[no title]

Dear Readers,
I have never written poetry before...that is, before tonight. I was hit with a moment of brilliance while I was at work tonight: I wanted to write a poem. Why? Well, my main motivation was to get it published of course! At Westmont there is an organization called "The Phoenix" that celebrates the fine arts by publishing/recording original works in the Westmont community. I thought it would be a great opportunity to see if I could get something published, so I wrote this poem for the event. Now, here is where you, my dearest readers, come into that equation: I want your feedback! So, either email me or comment on this blog how you liked the poem and if there is anything I should fix. Please keep in mind that it is due Jan. 30 (3 days away), so hurry with the feedback/suggestions/comments. PS, I also need a title.....


Fall reminds me of my home,
dead dry cracked skeletons hanging
lifeless from tree branches,
as if a sponge has gone and soaked
up all the moisture in the air.

Where I come from is hot and dry,
Barren hills of fruitless wheat
meet the eye in pure cascades.
They call it golden summer grass,
But I know better than that.

I would always wonder on
the winding roads and turns,
dodging trucks to Sacramento,
how long it takes to climb
those dehydrated hills of windblown weeds.

It didn’t seem so steep at first,
the peak barely scraping the sky.
I was confident then, my dad
more cautious of the climb.
Fractured land, taut and red,

Crumbled beneath my eager feet,
broken by gray bones, the stepping stones.
I reached the top in no time
at all, the earth below a sea
of gold. The hill swelled in

Seconds, piercing the cerulean sky.
“One foot in front of the other”
my dad would mutter: determination
made it to the top. Thorns and briars,
ticks and sticks all came home with us

That night, a membrane of memories...... (see below!)
that can’t be scrap-booked. Fall remains
in me. Dry weeds and atrophied
earth stay at home, waiting for my
return.

......(alternative ending) That night. The membrane of memories
converges and in an instance,
the golden sea swallows me whole.
Fall reminds me of my home,
the brittle leaves crackling under
my feet.

The Agony.....Or the Ecstasy?

Dear Readers,
There is nothing like a good night's sleep. Yes, it is raining outside and I am trapped in the library right now, but I'm absolutely OK with that because of one thing: rest. Which is the reason I'm writing this: I'm in a good mood at the moment.

This semester has dragged on and on for me; all two weeks of it. Really, right now I just want to be off-campus, preferably in Italy (where I am applying to for the fall semester!).

I'm closing in on my third year here at Westmont. These years have been the most productive, stretching, and enjoyable years of my life; yet, there is still a part of me that wants to get away, to experience the world outside of Montecito. I really have nothing to complain about: my semester looks great this year, I have an amazing schedule, I'm involved in countless activities around campus, and I feel like I'm still learning at an exponential rate. But, for all of this, I want to leave. Its the strangest thing knowing you should love and appreciate the place you are at, but still long for a place far away. I don't want to go home; I want to go around the world, although not quite in 80 days.

So, what can I conclude? This semester is shaping up for me nicely so far, but there is still that longing, nagging feeling that I should be across the globe. Maybe I don't have a conclusion for myself: sometimes we have to live with the uncomfortable, to bask in the ambiguity, to wade into the unknown. And that is what I hope to accomplish this semester: become comfortable with the uncomfortable.

Sticks and Stones

Dear Readers,
I have a boulder hanging over my head. Actually, three of them. On the imaginary timeline of the semester which gives me a general scope of limits, there are three humongous projects due, all within the same week. Its terrifying to think that all this research and writing will have to be done by then, but I still find myself procrastinating. Why is that? I'm excited about the projects, want to research and discover, explore the possibilities. Yet, every time I'm at the computer I find myself slacking off instead of working. This isn't like me at all. Maybe I'm having an identity crisis.

I have a problem with the execution of plans. For example take two summers ago. I planned my whole summer out, created lists of exciting trips, daydreamed about the fun things I would fill my time with. Then what did I do? Lay on the couch the whole summer! There is something satisfying about making plans, tediously weaving the strands of time together in your head to form a picture of what could happen. But it never gets done. Plans like this help me get through the semester: I create a time for myself when I have nothing else to do but sit down and read a book or go out to coffee with a friend. But when the time comes around, I'm too lazy to actually get up and do it.

The good thing is, my friends, that I've realized the problem. No longer do I tell people that I would like to talk to them with no intention of ever following through with the action. I go on coffee dates, stop in the middle of homework to check up on my roommates, and drop by my friend's rooms just to say hi. Its tiring, annoying at some times, inconvenient at others, but most of all, its satisfying. I'm true to my word, and true to my work. I get things done! Yay for me!

Creature Comforts

Dear Readers,
I miss my Brit Lit book. Remember that thing? It looked like a large paperback brick, was about 3,500 pages long, and consumed my life for the past year. It was my baby. I carried it around everywhere, whether it was to coffee, the DC, or even all the way home on long weekends. It fit into my arm like a puzzle piece; it just felt right to have it by my side at all times. This attachment wasn't extraneous or delusional: I needed my Brit Lit book by me at all times. At every spare moment, I got a jump start on the reading that was due the next week. I wasn't overachieving; I was finishing the assignment the only way I could. It consumed my life, but this wasn't a bad thing. I enjoy reading with all of my heart; I love being able to say that I have read a certain passage or take a pity quote from an author.

