It would be nice to say that 2023 began in a healthy, relaxing and peaceful way. Unfortunately that hasn’t been the case. My husband and I were affected by the nationwide airline flight cancellations, so we were “stuck” in the bay area for a week longer than we had planned. When we finally arrived home, it was New Year’s Eve and I ended up getting sick, so we had to cancel plans with our friends. Then just this past week, I experienced a hives episode where the welts were so itchy and enflamed that I had to take over the counter allergy medicine. Even with the medication, they didn’t subside till two days later. This is not how I imagined the new year would begin.
However….
There is good news to embrace! One of my main goals for this year was to start a completely different professional journey. While I enjoyed the last 15 years of my life teaching middle and high school students, I wanted to focus more on writing and teaching ESL for adults. I started applying for jobs earlier this month, and yesterday I accepted an ESL instructor role to teach online. While I am nervous about this new job, I know that this is a new chapter that will help me with my professional goals of teaching community college or post secondary education. As far as writing, I am back to posting blogs and I submitted an application to Kundiman. This will be my 3rd time applying, and I am expecting that it will be a no, but that doesn’t mean that I will give up. It’s no news that I’ve been having a hard time finding the joy in life. I spoke and wrote about this feeling of “emptiness” during the pandemic, which was the main reason why I started to blog regularly. The things I once found comfort in such as reading, writing, hiking, traveling, spending time with friends, didn’t have the same effect on me. But I haven’t given. It’s important to search for the joy- not search for the forlorn or sorrow.
Hello, is anyone out there? I didn’t realize that the last time I wrote on my blog was almost 1.5 years ago. I apologize for my long absence; I did not intend to take this long of a break. I blame COVID (twice), a new job and a move. SO much has happened in the time that I have been away. And while I’d like to fill you all in, I think it’s best to just give you the 10 most recent highlights:
We moved to Las Vegas
I started a new job!
I started a new hobby- macrame
I read for Litquake- SF’s biggest literary festival
My niece turned 4
I wrote 25,000 words for nanowrimo
I was gifted a Kindle (but I still buy actual books)
I went on a cruise to the bahamas
I attended my 25 year high school reunion
I have perfected my recipe for vegan Shanghai lumpia!
Dear readers, please tell me what you have been up to? What important events or goals are you proud of?
My COVID experience started on September 2, 2021, when I made a comment to my co-worker that I might not come to work tomorrow because my throat felt a little sore. It was very minor- just a scratchy sensation. I had been testing students one-on-one the last two weeks, so I assumed it was the overuse of my voice, or my body adjusting to going back to work, wearing my mask for long hours. The next day, more symptoms developed: congestion, body aches, tiredness, which felt normal because I associated them with my recurring sinus infection. On Sunday I spoke to the Kaiser advice nurse, on Monday I spoke to the doctor who expedited a COVID test. On Tuesday morning I took my test, and that night I received my results. It was positive. By then, when I lost my sense of smell and taste, I already had an inclining that I had COVID. The test confirmed it. Turns out, I probably had COVID sometime at the end of August, then symptoms developed 3-5 days later, and I didn’t test ‘till three days after that. It’s easy to see how the virus spreads so quickly.
You hear how unpredictable COVID is, how it affects people differently, how there is no definite way to predict how your body will respond. I know many people who survived COVID, but I also knew a few people who didn’t. I wondered where I would fall on the spectrum. I wondered if my asthma, my weight, my thyroid would affect my experience. When I developed a form of pink eye on the 5th day, I cautioned if my symptoms would unexpectedly turn severe like other cases I read about.
I don’t know how I contracted COVID. There’s a myriad of sources- my husband went to the dentist, I work at two schools where the students are not old enough to get the vaccine, my brother-in law visited one day. I wear a mask, I’m vaccinated and I’m as safe as I can be in public settings. But with COVID, especially with Delta we know it spreads faster and it’s more infectious than the outset of the pandemic. I believe my breakthrough COVID case was bound to happen; it was just a matter of time. It is also worrisome that at my schools, it seems as if there is a positive COVID case everyday; students are in the hallways sitting next to a garbage can, vomiting. The outdoor isolation tent seems to have students daily, waiting for a parent to pick him/her up. When I see students playing, hear them laughing, or witness them smiling with their eyes, it’s easy to forget that we’re in a pandemic, and it seems like kids at school is the right decision, but when COVID cases rise and as I see adults and students get sick and the after effects of COVID unknown, I’ve decided that school is probably not the safest place for people to be, especially those unvaccinated. I’m lucky that when I return to my job, my interaction with people will be limited, and I’m taking it one day at a time.
