I haven’t blogged for a few months now. I have been overwhelmed with a few things. I know it isn’t that surprising that I would feel this way. For those who know me for quite some time, it’s almost expected. I am a thrill-seeker. I want to find the reward behind everything I put myself into. At times I want to pull back because it gets so difficult to juggle, but I am here and baby I am still kicking.

I think the literary journalism course is one of my favorite classes. I know I haven’t gotten the best marks on my papers, but I have the most fun writing it. My thoughts seem to be leaping off from one tangent to another, as though it was latching onto each other and forming this amazing idea. But it seems to be clouded with vagueness; almost like having all the words jumbled up.

“The wrong tense, this doesn’t make sense” The painful red ink thrown across the paper makes me nervous beyond belief. I thought I was a wonderful writer. I realize I have this handicap. I can’t form clear thoughts. Maybe there is a smudge on the little piece in my brain that helps with language and it’s just needs to be cleaned up. I used to be better at these things. Is it because I have so much going through my mind, I can’t focus?!

I wrote a few blogs and decided to not submit it.

“what if this is riddled with bad grammar?”

I have this fear of writing because it doesn’t come across clear. I have the mindset of a journalist… but what happen to the part of the writer? Was there something that got misguided between the two? You can’t be a good journalist without being a magnificent writer! Wait, wait… is this major I should go into?

I really like this major, I just wish I could take a composition class that would help clear up some of my common mistakes. I admit I am no J.K. Rowling or John Steinbeck, but hell I love the idea of writing. It’s just that… well you know… it comes out a bit bleh.

I am stuck on my final piece. I wanted to write about the car scene. I thought it would be easy just because I am apart of it, but that’s not the case.

I wanted my piece to start of with the event of Tim getting a ticket and flashback and show the present.
I recall it was several months ago.

“Honey, do you want to go with me to my parents’ house. I promise it won’t take that long.” Without any hesitation, I was in the passenger seat of my boyfriend’s car. He quickly turns the key in the ignition and the roar from his exhaust fills the two-car garage. With the slow descend out of the garage and onto the streets, I didn’t think too much of the trip down four blocks to retrieve something that was forgotten.”

There is so much going through my mind. I am not sure where to start to write. I was thinking of when I started keeping a journal or diary. I got my first diary from my then-friend-and-later-turned-enemy. Okay maybe our relationship is a bit strained and maybe it’s not even enemies. It was just a lot of misunderstandings and childish stories. I find it ironic that the person that I end up hating gave me a gift that turned into to my life’s passion. I vented to that orange diary, decorated with glitter glue and stars. I thought the world was so complicated back then. It was all about my yearnings to be accepted by others.

From time to time I would read through the pages and think I was so dumb and naïve. Why was I suffering from this “depression” at a young age? Why was my image so important back then? Fani made me a gift, a just because I love you best friend kind of gift, that I placed in my room in Irvine. The perfect black frame with encouraging words and pictures from my past has already started to inspire me even though school hasn’t started. Whenever I look at the picture of myself when I was in 6th grade to my senior year picture, I think of the all the changes I have underwent. There had to been a great deal of sweat and tears to get me here (the present.) It had to be those sleepless nights, wondering if I was even good enough to join the rest in the big scary world.

Even right now when I am typing my blog. I have an image of myself in the past, present, and future. I look in the vanity mirror placed on my desk then quickly glance to the old pictures of those middle and high school days. My image has changed, my attitude has shifted, and even my roles in my life seem to be more defined as the days go by. Like many of my friends we’re all going through this change in our lives where we abandon our childhood and leap into adulthood. Some transitions are much easier than others because the change takes place around many peers who face similar events in their lives. As for those who are not fortunate to have an environment where everyone is facing the same issue of growing up. It’s harder because it seems that you have fast-forwarded some crazy scene in a movie and you can’t seem to rewind it. When you are the sole individual facing this change, it seems out of place and even in the wrong order. You think to yourself, “Is this the real change or I am just going to face it later?”

While you think of getting old and becoming responsible adults. I thought, man our lives are too short. I drove by the stretch of freeway that Ralphy died on at least 8 times a week. I lowered the volume down of the radio and had a chat with him. I don’t know if he hears me. I am not Christian or anything. Regardless, I just talked to him. I told him that I realize after his death that I needed to do more with my own life. Push myself to the limit and be what I can because I am still breathing and he’s not. Some people may roll their eyes to the mention of his name, but honestly it could be anyone’s name.

Fani brought up an interesting topic, “what if I die tomorrow” sorry it is a rephrasing I think. I asked Tim this question because he is the one I hold dear to my heart. It was a bit out of place and out of the random. I guess its better to catch him on a more serious day. He was unable to give me an answer. He said he would never want to think of me dying before him. I am telling you, it’s not because he is callous but the thought scares him too much.
I must sound so repetitive, but I can never say this enough. I want to say at least in this moment, I want to spend the rest of my life with Tim. I want to grow old with him and have a family of my own some day. I want to cheer on my little girl or boy at their first real athletic sport… maybe tennis? The idea warms up my heart and it seems to glow. When I was younger, someone had promise me that I would be their wife and best friend. There was many “someone(s)” who had said this to me. I never thought too much into it. I thought, short-term and then long-term. It was a chilling fact to think about in high school with a guy you barely started dating. The friendship is great but somehow it wasn’t all there.

Maybe I am quick to jump and a bit too positive to see anything else. I know I am a young woman, capable of holding her own. Some people say you never know when you find the one. Everyone wants to believe they fall in love at a young age. Maybe it’s true in some respects but some argue that it is found later in life.
From my viewpoint it is neither. There is neither age nor time limit on falling love. I know many personal stories of people finding love in their 30s and getting married in a few months of knowing each other. They are still married till this day. They too have faced problems of younger couples at an older age. There is no designated time that you should have before getting married. Maybe I will date Tim for another 10 years before getting married. Maybe I will get married after I become rich somehow.

Every day is a new battle and obstacle we have to face. It might drive us in completely different directions but I am up for it. I am breathing and thinking, I am more than ready for this challenge. Another day wasted on being another sad little lady is a day I could have given to someone who just recently died. I try my best to think positive and see this outlook. It might push me forward.