Merry Christmas!

Happy Holidays

Friends

I have a deep burning question in my soul. Like, what even is friendship?

Confession time: I have no idea what friendship means.

Whenever I don't know what to do, Sherlock
comes with words of wisdom.

My closest friend is someone I met two years ago.

Yup.

I don't understand friendship. In fact, I would say it's . . . M A G I C

It had to be done.

Even the people I consider as acquaintances have a sort of magic with them -- they still talk to me occasionally, so that's something. I have no idea why, but they do.

Magic.

Somehow, every friend is an adventure.

I don't understand how it works, but I'm willing to roll with it.

Belonging

What does it mean to belong? What creates that feeling in us? The feeling of "this is my home -- this is where I'm most comfortable -- where I know I'm supposed to be". The feeling of absolute rightness.

How does it happen?

When somebody says home, there are two places that come to mind -- neither of them are my physical home (not to say that I dislike it, it's just not the first place that comes to mind).

The first and immediate one is the Bell Center at the MidAmerica Nazarene University where the annual One Year Adventure Novel Summer Workshop is held. The way the light comes in through the windows and warms the tiles and lights up the brown paneling. The hustle and bustle as people group and talk and hug and laugh. The way the individual groups can suddenly turn into a crowd of joy. The way OYAN makes it home.

I don't know that many people there, but I don't have nearly as much social anxiety. Usually, around that many people, I find myself reduced to a nervous puddle in the corner. At the summer workshop, I am happy -- I belong.

People say TeenPact is a similar community, but I'm not sure. I love the program and the people are wonderful, but I've never felt like I belong. I've never wanted to stay in touch with people from TeenPact (sorry, guys!). Maybe it's because between my anxiety and the rigorousness of the program I find myself functioning in a state of exhaustion that prohibits me from even wanting to attempt to socialize. Maybe it's because I don't know most of the people period. Long story short, I've never belonged in the TeenPact community.

OYAN may exhaust me, but it thrills me and excites me at the same time. There's something freeing in a community of people who all understand social awkwardness. Shared pain and shared interests draw us together. It's easier to talk to people, to relate to people. Even then, it doesn't explain how I can be almost extroverted, drawing energy from being around people. Almost.

There's one other place that I think of when someone says home: My dojang. For whatever reason, the families that are there now are a community.

Maybe it's because many of them are there almost every day.

Maybe it's something else.

But whether I'm sitting on the bleachers or working on the red and blue mats of the ring, I know I belong. We laugh, we cry, we hit each other -- we're a big happy family.

I don't know why that sense of belonging happens. It just does.

It's wonderful and magical and I wish I could feel it more often -- but the rarity of the sense that there is nowhere else in the world that I'm supposed be makes it all the more special and worth treasuring.

Regrets

I have many regrets.

I regret not going to sleep earlier last night.

I regret spending so much of my life on YouTube.

I regret not introducing myself with "only 19 but my mind is older".

I regret not being more involved with people.

I regret some of my previous reading choices.


Having regrets sucks. It means that there were missed chances, missed opportunities.

Would've/could've/should've beens.

At the same time, it means that the yawning black pit of regrets has opened beneath my feet and is trying to drag me in.

It's incredibly easy to get sucked in, to succumb to the endless cycle, to depression.

I've spent more than enough of my life moping, thank you very much.

Now is not the time to be looking over my shoulder at the would've-could've-should've-beens. Now is the time to plow forward, to seize the day, to be non-stop.

I don't have time for regrets -- I only have time to live.

Happy Halloween!!

Warning: If you're easily creeped out, don't ever watch anything by Tim Burton. That includes this.

Stay safe as bats fly about and nightmares creep into your beds.

WARNING: UNSOCIALIZED

Confession time: I'm a homeschool kid and I'm proud to be unsocialized.

I wish I weren't so socially awkward, but I'm proud to be unsocialized.

That being said, I'm not exactly using the conventional, dictionary definition of "socialize" which is what people usually look at to define socialization (get your act together people).