The support from friends and family, the daily calls, check ins or even the delivery of organic Gatorade from a dear friend were sources of comfort for me. I was also surprised with the care I received from Kaiser. They sent me a care package complete with high grade cleaning solution, sanitizer, alcohol wipes, body wash, shampoo, condition, face masks, gloves, eating utensils, plates, cups, even a thermometer. Although I had most of the items at home, it was reassuring to know that in all aspects of my life, including my health care, everything was easy so I could just focus on my health and healing. Even when I was contacted by Contra Costa County they offered to do the trace contact on my behalf and asked if I needed help financially and with food preparation. I wondered about all the people who were affected at the onset of the pandemic, when a lot was unknown, when the system and after care weren’t as robust, how lonely and frustrating and expensive it might have been, especially the immediate hours after testing positive. It’s an odd time. Many thoughts run through your head and the imagination runs wild. The care I received from my circle, including the County and Kaiser made things feel less helpless, less overwhelmed, less like I was a statistic. This was the care I received for my case; I only hope others receive the same care, especially those with more severe cases.
There’s a mental condition called Survivor’s Guilt , where a person who survived a life threatening situation, while others did not feels guilty for surviving. Many people have experienced this in traumas we’re familiar with such as 9/11, Pulse nightclub, a car accident, Cancer, and most recently COVID. While my COVID case was relatively mild compared to others, I do wonder about those who weren’t so lucky, particularly family members who died because of COVID. Some didn’t live long enough for the vaccine to become available to them, so by chance and by time, I was fortunate to have a chance simply because of a timeline. It could also be because I haven’t eaten meat in over a year, or that I received both vaccines of the Moderna, it could also be because my family prayed for me and my mother in law added our names to a congregation of nuns who prayed for us. Who knows why I was lucky and relatively unscathed. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge those who had a different experience, those who needed a pacemaker after COVID, those whose sense of taste never returned after COVID, those who will have life long lung issues after COVID.
And it wasn’t just me who tested positive. My husband, my brother-in-law and two other people , including a friend’s children, tested positive. It was clear that our 6 degrees of separation had been compromised. Could I have been the COVID culprit? Probably. Most likely. The conditions at my school make it the obvious answer. And I carry a lot of guilt for that possibility. It is wild when I think about it. How a simple action turned into something possibly life threatening. We found humor in the situation though. We jokingly thought about having a quarantine routine or eating an entire onion or durian. And I affectionately referred to us as the COVID Crew. My mother in law, in jest, said something to the effect of: “I can’t believe all my children have COVID all at the same time”. But it all turned serious when my niece all of a sudden had a fever of 103 and then my sister developed flu-like symptoms, the possibility of spreading the virus to them became even more severe. My niece is only three. She’s lived most in her life in the pandemic, and it didn’t seem fair that she was a bystander of poor actions. They ended up testing negative; which was a huge relief, but the guilt ensued. I was sorry and sad. I’m grateful that my family has been kind, understanding and has found humor in a grave situation. I love them very much.
As of today, day 10 of my quarantine, the only symptoms I feel are fatigue, loss of smell and taste and a slight congestion. My days are strange. I haven’t been outside since September 2, and I have urges to take long naps throughout the day. I miss my hikes; I miss my family; I miss my tastebuds. I don’t find pleasure in the things I’ve taken for granted like eating, drinking, or smelling my favorite perfume, a home cooked meal or the wonderful outdoors. I think about the possible long term effects I might endure like COVID brain fog or a persistent disorienting metallic taste in my mouth. I think about the last flavorful thing I ate: a nori roll wrap with sunflower seed pate, alfalfa sprouts, cucumber, tomatoes, onions, avocado. I think about the email I got from work urging me to take advantage of mental health services they are offering for free.
I go back to work tomorrow (Tuesday, September 14), and it will be 13 days since I set foot on campus. I’m looking forward to putting this behind me, but I do worry that COVID might make its way back, like others I read about who had COVID twice, like the CDC study in Kentucky. The most I can do is take the same precautions I took before: sanitize, wear a mask, physical distance, wash my hands, get tested regularly. But even with all of that in place, the chances are still there, albeit significantly less, but still there. What I’ve learned from this situation is that being infected with COVID means different things for everyone. Cases vary in degrees and people respond differently- socially, emotionally, mentally, physically. I think about the positives: the support of family and friends. The surprising outreach from work, Contra Costa County and Kaiser Permanente. It seems once you test positive,all hands and feet are on deck and on the ground and an army of people are there to help with the process. I’m thankful for the vaccine; I am assuming it prevented my symptoms from escalating and me being admitted to the hospital. I’m grateful to all of you who have also chosen to get vaccinated as well; it may have saved your life and others. If you are still considering not getting the vaccine, which is now approved by the FDA, I hope my experience encourages you to reconsider or at the very least to have a conversation with those around you, especially those who you love. Being positive affects your entire community. Even if you live alone, if you step foot outside your door, you’re impacting life all around you and there’s a strong possibility that your actions might impact the health of another person. I honor each person’s individual choice and what is best for you and your family. But after experiencing this and contending with all the possible outcomes that could have been, it would be irresponsible of me to not share this story, my story. A possible life may depend on it. And that’s a chance I’m not willing to take. Stay safe and thank you for reading.
