was probably sometime last week, but it seems so long ago.

*****
sunday morning, i came hard and then, for some unknown reason (maybe its because i called out his name), i began to cry.

it was so fucking annoying, but i miss him so much.

and the reason why is because a year ago yesterday, i realized i was in love with him.

it was on a saturday.  he called me while he was working, and i was driving to my aunt's graduation party. he got off at 1:00 pm (my time), but when we said good bye, it had been about 45 mins later.  he had dinner plans with his wife and friends to try a new tapa place.

oh, the things my fucking mind remembers.

*****
but everything, it appears, reminds me of him.

i was at tj maxx with my sister, and i passed by the row of socks where i spoke with him one sunday afternoon.

and i showed my sister and niece where tbbt boys worked (cal tech), and it brought me back to the summer when we did a drive through.

*****
i cant believe i wont be talking to him again.

i feel like vomiting.

dammit.

this is the worst ending, possibly because i know that it has to.  there are certain things i need, things that are nonnegotiable, things that are so minor but mean a lot to me.

i thought i had been communicating that, even if in the beginning, i didnt have to.

he was my best friend.  still is, in some ways, but fuck.

fuck me for falling in love with a married man.

fuck me for falling in love with a married man who lives in another coast.

fuck me for falling in love with a married man who lives in another coast and has a young child.

fuck me.

fuck.

*****
and to top it off, the texan just emailed me saying hes hurt because i dont pick up my phone.

well.

get over it.

get over it because until i get over the man from the east coast, ill be healing.

thats all i can say now at work because i can feel the fucking tears building.