Socialization refers to a psychological/sociological process that teaches, according to dictionary. com,

"the norms, values, behavior, and social skills appropriate to his or her social position"

If you scroll further down the page, the British definition is much more to the point, defining socialization as follows:

"the modification from infancy of an individual's behaviour to conform with the demands of social life"

I don't know about you, but this sounds like socialization means conforming. I want to be my own person and have my own thoughts, thanks very much.

Of course, as a homeschooler, of one of the most common questions we hear is "But what about socialization?"

So what about it? I have no intention to conform to all of society's norms. It's more fun being my own person.

You can have your socialization.

I'll be my own weird person.

Librarians

When people say the word librarian, I just kind of blank out. It's just a nice blank white space.

Because I think of different librarians in different contexts. Outside of those contexts, I don't know which to think about. I like both, to a certain extent. Neither of them really jump to the forefront of my mind.

Words have power, but sometimes there's just so much that comes to mind that I blank out.

Iko Kasahara from Library Wars: Love & War is a librarian. Of a sort.

its so pretty @_@

I love the story (this is one of the few series where I want to buy all the books and make myself go broke -- like FMA). I tend to think of Kasaraha because she's the protagonist in the series and the premise of the series is intriguing. It stuck.


I also tend to think of Shasta Smedry from the Alcatraz and the Evil Librarians series.

Shasta's the grumpy woman on the right.

...yeah, that doesn't exactly help my perception of librarians.

Not all librarians are evil. But most of them are. And Brandon Sanderson does an excellent job portraying them as such.


Obviously, these are fictionalized librarians, but they still affect my perception of librarians. Are they good, willing to do anything to protect the freedom to read? Or are they evil, controlling the information that we're given?
What do you think?

The Perfect Word

I am a writer.

I'm not a very good one, but I am a writer. And as a writer, something that intrigues me is the fact that some of the concepts in journalism are so essential to fiction, yet those concepts are often overlooked.
Most importantly, the idea of using specific words in the perfect arrangement.

The most valuable of all talents is that of
never using two words when
one will do. -Thomas Jefferson

I've heard this quote before and I've seen examples of the concept in fiction (a series that is highly praised for its use of this exact idea is Maggie Stiefvater's Raven Cycle) but it never truly struck me how important it is for a storyteller to do this.

Of course, importance usually makes it harder. In fact, it is often painfully hard to write prettily (not necessarily concisely).

I have made this letter longer than usual,
only because I have not had the time
to make it shorter -Blaise Pascal

It takes way more effort to choose specific words than to just let everything flow out.

I'm a spewer. I just type what's on my mind. It's much harder for me to choose which words capture what I want to say in a more precise manner.

This is essential to a journalist so that they don't risk offending people and losing their position. It's also important to (at least in theory) use specific language to keep from showing specific bias.

It's also essential to a writer. Words convey emotion, whether anybody realizes that or not. When setting a scene, brilliant blue describes a completely different emotion from soft blue.

Words are important and it matters which ones you use.

Choose the perfect word. Don't settle for less. Your writing will benefit from it.

Growing Up

....means maturity?

What does maturity even mean? Is it a mindset? Something that naturally happens? Is it deeper than that?

The online Merriam-Webster dictionary defines maturity as follows:

the quality or state of being mature

Of course, this leads to an obvious next question; what is maturity? Again, consulting the Merriam-Webster dictionary:

having or showing the mental and emotional qualities of an adult

This seems to be getting nowhere. What does it mean to adult? Merriam-Webster defined "adult" as follows:

mature and sensible: not childish

Wow. Well, that went full circle on me. Time to consult another source. What does our culture think it means to adult? I consulted the Urban Dictionary to find my answer and came up with the following:

A person who has stopped growing at both ends and is now growing in the middle.

Humorous, but not quite what I was hoping for. I scrolled further down the page in search of something deeper. I was not disappointed.

A depressed child. Adults have the notion that juveniles need to suffer. Only when they have suffered enough to wipe out most of their joyous spirits and innocence are they staid enough to be considered 'Adult'.

The others were interesting, to be sure, but not nearly as capturing as this one. Also profanity. So, y'know.

That being said, is that truly what it means to adult? To be a grumpy, depressed, lifeless being? Does adulting mean that you become a dementor, sucking the life out of others?

I mean, that kinda sucks. I don't want to be a dementor.