Care package from KaiserPink eye photoOne of the fun the things I looked forward to was the phonecalls with my niece and using the filtersThe last flavorful meal I had on Friday September 3
I grew up on Black television. I watched shows like the Cosby Show, A Different World, In Living Color, Martin, The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, Living Single, and years later, when I reflect on that time in my life, two shows that inspired me were A Different World and Living Single. I imagined that when it was time for me to attend college, I would live in the dorms like Dennis while attending classes taught by obscure teachers and hanging out with friends at the Pit. Then when I graduated, I would live in New York, similar to Khadeja James who was the owner of Flavor magazine I imagined. I too, could be a writer and live with my friends in an opulent townhouse in Manhattan.
The reality is my life was nothing close to the TV shows. I attended college in San Diego and lived off campus. I moved about 5 times and by the time I graduated, I lived four blocks from the beach and could walk to the strip of bars and restaurants with my two blond roommates from the OC. My professors didn’t seem worldly at the time, as English professors, their teaching styles were mostly lecture while students mostly listened, with the one exception. I had a teacher who had big curly brown hair and we read books by different authors on color, including Michele Serros who has been a formidable literary role model to me. I didn’t have much of a campus life- most of the people I spent time with were from Los Angeles or my home town ( they visited me often). And the entire time I was in San Diego, I was in a long distance relationship with a boy from my home town. I always wondered what would have happened if made other decisions like joining a sorority, breaking up with my boyfriend, spending more time exploring the campus rather than rushing home and talking to my boyfriend on the phone. Had I done this, would I have lived a life closer to what I had envisioned when I watched A Different Word. Maybe. But the greatest lesson I thought that would have the biggest impact on me would be moving to a city and not knowing anyone. Turns out, the greatest lesson was moving to a new city and loving someone 600 miles away.
My alarm went off at 7:30 AM, and with only 4 hours of sleep, it’s safe to say that I swiped to the snooze feature more than once. By the time I realized it was “really” time to get up, I only had 15 minutes before my 9:00 AM meeting. It was a quick shower. Thank goodness I practice intermittent fasting, so I’m already accustomed to not eating breakfast.
I share this with you because everything I had intended on doing to start the day never happened. I planned to meditate, clean an area of the house, pray and journal and exercise. As lofty and ambitious as all this sounds, there was a time in my life when I actually accomplished all of this, even when I had to commute to work.
I thought I’d be more successful before the start of the work day; I imagined a relaxed, productive version of myself walking into my home office with a cup of warm tea, opening the blinds to let in the sun, burning sage and setting in a positive intension and clicking into the zoom link for my first meeting. Today’s realistic version included a groggy me stumbling to the shower, then pouring myself a glass of cold water, opening the blinds to see the rain and grey sky and clicking on my zoom link a minute past the meeting. I greeted everyone with wet hair and bags under my eyes! This was not the appearance or energy I wanted to bring for the start of the school year.
Yet, when I reflect on what happened after work, I’m surprised how pleasant the day ended. I was able to jog two miles, beating my previous time, my good friend Krystal stopped by to visit me outside, I drank a gallon of water throughout the day, made time to read, post a blog, and now I’m getting ready to “draw/paint” on my ipad.
Although I hadn’t checked off all the tasks I meant to accomplish this morning, I was able to achieve other under takings that afforded a calm and peaceful night. So, maybe I’m not a morning person, maybe it was the rain, maybe it was manic Monday, what ever the reason, I’m content with letting go of expectations and instead embracing the surprising wins and sense of accomplishments anytime of the day.
A few days ago I posted about my deep longing for long, healthy, decorative nails. I fantasize about painting long esquisite beautiful nails that reflect my personality. On Instagram, I scroll through pictures and admire the meticulous designs, colors, lines, shapes and details that go into nail art. Because I tend to have short nails, there’s less surface space for creativity. I had hoped that this Christmas, I could grow my nails long enough that I could get a manicure and perhaps some nail art. However, I live in California, and all the salons in my county are temporarily closed.
One thing I discovered while I scoured the internet is an alternative- Dashing Diva. This company makes artificial nails that you can easily apply to your reals nails. Now I know this is not a new concept, but I held a disdain for fake nails for many years due to their unnatural look. However, once I received my package and applied my nails today, I must admit that the easy application and believability made me reconsider.
Also fun…there’s so many styles to choose from! I ordered five packets, and it was so hard to choose. I decided on red because Christmas Eve is tomorrow and I wanted to be festive.
Although I didn’t get to grow my nails long this year or visit a nail salon to get nail art. But I was able to stay home, save some money and in less than 15 minutes, have a new set of gorgeous nails.
Yesterday, I posted about a vlog I discovered about a couple of foreigners who were celebrating Christmas in the Philippines. That post got me thinking about Christmases I spent in the Philippines. Thankfully, after my family moved from the Philippines to the United States, we visited as often as we could. My most recent visit was in 2016- for my wedding, but before that was 2014- for Christmas.
