If God was on my doorstep this morning...

I would re-enact that scene from "Say Anything" and blare this song out of a 1980's boombox as loud as the volume dial would go. This is the new single from the highly-anticipated (for me and my best friend anyway) album from The Fray. It's is self-titled and although you might think it's too early for this yet -- this song has become my all-time life-anthem and will now replace that wretched smelling pink bookbag that I still have hung in my closet from my homeless days. Not only is this song more therapeutic, but I'm sure my room will stop smelling so bad now that the bookbag has had its proper burial in the trash.



I found God on the corner of First and Amistad
where the west was all but won
All alone, smoking his last cigarette
I said "where have you been?"
he said "ask anything"

"Where were you
When everything was falling apart?
All my days
Were spent by the telephone
It never rang
And all I needed was a voice
It never came
To the corner of First and Amistad"

Lost and insecure
you found me, you found me
lying on the floor
surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait?
Where were you, where were you?
Jst a little late
you found me, you found me

In the end everyone ends up alone
losing her,
the only one whose ever known
who i am, who im not, who i want to be
no way to know,
how lost you will be next to me

lost and insecure
you found me, you found me
lying on the floor
why'd you have to wait?
where were you where were you?
just a little late
you found me, you found me

early morning city wakes
I've been calling
for years and years and years and years
and you never left me no messages
you never send me no letters
you've got some kind of nerve
sticking all i want...

lost and insecure
you found me, you found me
lying on the floor
where were you where were you?
lost and insecure
you found me you found me
lying on the floor
surrounded, surrounded
why'd you have to wait?
where were you where were you?
just a little late
you found me, you found me

yeah yeah

Why'd you have to wait
to find me, to find me?

I Can Drive! I Can Drive!!

Current Count:

Cons
1. slight minor bump into the side of the road, onto the curb, that I was afraid had ruined the alignment on my car.

2. Got lost a whole 3 times going to various places within the past week. Two of which I had to phone those I was headed to to get the final directions and find where exactly the hell I had found myself and the one time I was able to find my way home without any trouble at all - granted I don't know how I got where I eventually found myself, but the final result is that I made it home.

Pros
1. For one I have been able to visit friends I haven't seen in AGES. Which is always an awesome thing. I love seeing everyone, and catching up. It's nice.

2. Although J was sort of concerned that I might not be able to remember the way to Blockbuster in Timonium, or be able to navigate my way back - I insisted that I would be okay...and whatdoyaknow? I was perfectly fine! I had to drive all the way back York Rd to Towson to get onto Perring Pkwy and take the beltway there (because that's what I was familiar with even though I knew it was out of the way and a longer route) and I got home with no worries.

3. I drove all the way to DC!! Granted J was in the car with me, and I was following D - but still, I have to give it up to me, because going a little above the speed limit has freaked me out recently - due to the fact that I am just still getting used to driving again.

4. I drove BACK to Baltimore from LP's and D's house all by myself...following J... which I tell you, at 4 AM is not particularly easy. Especially cuz I was sleepy, tired, worn out from dancing, etc. But I made it. Although my parallel parking job was crooked, I could've cared less when I got home.


Now it's back to work - I have class tonight but I am soo exhausted. It's funny how just going out a few times in a weekend really wears you out to the core. I am so so so tired, and ready to take a 100-year nap.

PS. I went to LP's "Slumber Party" Saturday night - totally had a GREAT time...more on that later.

AND - I have decided that I want to register for AUTOCROSS this Spring! I told J that I am totally ready - and can't wait to go and have fun!!

The Most Beautiful View In The World

This has been my view of the world for the past week and a half. And what a gorgeous sight it is -- the dashboard of my 2008 Toyota Corolla.