Here's the thing. People tell me I have adult qualities, that I'm "mature" and "responsible". I just tell them that they don't know me very well.

They haven't seen me avoiding work. They haven't seen me missing deadlines.

They see me as a role model for their children (if their kids turn out anything like me, they're doomed).

I have a childhood friend who has been an adult since the day she was born. Never in trouble, not really into fist-fights/hair pulling/pinching/teasing like I was. Her sense of humor finally emerged publicly couple years ago, shocking many.

Our families are friends, so we interacted a lot as kids. Throughout the years, her siblings and my siblings (myself included) always looked at her and saw her as the ideal adult. We saw her as "this is what we look forward to -- this is the ideal adulting".

We probably thought it would just magically happen (if it didn't then we'd failed and our families would hate us or something).

Now I'm a legal adult, her younger brother is almost a legal adult... and there has been no magical transformation.

But that's okay. Because adulting is different than what we thought.

It doesn't mean perfection. It doesn't mean soul-sucking. It doesn't even mean boring. It doesn't mean a whole lot, actually.

Yes, there's responsibility involved with getting older. Bills have to be paid, the body needs to be fed, jobs need to happen... As we get older, we have to accept these responsibilities. I think it's part of the maturing process. But that doesn't mean that the fun in life is gone.

Our Tae-Kwon-Do Grandmaster is... a dork. Don't tell him I said that. Or call him that to his face. But he really is. However, he understands that there is a time and place for everything.

If he's instructing, he's very serious. On the flip side, he also enjoys hanging out with us juvenile delinquents in the making and seriously gets into card games like Slapjack (he's super competitive like the rest of us, so games are almost like war because he'll do almost anything to win). He'll throw Hi-Chews at us, toe-pinch us, and tease my little brother to no end -- when the situation allows him to goof off like that. But if he needs to be serious, he'll be very serious and adult-y.

I'm going to take a page from his book as I continue to grow up and mature.

There's a time and place for everything -- especially fun.

Live joyfully, have fun.

Happiness Is...

...sitting in Chick-fil-A in the morning.

It's mid-morning and it's quiet in here. They've got food and decent iced coffee.

It's peaceful. Quiet.

The usually occupied corners are open and I can hide in them, away from people.

Most days, I don't eat breakfast. When I come here, I make sure I get food. It's almost a requirement.

Today's a beautiful day. If anything, the hot air balloons proved it (it's the time of year when Albuquerque hosts the International Balloon Fiesta). It was distracting, but wonderful all at the same time (when I wasn't worried about crashing).

It's peaceful and I'm happy.

Thoughts on Thailand: Worship

Warning:
Church speak ahead!

Our group of five people went to Thailand to serve our brothers and sisters in Christ there.

//end church speak

Basically, our little group was invited by a missionary family that we know and support to come on a short term mission trip to Thailand. We would just be working with a local church's youth group and visiting other Christians in Bangkok.

This allowed us to look at how other people worship. 

Something that really stuck with me was how some of the other Christians worshiped. It wasn't that we could understand them -- in fact, they were singing a Psalm, something that I've never done -- but the emotion that came through was so beautiful.

The family that was worshiping had been through things that I've never dreamed of. Yet when they sang, they sang about how good God was and they conveyed the belief in their hearts into tangible emotions. There was an undeniable joy in their faces as they raised their hands to heaven and praised God.

The greatest joy comes through the greatest trials. They had great joy and they were beautiful.

The Thai church was different as well. It was there that I remembered that worship is work. They worked to worship. It wasn't just a sing-along, something that I've noticed I do a lot. It was passionate, it was let us praise our God because He is good, it had energy, it had life, it was wonderful.

There were some songs we recognized and others we didn't. During the youth camp, we struggled to learn "This is the Day" in Thai. I don't remember anything but the joy that came with being able to sing with them in their language. It was the day that the Lord had made, and we rejoiced and were glad. Upon further thought, it was work -- especially as I struggled to stumble through the unfamiliar words and sounds -- but there was a joy in the work.

That's what worship is. It's work, but there is an overwhelming, beautiful joy in the work.