It was a wild memory! My parents had just built their house and the furniture that was supposed to be delivered hadn’t arrived yet. According to the shipping company, my parents’ delivery was still at the port. Because there was a backup, there would be no way for them to unload the container until next year. In the meantime, my husband and I were sleeping on an air mattress and the entire family ate in the “dirty kitchen” a term in the Philippines that described the outdoor or separate kitchen where most of the cooking occured because of the smoke and smell. As we approached Christmas Eve my mom was devastated because we were supposed to have a family party, but we had no furniture for the guests.
Then a Christmas miracle happened. As we were eating at a restaurant in Tagaytay, we received a call that the shipping container was on the way. It would arrive in a few hours– about 9:00 PM, on Christmas Eve.
We worked collectively to unload, unpack and move in the furniture for a 5 bedroom house. We unpacked and installed TVs, patio furniture, beds and dressers. I don’t know how we all pulled it off; it was definitely a group effort, and it will be a memory we’ll all share together.
Check out the video here.. the video moving part starts on 5:11
Holiday retail in over $700 Billion industry. The average American “will spend nearly $1,050 on holiday gifts, goodies, and travel this year, the National Retail Federation estimates. This is up slightly from last year’s estimate of about $1,000.” Consumerism, especially during the holiday season, continues to rise, yet if I look back on the gifts I received in the past years, not to sound ungrateful, but most of them were given based on obligation, not meaning. A few years ago, my husband and I made the commitment to gift each other with experiences rather than products. So my advice, when it comes to gift giving, is to gift that special person with an experience they will remember forever. Here are some ideas:
a picnic- if you need help arranging this contact Soiree by the Bay. They set up the entire picnic for you, just bring yourself and some food.
a class- why not encourage the creative in your life with a class to channel their creative impulse. My favorite places are sfworkshop and verolocal. They offer classes ranging from macrame, painting, cooking, soap, candle, wood working, etc. They even offer digital classes now!
cooking – while this falls under the category above, I decided to make this its own category because there’s so many options. Learn how to make sushi, homemade pasta, ramen, thai food, even from the comfort of your home, as many places are offering virtual classes. There are even cooking classes that will deliver the ingredients for you!
concert – more and more artists are offering virtual concerts. Justin Beiber is offering a NewYears Eve concert for $25 or free for Tmobile users. Celebs such as Monica and Brandy did a Versus stream on instagram and DJs are streaming on Twitch. Make it even more special by printing out homemade tickets, making concert food like popcorn and nachos and maybe even buy a shirt of the singer. It’ll feel like a real concert! Turn the lights off and flick those lighters!!!
virtual trip – pack a bag and go on a virtual trip. Make an itinerary of all the places. monuments you want to see and order cuisine from the place you’re visiting virtually. It you’re visiting Italy, order Italian food and wine. If you’re in Japan, order sushi, if you’re going to NYC, order pizza. Get all these things delivered at home!
Anyone of these experiences will surely be memorable. So before you buy that pair of socks, scarf or piece of jewelry, consider how excited your recipient will be when she/ he opens up your gift and considers the thoughtfulness and time you put to execute it. Remember success is in the details, and with a though-out experience, the details will surely resonate.
During this time of the year, the scents such as cinnamon, pine and pumpkin are pretty standard. Every where you go, a department store, a restaurant or even your house will provide familiar aromas reminiscent of the fall or seasonal vibes. Here is a list of my favorite scents for the holiday season:
Not only does candle offer a 80+ hour burn, but the story behind the scent is a tribute to Billy Holiday singing in clubs in Harlem in the 1930s. According to the website: “The Holiday candle is inspired by Billie’s favorite perfume, Emeraude, an aromatic green blend of fresh Winter spruce, pine needles, mint-infused eucalyptus, fir balsam and spicy cedarwood developing into a feminine heart of ethereal blue hyacinth. Strong and full-bodied, yet fragile and dreamy… just like Lady Day. Sets a beautiful mood for holiday time and all year round.” Yes, the candle is on the higher end of the price point, but you’ll feel good about supporting a Black Owned Business while lighting a candle that is not your ordinary and average holiday scent.
2) Almond Eggnog from Trader Joes
I’m lactose intolerant so nothing makes me feel more special than seeing beverage companies catering to me! I love Trader Joe’s for this very reason. They offer a plethora of non-diary drinks, but my favorite seasonal drink is the Almond Eggnog. According to a reviewer, the beverage is “tasty with a warm, comforting sweetness that does gently beckon to the winter months. It also has a very lightly creamy mouth feel.” I enjoy the lightness of this drink as it’s not overtly sweet and velvety like traditional milk. The finish is smooth and if you want it sweeter, you can add vanilla, sugar or cream. The drink is very versatile and definitely beckons season vibes. The smell has the traditional notes of cinnamon, nutmeg with a hint of pumpkin…all the comforting scents of the season.