I have found out this semester that there was a certain comfort in my Brit Lit book. It was so predictable. Every assignment consisted of reading (which could be found on the one page syllabus folded in between the pages of my book). There weren't multiple books to keep track of, no special papers or projects that were assigned. Every day we would take a quiz then have 2 hours of lecture. Every couple of weeks we would have a test. That was it: simplicity and elegance in a college course. But I've graduated since then to other English classes. More specified English classes, ones that you have to write papers for and give reports in. This scares me: it's not predictable! Every class has a different date for each project, each project has certain specifications, plus the regular reading that comes along with it. I'm going out of my mind trying to think of what is due in the next week that I get so overwhelmed by just those facts that I completely miss the regular homework assignments.

I haven't quite found a moral to the story yet. I'm still getting used to the different schedules and classes that are being thrown my way. I'm absolutely enjoying every minute of the classes I'm enrolled in, but they are a lot of work (though I think worth the effort). But the good thing is that I'm a junior still: I have a year and a half yet to figure it out.

The Seventh Day

Dear Readers,
Its been a hard semester for me so far. Enjoyable, yes; relaxing, no. Rest has been a problem for me ever since I came back to Westmont. Of course, this problem did not just start inexplicably when I came to Santa Barbara; it has been building up in my daily routine for quite a while.
The root of the cause is that I don't find enjoyment in the things that I used to. My entire Ripon Christian experience consisted of basically two different mindsets. There was the hard work and dedication that I put into learning, as well as the time that I put into extracurriculars, musical and athletic. This was my 5-day work week, the time when the main amount of effort and exertion of my mind and body was poured out into those five days. I got a social, educational, and physical respite on the weekend: I would stay cooped up in our house, surfacing once or twice for a walk around the park or for church, maybe even a party once and a while. These days were wasted in electronic (yet ignorant nonetheless) bliss, eaten up by computer games and endless TV shows. This was how I relaxed, and it worked for me at the time. Sure, it wasn't the most wholesome or enriching use of my time, but it wasn't like I did that all the time; it was reserved for the weekends, something that I looked forward to, a goal that I worked towards.

I'm in college now. My world has been turned upside down; actually, more like bleared and smeared. My worlds have collided, to use a quote from Seinfeld. School and home are no longer separate entities to me. I no longer have the usual 8 hour school day with unlimited (OK, from 4-10pm) hours at home that I could fill my time with. My days are now filled with classes and commitments - I don't have spare time! Between 2 jobs, 3 classes, 4 singing groups, and 3 meals, I can't seem to find any time to take out of my schedule for the main purpose of relaxing. Not only this, but the times that I actually do have to relax are taken up with trying to figure out the best way for me to relax. I don't find the same enjoyment in the computer and the TV as I used to - to be honest, I'd much rather be reading a book. But the problem with this collision is that I'm afraid that my school work would interfere with my relaxation. Let me make this clear - I'm afraid that the reading I do for leisure will becomes confused and intermixed with the reading I have to do for my 2 English classes; bleared and smeared you might say.

Although this seems to be quite the paradox of a situation, don't depress yourselves gentle readers. I recently talked with a professor who offered me some sage advise: write. Therefore, I am going to be trying to take more time out of my schedule to do something which I love. And, thanks to this blog, you get to see the fruits of my labors. They might be short posts, they might be absurd or fragmented, and they might come at irregular intervals. But, know this my dear readers, you will be hearing more from me from now on. That I promise.

Windy Cities

Dear Readers,
As I sit here in my comfortable living room, waiting for the day to start, I am faced with the fact that tomorrow I will be off for a very busy/exciting/fun week in Chicago. The anticipation for this week has been building ever since I actually went down to the Davids Bridal in Oxnard to be sized for the two weddings that I would be in. At the time, these two weddings seemed horribly far away, and the dress I was trying on had no meaning to me. They were both beautiful satin outfits, one black, on dark blue. It didn't really make sense that this dress would be only one of many purchased by several loved ones to represent their commitment to the two people who would be getting married.

To tell you the truth, I never thought this day would come. This day where I would be packed up, waiting for my mom to shower and lug her bags out to the car where my dad would take us to the airport. Chicago seemed like a distant dream. Of course, I had loved the time up until now, sitting in my English classes looking up bridesmaids dresses instead of studying, thinking of how much fun I would have at this event, the joy that I would have in seeing the faces that I have loved so much over the years. It truly is an exciting thing to be sitting on this couch at this moment, waiting for these things to happen, because for the first time they finally seem tangible. Tomorrow I will be in Chicago!

There's no place like Home

Dear Readers,
I hang my head in shame that it has been so long since I have written. Let me tell you that it was not because I don't love you all, but in this past month I have horribly busy. You see, I stayed in Santa Barbara for a month longer than the rest of my fellow students for summer school. It was a bittersweet experience: I made some great friends, a few that I had never even met before, but I also had to take two horrible classes that I dreaded going to every day. Even though it was hard to say goodbye to my friends, I am glad to finally be at home even if it is only for a couple of days.
On Wednesday my mom and I head out for Iowa; we are going to go visit Julie and Erik. I'm not sure what we are going to do to entertain ourselves there for a week, but I will be bringing many books along just in case. When I get back from that, I'll have lots to keep my busy: camping trips, two weddings, organizing the DVDs, and of course reading. My friends and I have started a club called the "Finer Things Club"; we each picked out two books and we're going to have a rotating schedule to read and discuss these books every 2 weeks. I am very excited about this. Otherwise, my summer is looking pretty open, hopefully I'll have a lot of time to relax and catch up on some things. Peace out!