Thoughts on Thailand: Culture Shows and Elephant Rides

One of the things that stuck out to me the most was our main tourist-y day. That was the day we took to do a bunch of tourist things, which included visiting the Rose Garden (there were no roses there). While we were there, all of us got to ride an elephant.

Well, I say got to. I'd also like to say that I was kind of forced into it. I hate heights and elephants aren't exactly small. Also I dislike doing new things. I've ridden a camel before and I didn't even like that, so I was pretty sure I wasn't going to think much of an elephant ride. (I didn't)

While we were there, we also went saw an elephant show and a culture show. It was... an experience.

The elephant show was... entertaining, I suppose. I mean, everyone enjoyed watching the elephants do tricks. I couldn't stop thinking about what the training had looked like. (I also have a tendency to be melodramatic and I don't know if my imagination was running away with me) I also couldn't stop thinking about the fact that animals in captivity often die sooner than their free counterparts. There was one part where the elephant was instructed to smile and everyone laughed -- I couldn't stop thinking about what they would have done if this were a human. In my mind, it was a little like the one scene in The Little Drummer Boy, where Aaron's smile is painted on.

He is far from happy, yet he looks as if he is all right. The crowd loves it and the empathetic viewers are sickened.

It shouldn't have bothered me that much, but it did.

As if to add insult to injury, we went to the culture show after that. It was informative and nearly as degrading. It was, in all actuality, a very good introduction to Thai culture. However, I couldn't stop thinking about the elephant show and wondering if this troupe of actors was anything similar to a circus (which tended to be a pretty awful thing to be part of).

It was a long day and I still don't know how much of what I thought about that day is actually important. But it did impact me and I know that the thoughts I had throughout the afternoon will stick with me for a very long time.

Thoughts on Thailand: International Travel

I dislike international travel. Very much.

That being said, I love airports. This was no different. Airports tend to be little cultural centers and it was fun to be able to look around each airport that we were in. There's really not much to say about the L.A. airport. It was a typical airport, although on the way home, the terminal was a bit small and didn't offer much in terms of entertainment for people who's flights got delayed. Also, going out, there was a frozen yogurt stand right around the corner from our gate but they were literally, I kid you not, out of frozen yogurt. Completely out. It was awful.

Narita was probably my favorite, mostly because that was where we spent most of our time (again, not counting the delay in LAX). On our way out, I walked around with my best friend and watched part of a kimono lesson (there was literally a space in the airport that was set aside to teach people traditional Japanese customs, from tea to kimonos). It was also interesting to see all the makeup stores. In general, it felt like being in a mall, only with gates and announcements coming in over the intercom. Also, if you think Americans are obsessed with beauty, you've never met Asians. If Americans are obsessed, Asians are fanatical and it shows in their advertisements and posters. On the way back, my bosom friend (hah reference) and I went souvenir shopping. We didn't get much, but the joy is in the looking.

The Bangkok airport was no less interesting. We were too tired to really note anything until customs, when we were standing in line and literally the only thing you could see were the posters and banners that were both welcoming and warning of Buddha land. The bathrooms had upright toilets and I couldn't have been more grateful for that. The other thing worth mentioning is the fact that there was a 7-11 in the airport. It feels like all of Bangkok lives on 7-11 with how common they are. On the way back, we spent a bit of time souvenir shopping and there was the best little store with the softest plush animals.

Of course, our darling little Sunport has to be mentioned as well. It's always fun going to the airport when you're leaving, just because you know you're going somewhere and I, at least, get a thrill just from that. But words cannot describe how relieved I was to get back to our quaint little airport. Again, I feel like airports are cultural hubs and if I ever doubt myself, I just have to go look at our Sunport. In my mind, it practically screams New Mexico. All the little souvenir shops have something turquoise or other distinctly New Mexican flavored items. Most airports have t-shirts that scream love for that place -- those are not what catch my attention in our airport (mostly because there aren't a lot of t-shirts being sold). At the same time, our airport is just... different. The color scheme is closer to turquoise and beige as opposed to the stark white of most other airports. There really isn't a lot going on, but there's enough to keep a person occupied for a little while. I always love flying back into Sunport because as soon as I step foot in the airport, I know I'm home.

In case I wasn't clear at the beginning, I love airports.