3) Friendship Cake
Nothing boasts the Christmas season stronger than a sweet indulgence baking in the oven. The entire kitchen and house is suddenly engulfed by the aromas of caramelized apples, pecans and bread. Growing up in traditional household, our house usually smelled like a Filipino bakery during the holidays. I grew up eating puto, babinka, leche flan and turon. However one special cake that my mom made during the holiday season in Friendship cake. Anytime that I smell this sweet aroma, I’m harkened back to my nostalgic memories of my childhood. I will make a longer post about Friendship cake because it actually takes 50 days to make the cake! But you can enjoy some pictures for now…
Activating all my senses during the Christmas season definitely sparks the joy and the Christmas spirit. I love smelling pine, holding a warm plate of dessert and sipping a holiday beverage. But nothing warms my body and spirt more than taking in the comforting scents of the season. How about you? What do you like to smell this time of the year?
December birthdays are sometimes over shadowed, especially if the birthday is close to Christmas. My mom’s birthday in December 7th, weeks before Christmas, but over the years we have kept the tradition of going to the snow for her birthday to make her day feel more special. This year because of COVID, we weren’t able to take our annual trip, but we still made the most of the occasion. Hopefully these are tips that can help you with your December birthday.
Make food or order food that is special for the celebrant
My mom loves fried chicken, so we ordered a bucket of chicken wings, legs and thighs from a local restaurant. You don’t need to have an expensive dinner to show your appreciation for someone. Knowing what they like, whether it’s a particular dessert, drink or appetizer from a restaurant, and having it as a part of the meal can make any person feel special, even it’s something as simple as a chicken wing. My mom loved it!
2. Meaningful gift
Also, a meaningful gift, often not very expensive, can go a long way. For my mom, my sister had the idea of creating a cook book filled with my mom’s recipes. We printed out a cover of what the cookbook would look like and arranged for us to cook with my mom every month to add a recipe to the cookbook. If your celebrant loves to garden maybe give them planting seeds or a framed picture of them in their garden. Or if the birthday person loves music, why not give them virtual music lessons or a dance lessons. If the person loves to read, make them a bookmark or make them a no-sew fleece blanket to wrap themselves up with when they’re reading.
3. Tradition
It may be difficult to get together for the holidays during a pandemic, so a zoom party might be your only option. Keeping traditions going, even virtually, maintains some normalcy and semblance during this time. I’d encourage you to try to incorporate your traditions in the virtual celebration. If you normally eat a cake, try having a cake delivered. If you open gifts, try mailing them or dropping them off. We normally have a cake, so I went out to a special bakery to get a very decadent cake for our dessert. Also, this could also be a time to create new traditions. One that I would like to try is for everyone can share one great memory with the birthday person this year.
In one of my previous posts, I wrote about my tradition of creating a piece of art for any place I move into. I usually allow the dust to settle and let the home speak to me before I start creating or begin the creative process. It’s important to me to create something for my new abode because I see it as a peace offering– a way to suggest that I appreciate this new space and will take care of it. I also see this opportunity as a way to set the tone — to allow art to speak volumes of the type of energy and spirit I want to cultivate and preserve.
We moved into our duplex in early September, about two and half months ago, and I have yet to create a piece of art for our new place. However, over the weekend, my husband and I worked together to install a barn yard door for his DJ room. this experience brought us many first; it was the first time he and I actually used a drill gun together; it was the first piece of “fixture” we built and it was the first time we installed something that required measuring, screwing and drilling. Although what we created wasn’t a piece of art, the door reflected what I had hoped to accomplish with any art project-to create memories, to contribute to the home, to bring us together.
I’m reminded that every once in a while, it’s okay to break traditions as long as other traditions are made. In this case, I’m don’t mind that I’m not creating art independently. I have replaced it something better: My husband and I created a very practical and beautiful piece of craftsmanship for our new place. I couldn’t me more proud of us.
When I reflect on this year, I can’t help but ponder how much COVID has greatly impacted my life. Like many households, my husband and I are down to one income- mine. He was furloughed and eventually let go in June- three months into the entire country going into shelter in place. We could have stayed in our condo in South San Francisco, but we knew that the smart decision that would finance our goals of owning a house would be to move to a more affordable place. Hence why we moved to Concord California- a suburban city in the east bay.
This decision didn’t come easy.
One favorable aspect about living in South San Francisco was that I was 3/4 of a mile from my job. It took me less than five minutes from me leaving my front door to arriving at my office door. I never imagined living and working in the same city, but I had finally achieved a goal I never thought could be a reality. I left home with ease, not having to worry about being late or eating my breakfast on the go. Sometimes, I even had time to exercise and meditate before work. I could also come home and unwind and not arrive in a grumpy mood because of traffic or be pooped out because of a long commute.
I also worked on being part of the community. I joined a facebook group of the residents of South San Francisco, I registered my husband and I for a Catholic church, I made an attempt to introduce and exchange pleasantries with my neighbors. We even volunteered for a Filipino Organization- PBRC. Over the summer, I coordinated a visit to the historical society just to learn more about the city’s past and unique history. I definitely made more of an effort to be a more involved resident.