I hate international travel. I have long legs, which makes for uncomfortable seating. I also hate sitting for long periods of time. And airplane food is the worst. Something else I learned is that one can only listen to Les Miserables so many times in a row before it starts getting really depressing really fast. The movies are all right, but when combined with the long periods of sitting, it gets really old really fast. I dislike planes and this only cemented that fact. Passports, customs forms... it was an experience, filling out paperwork in Thailand and L.A. Also, getting through customs. That was... exciting. It was different and I wasn't exactly appreciative of the experience at the time.
Just thinking about now is making me borderline uncomfortable, actually. I really don't like being constrained to one seat/position. It's uncomfortable and I value my freedom of movement. I did enjoy being a human pillow, so there's that.

If I could, I would do the international travel without the plane bit. But since I can't, and I did enjoy the trip, I suppose the plane is just a necessary evil.

Thoughts on Thailand: Culture Shock (or the Lack Thereof)

This summer, I got a chance to go to Thailand with my closest friends. It's been a couple months since the trip, but I recently got reminded of everything that we did there.

I figured the first thing I'd talk about was the culture shock. I was expecting it to be so much worse than it actually was. The worst that happened was I reverted to not quite eating everything that was put in front of me. For me, the most overwhelming thing was being somewhere for an extended period of time where I didn't understand anything going on around me. I'm used to that in small amounts because I go to a Chinese church and my family tends to stop in at Asian stores every now and then. I know there will be things that I don't understand and that's all right -- that's just how it is. Also, the undulations of the Thai language is slightly different from Chinese and it threw me off for a bit as well.

Outdoor markets are so similar to some of our Chinese stores here -- the only difference is that the outdoor markets were outside, literally on the streets of Bangkok. It's also slightly less sanitary (again, they're literally on the streets of Bangkok) than in a store here, but I think I was expecting it to be worse than it was. Otherwise, the smells, the whole raw dead animal carcasses, and the flopping fish were all fairly normal. It might have helped that I can space out when I'm half asleep -- and I was definitely still half asleep.

We also visited shopping centers (malls) while there. Our group stayed in the cultural part of the center (it's like a boardwalk type place, like the Plaza in Santa Fe where you walk by vendors who are selling turquoise jewelry and the like -- things that are unique to New Mexico) when we weren't eating, but we did pass stores that made it seem like we were in a mall at home. We even went to a Starbucks while there! The shopping center seems to present a picture of Bangkok in miniature -- modernity walking alongside tradition. Even just the outdoor markets showed this, one of them sharing the same space as a 7-11 which was sitting across the street from Victorian style apartment buildings. It was intriguing to me just as a person (I mean, I spent most of the time in San Francisco looking up -- they have Gothic style buildings that house McDonalds, okay? The idea is just so captivating for me) and I spent a lot of our travel time (driving from place to place, or going down the river in a boat) watching the buildings go by and noting how so many different styles could all sit so close together.

It was almost nice not drowning in white people (no offense against any of you white people). I literally have no filter between my mouth and brain when I'm tired, so on the way back through customs in L.A. I probably offended somebody by commenting on the plethora of white people. It also helped that we didn't really do the normal touristy stuff, so we didn't come in contact with a lot of white people (we ran into couple crowds of white people when we visited general tourist sites, but since that wasn't our focus, we didn't spend a lot of time in those areas).

We stayed in Bangkok for the whole trip (if we ever left it, I wouldn't know) and I am grateful for that. Our first layover in the Narita airport in Tokyo, Japan left me a bit wiser on the use of squatty potties. If you don't know what that is, look it up. While Thailand has incorporated traditional Western toilets, most people there are actually still more comfortable with said squatty potties. In Narita, I ended up using the squatty potty stall. I wouldn't recommend it as it turned into a rather memorable experience. The rest of our trip was much less stressful as the places we visited all had standard upright toilets (even if they were questionably sanitary).

The humidity was very bearable. People had spent the two weeks leading up to the trip warning me about the humidity but I found it to be tolerable. It was not unlike being in Tallahassee, Florida (I was there two years ago, the first week of August for TeenPact Congress). Air conditioning is fantastic and I would hate living there without it, but we were able to balance our time outside with our time inside and I (obviously) survived the ordeal. Yes, I would avoid going outside if at all possible, but it isn't a terrible experience either (I thought I was going to melt into a puddle or something from all the dire predictions people were giving me).

The food is fantastic. We avoided all Thai spice (which is good because I can't handle any level of spiciness). Even without spice, Thai food has a different flavor to it. It was different from anything I'd had before (flavor wise, not so much food wise). Almost every day meant something different and an experience that we wouldn't forget. Oddly enough, the shared cooking adventure we all had was when our team decided to make tortillas so we could have soft taco/burrito type things for dinner. You would think that coming from New Mexico, we would be able to, but nope. We all learned how to make tortillas in Thailand. That was an adventure all on its own.

All in all, I'm not sure there was a lot of culture shock going on in my head. It was new, yes, but it was also an okay kind of new. Like going to the Grand Canyon. It's different, but it's not like it completely throws me off and rattles me to my core.

Dear People

Dear People who Tell me About TV Shows I Should Watch,

Please stop. I have mentioned this before to you, but I do have other things in my life. Like school. And creating visuals for you.
You clearly do not understand that I have a commitment to books first. Books have been and always will be my first love. That being said, I have taken the time to create a visual that you should refer back to before recommending a new TV show to me.

Do you see that smaller stack of books? That's my schoolwork, not including the current textbooks and etc. I have on Kindle/various other electronic sources. That large stack of books is all the books I want to read for fun before the year is over.
I do enjoy TV shows.
But not right now.
So please, for the sake of my sanity and those around me, stop recommending shows to me.

On Flat Tires

Two weeks ago, I left a friend's house on a Sunday evening and promptly ran over a curb. The driver's side front tire popped and I flattened a hubcap as I drove to a nearby Whole Foods parking lot. Thankfully, there were friends there who knew how to change a spare (I now know how to change a spare thanks to them).
It was an adventure, standing in the middle of a Whole Foods parking lot and getting drenched in the downpour. The whole debacle also took a lot longer than it should have, mostly because I hadn't known the extent of the damage but the way the car was reacting had been freaking me out, so I parked on a slight slope (word for the wise, don't ever do that). I hated that entire time and (as it was a rather recent event) I'm still trying to get over the mental block I have towards driving. The entire time we were standing in the parking lot, I needed people to be there with me. I needed the emotional support because I was freaking out so badly.

The following Sunday, my Sunday School class talked about the parable of the Good Samaritan and if we'd ever had an experience like that, where we were completely reliant on the help of another person and it was their kindness that saved the day. The follow-up question was a good one as well, as we were asked if that experience had taught us anything, even if it just meant being compassionate to those in a similar situation.
I had needed the kindness in the parking lot because, again, I had no idea what the first step to changing a flat tire was. Their kindness turned a disaster into a miserably happy memory in my mind.

Thursday rolls around and we discover that some friends got a flat tire while they were at our martial arts school. While I wasn't able to do much to help (the guys had that covered), I was able to be the emotional support to their daughter. She seemed okay and she was acting pretty normal, but I knew what it was like to be in that situation and she admitted to being a bit nervous. In all honesty, it's terrifying when you don't quite know what's going on and sometimes, you just need a hug.
That was exactly what she needed and I understood that -- but only because two weeks ago, I blew out a tire and had a mini-adventure in the Whole Foods parking lot.

An Introduction of Sorts

I have blogged before. It's kind of been an on-off/love-hate relationship for the past seven years. The reason I want to get back to it is partly because I got inspired by my journalism course.
But mostly, it's because I keep getting reminded of the hidden things. The little things that seem so unimportant but end up being points of light along the journey.

I'm very emotional and get depressed easily. In all truth, this blog is more for me. Something that I learned years ago is that the joy really is in the journey -- but if you don't record it, you don't remember. I spend enough time on the computer now where it's easier for me to just open a blog and use it as a journal of sorts.
As such, these posts will not be very well thought out and will be prone to ramble. The blog itself will have the same quality as my notebooks, with my thoughts flying all over the place with very little order (if any).

If you still choose to read this, then I wish you the best of luck.