Lastly, I miss being around my people. South San Francisco is a city with a high population of Filipinos and with Daly City as a neighboring city, Filipinos are abundant. Everywhere I went, I heard words and phrases of Tagalog– a lost language I don’t often hear daily since living with my parents. Filipino restaurants are plentiful. I had a go to restaurant for pancit, lumpia, cassava cake, and even had a favorite plant based Filipino restaurant. I’d go to Serramonte Mall and I’d see so many people who reminded me of my own family- buying chicharone and lottery tickets at the stand up store or manongs huddled and congregated at the center of the mall wearing Navy and Air force hats that often reminded me of my grandfather.
“Living in South San Francisco was a very special time in my life. I saw so much representation in my culture, identify and goals in life”
So when we made the decision to leave, it painstakingly difficult that I didn’t allow myself to really sit with the pain and decision because I know I would have probably changed my mind.
Yes, I miss South City, but when I consider my life in Concord now, I have no regrets. I know I’ll find joy and purpose in this new place. Like with all new chapters in life, it’s only the beginning.
Well, there comes a time in everyone’s life where in one day you experience the thrill of checking off a few items on your bucket list, all in one day. Today, that happened to me, and one wasn’t even on my bucket list.
Wedding Crasher
I started off the morning watching a DJ on Twitch and within a few minutes, he announced that we would be virtually crashing a wedding! He was invited by a subscriber and was asked that after his Twitch show to crash a wedding with all his subscribers. That morning he had over 100 viewers. It was an odd experience- attending a stranger’s wedding while I sat at home, in bed, with my pajamas on. But by the time the bride and groom said “I do” I was full on emotional, crying into my pillow, thinking about my own wedding. I never thought I’d have the opportunity to crash someone’s wedding, even if it was virtually, in Las Vegas, being invited by a DJ with a hundred other people, who I didn’t even know. But when the classic vows were said, in that moment, regardless of the unfamiliarity of the situation, we all felt connected and one. It’s so amazing how the internet can bring people together to participate in a shared experience.
Like Mother, Like Daughter
Growing up, I was constantly compared to my dad. The dark skin, the dimples, thin lips, our penchant for adventure and traveling. Then there was that one summer when my Dad and I went to Guam where I got to know him a little better. But today, when my mom and dad came to visit us at our new place and while I was showing them around, the similar interest my mom and I share was evident. I showed her my thriving plant collection, my color coded bookshelf, my highly utilized sewing machine in which I inherited from her, and the pan of japchae I cooked for the first time. My mother has had a green thumb her entire life. In the Philippines she has a garden filled with fruit trees and exotic plants. Check out the video and pictures below. Her house is always immaculate, being compared to a museum because of its cleanliness and aesthetics. My mom also sews (pillows, curtains, clothes, etc.) and is a trained chef at heart. Her palobok, siopao and flan are highly requested by family and friends. Growing up with such a role model can be extremely intimidating. There’s nothing my mom can’t do, well. So when it was time for me to do some things on my own, I definitely had big shoes to fill. Yet, when my mom came over and I pointed out all the meaningful things I’ve done, she said “you’re becoming like me.” At a different time, I would have cringed, but today I was beaming with pride.
Dinner Party!
Something that I didn’t even consider but was worthy of sharing today was hosting my family. In the previous homes I lived, it was far and didn’t have adequate space to have people over. But today, it was so pleasant to have my family (sans my brother who was helping someone move) come over. Our place is relatively small- we don’t even have a dining table and we eat on the couch or on the floor in our living room, yet everyone seemed comfortable eating Korean food and catching up on life that the space or lack of a table, didn’t seem to matter. We were so focused with what was in front of us that the moment was all around perfect and meaningful. I never thought I’d be able to host a dinner party without a table! It made me realize that we can’t hold back from the things we want to experience merely because the situation isn’t perfect. Many beautiful things are possible if we look, appreciate and utilize what we have.
Check out my parents’ front yard in the Philippines:
Pictures of my parents’ garden in the Philippines and a family photo of us today
Today I attended an impromptu dinner party at my sister’s house; this is actually one of the reasons why we moved–to be closer to family and create memories. I can’t tell you the last time I attended a dinner party, on a MONDAY. Living away from close friends and family didn’t give us the opportunity to experience much spontaneity. But today, when my sister sent a text around 12:00 non and invited us over for 6:30 PM that same day, we didn’t hesitate to accept the invitation.
Dinner wasn’t complicated: my sister made a hearty pasta with plant based meatballs. I brought over a salad with ingredients from my refrigerator– spinach, broccoli, shredded carrots and toasted pine nuts. We drank wine and played with my niece before she took a bath. We sat around and watched Shark Tank and somehow we ended up talking about identify theft.
Sometimes it doesn’t take much to make a lasting memory; sure we could have made it more elaborate and complex but there was something about the uncomplicated, impulsive, and relaxed night that made everything easy and different.
I didn’t take a single picture tonight, so here’s one from the net. LOL
It’s been a busy few days, since I officially moved on Saturday, so I haven’t had time to post on my blog. Today, I made a concerted effort to get back to writing because of a gentle reminder from my new neighbor, Julietta. Julietta is a Filipina in her early 60s, twice divorced, with two married sons living in Las Vegas. She has five grandchildren– the oldest is seventeen and the youngest is five. I share these details with you because I feel like Julietta will be a person in my life that I will write about regularly. When Julietta knocked on my door, unannounced at 9:30 PM today, her hair was in a bun and secured with a bedazzled clip; she wore a bell sleeved top with starched white wide pants. Her fingernails were painted a metallic color, and she wore sandals that had a big gold bow. When she laughed, she slapped her knee and fanned the air. From afar, she looked like one of my students. But up-close, with no make up, while she didn’t look her age, her face was alert, like she had experienced many lives and knew many secrets. Within five minutes of pleasantries and introductions, she offered to bring a bottle of wine with grapes and cheese. I said sure, assuming she was referring to another night, but I was mistaken. She meant tonight– as in right now. My first thought was my 8:30 meeting tomorrow morning, in which I will be presenting to the Director of Curriculum and Instruction, so obviously I needed to be well prepared. The idea of polishing off a bottle of wine with someone who I barely knew and old enough to be my mother but dressed like a younger version of me, seemed like the most irresponsible thing to do. But when Julietta smiled and said she just got off work and did a little shimmy with her shoulders, there was something about her candor I couldn’t resist. I said Ok and went to the kitchen and rinsed off the wine glasses that had been collecting dust.
The visit with Julietta ended up being very interesting. I found out that she is a care taker, and her entire day revolves around people dying. For a person to be around death for over 20 years, I imagined she’d be more cynical and depressed. But actually, she is the complete opposite: she lives simply and appreciates every meal; she doesn’t go a day without thanking God for the roof over her head and she talks to her plants everyday and listens to motivational podcasts in the morning.
In our conversation she shared that you have to smell the flowers while you still can. And if you’re able to give flowers to someone– even better. As the saying goes- life is short. Julietta knows this, especially since her patients include a professor from UC Berkeley who wrote a published book about Organic Chemistry and her other patient is the former District Attorney of San Bruno, and both of them can’t even tell you their name or what day it is. They both have dementia. She referred to them as “The walking dead”. I asked her, knowing what you know, and seeing what you’ve seen, what’s a piece of advice you can give me. Without hesitation she said: “Do what you love. And if you love it, make sure it knows it.”
Julietta’s advice isn’t new. We’ve all heard a version of it, but for some reason her words resonated with me. Maybe it was because she didn’t seem like the typical 60 year old Filipina, and she knew a thing or two about death since she saw it almost everyday for the last two decades. Maybe it was because I had 3 glasses of wine and I was impressionable to anything I heard, or maybe it was because I genuinely cared about the wisdom Julietta was imparting on me. What ever the case, here I am on my blog, in which I’ve neglected because of moving. It took a complete stranger to remind me to go back to the thing I love and make sure it knows. I don’t know how to express to my blog how much I appreciate it, and I’m even more uncertain how to audit how it might even know that it is loved. But what I can do, as Julietta showed me today, is to make an effort, whether it’s praying and giving grace for every meal or offering a bottle of wine to a new neighbor or logging into an account and writing about a stranger. We all have our own unique ways of showing love for the things that matter. According to Julietta, as long as we live with this purpose, you’ll live a very fulfilled life. Her fingernails may be painted silver and gold and she may do a little dance when the opportunity arrises to drink on a random Monday night, but never the less, she’s absolutely wise beyond her years. It’s written all over her youthful face.
For the past few days, when you step outside, the entire bay area has smelled like a camp fire– coal, smoke, and wood. It’s as if everyone has decided to chop wood and set them all on fire, letting it flare up and blaze. Today, not only did it smell like fire, but the whole bay area looked like fire– the entire sky was deep red and burnt orange. I have never seen anything this mysterious in my life.
For the entire month it’s been one mystery after the other. Lightning in August. Fires the following week. And now a red and orange sky in September. Maybe it’ll snow tomorrow. Better yet, how about a sand storm. I know I shouldn’t make light of the situation; Mother Earth probably needs deep healing right now, and the way we’re taking care of Her and each other is nothing to laugh and joke about. Honestly ya’ll I try to keep the vibe on my blog positive, but lately it’s been so hard to keep it together. I’m really struggling with all these changes, and I’m starting to feel my positivity slowly fade away. Everyday, I’m putting more and more effort to remain loving and positive because I know there’s no room for negativity, especially when the state of the world needs lifting, not sinking.
Maybe, I’ll channel the bay area energy and remain resilient. Even when scarred and burned, she fights through the haze, only to come out changed and transformed, in light and in color.
We signed our lease yesterday, and our move in date is next Saturday, which means I have roughly 14 days to pack up an entire two bedroom condo, in which we’ve lived in for three years. Of course we’ll have a lot of things to pack; three years is ironically a long time for two people to accumulate “stuff”. Just thinking about my bookshelf with hundreds of books gives me anxiety.
To get things started, my husband and I started packing up the living room tonight. I wasn’t expecting to get emotional because I have moved about a dozen times in my life, so I’m very familiar with the emotional toll it takes to move. I purposely don’t harbor attachment to any particular place; I know that I will probably leave in a few years. However, when I started taking down decorations and art installations, I couldn’t help but feel a bit nostalgic. I started untwisting the hooks from the ceiling and thought about how it took me several weeks to find the exact rope and clay for my moon phase art installation. I toiled over the black and white clay to the exact proportion to replicate marble and baked it over a low setting that still set off the fire alarm. For hours the entire house smelled like burned rubber. I opened up all the windows and doors which led to a swarm of flies coming in. It took me a hour to kill all of them. All the while, I had to do this at least three times because each clay batch came out cracked before they finally came out perfect. Then I had to find the perfect string to tie around my bamboo pole and figure out how to space out and balance each moon. Now, in my new place, I’m not sure if I’ll have the space to display it.
I’m not necessarily sad about the art installation. I’ve created art installations – small and modest– for almost all the homes I lived in, and I actually never bring it to my next place of residence– like the book page wreath I made and left for my home in El Sobrante, or the New Yorker Magazine art wall I created for only Concord, or the magnet poetry display I made for my time in Pittsburg. I consider my space, the vibe, my overall feelings in the house and let these feelings guide my new project. Sometimes, like the time I lived in a house with three other girls in Hercules, I didn’t have the desire or inspiration to make anything. I’ve made art projects, not necessarily to beautify my place, but they were more of an opportunity to express myself through art, and to create a peace offering or welcome gift to my new abode.
I don’t know what I will make for my new place. My process is usually living in the space for a few months and waiting for a call or an urge that speaks to me. I’m sure, after a while, when the boxes are unpacked, the rugs are rolled out, the books are on shelves, when things feel more settled, I’ll get an impulse or a calling. It’s not necessarily the art project, like a wreath or a moon, that I look forward to creating, but it’s creating memories- like a room filled with smoke, flies and a blaring alarm– that, for now, will help me turn the impersonal house into my special home.
Today I had to write a letter explaining to the owner of a potential home why me and my husband are the perfect candidates from the plethora of applicants. Full disclosure: this is probably the most awkward letter I’ve ever had to write. Mainly because I had to write about myself in a boastful yet meaningful way. It was the oddest balance. In one paragraph I had to explain how I was responsible as a human being and then the next paragraph I had to justify how I would care for the home. I understand why these explanations would be beneficial for the owner, but for the applicant, like me, it felt unnatural to sell my characteristics to a complete stranger via email. It felt so impersonal. But I did it anyway. Like I said in yesterday’s blog: the process of finding a new home is an exhausting one. Then finding the “one” and then having to persuade, via email, a complete stranger to pick you as the best potential applicant feels desperate but normal all in the same vein. Who would have thought having a high credit score, being gainfully employed and preparing a large deposit wouldn’t be the deciding factors to securing a potential house…all it takes are words, and lucky for me, despite feeling awkward about the circumstances, there’s pleasure in knowing that my letter, my words will be the most significant factor of convincing a stranger that I’m the one.
Today my husband and I went on a search for a new home. It’s been a few years since we’ve had to do this, and now I remember why so many people complain about house hunting. It’s a very emotional process. The pictures online are very enticing but are often filtered, so when you actually see the place in real life, it’s very disappointing. The carpets are stained, the square footage is small, the yard is unkept, and the most glaringly common feature is that it just didn’t feel like home. Despite what the homes looked like, as soon as I entered, I couldn’t picture my husband and I living there. They say that you have to see at least a dozen places before you find the one, and if that’s the case then we are halfway there.
I know that this is not the time, nor is there ever an appropriate time to complain about a house. One should be grateful to have a roof and bed, regardless of how the roof looks or how the bed feels. There are many people who are houseless and will probably have no opportunity to own, rent or live in a home, permanently. The idea of complaining about the size of a closet or having laminate not granite counter tops pales in comparison to the real houseless issues people are facing all over the world. Just a city over, in San Francisco, I can tell you two streets that have become tent communities, meaning displaced people have congregated in public land and pitched tents to form a community. This is common, not just in San Francisco, but as more and more people lose jobs and become unemployed and as the cost of living in the bay area continues to rise and as more and more resources become scarce, tent communities will be continue to increase.
I need to put this into perspective the next time I visit a potential home. Sure, many of them will require me to use my imagination, which actually could be a fun experience, but if I think about the opposite– imagining the option of not having any home– then a quaint, humble, simple place to rest my head is nothing to complain about.
Sheila E. Navarro 