For this Thanksgiving, I have been most thankful more than anything for the most amazing people that I have been blessed to have in my life. Friends who love me, care for me, and make sure that I am taken care of....Friends who made this possible this year:

So thank You for friends (family):

for cars, for left foot accelerators, for poetry, for blogs, for freedom, for crummy jobs that help pay the rent and put food on the table, and for sunsets:

It's tragedy that brings back reality

It was Friday night and I had just finally gotten my phone back. Six voice mails, a couple of unseen texts...nice to know that even without my phone I am still loved.

I grabbed a taxi home again since my Dad wasn't going to be home until close to midnight. I got another fantastic taxi driver whom I've decided to wait until a later blog post to write about. (Because I have been keeping a journal of all the taxi drivers that I have met over the past few years of using their transportation services. And since my use of them is coming to an end shortly, I decided to blog about my experiences, each and every one of them, in order to make my Ode to the Taxi Driver: My Long Lost Salvation)

Once I got home, my roommate was already up and in the kitchen with one of her friends making a "penis cake", that is, a cake shaped like a penis. Along with chocolate "penis pops", that is, chocolate molded in the shapes of penises on sticks. You know, to suck. (Okay, okay, enough of the sexual innuendo.) She was preparing these little "fun treats" for the bachelorette party the next night for one of her friends who is to get married in the next couple of weeks.

Gen-gen gave me a holla on my phone and said that he and Alex were set for a night out on the town. One, because her parents were out of town and two, because Gen-gen got his parents to watch the dog for a weekend. So he could party, of course. It was not my intention to really PAR-TAY, but I would be stupid if I didn't admit that every single time Gen-gen and I go out, insanity ensues. Craziness.

Well, Gen-gen headed over to my place. I excused the mess, because just like Goosey, I am not particularly a slob or messy persay, it's just that I tend to lay things here and there throughout the week because I am too exhausted to put them away in their place. So I wait until Friday night to put everything away to let the week start out nice and clean. Except that when Gen-gen came over, I hadn't gotten a chance to motivate myself yet.

He fell onto my bed and then lay there as I walked around trying to get ready. He asked me how my week went - which led to another conversation, that led to a delightfully wonderful conversation and revelation (which will end up being the next post).

We head out to Mosaic with Alex and two of her friends. This Filipina girl whose name I didn't catch and her boyfriend, I (To keep anonymity). Let me talk about I for a second - this man had to be double the age of the Filipina girl (who looked like she couldn't be any older than 24 or 25). Not only was I older than the hills in age, but he was older than the hills in dress, mannerisms and...well, absolutely everything. There's a difference between a person's age and then a person acting and dressing, and being consumed by that number. I was one of these people, evidently.

He is Russian (of course, right? Gen-gen and Alex are.) and he has this very creepy look about him. The kind of perv, I would take girls into dark alleys that are half my age look. The "I am Soviet, hear me roar!" kind of look. Not only that, but he began dancing, if that's what you would want to call it. I don't even think all the dictionary knowledge in the word could help me describe to you how terribly horrible this man was at dancing. Think about the stiffest dance you could possibly think of - add in a little bit of attempt to roll your hips - except instead of rolling them in a sexy way, you're literally plummetting them into the side of your dance partner awkwardly. All the while your right arm is pressed in the air bent at the elbow while your right leg is up and you're trying to do some half-Funky chicken dance. Except that "The Chicken Dance" isn't playing: "This Is Why I'm Hot" by Mims is. Yes, it was that bad, people.

Okay, now that I've gotten that out of my system...


After the club, Alex and Gen-gen and I headed back to his place. I noticed a missed call around 11:30 from my mom. She never calls that late. She's never up that late. So I called my VM and listened to the message.

My Dad had come home from work at Nordstrom's with a horrible pain in his side, puking all over the place and just feeling incredibly lousy. He had decided to head to the ER at St. Joe's and my aunt had agreed to take him. They had found a kidney stone about 3 milimeters inside of his kidney. She wanted to let me know that we weren't going to be going to my nephew's birthday party the next day.

Since it was so late, Gen-gen let me crash in his guest room. I had passed out on his couch a few hours before and woke up around 4:30 AM, and walked up to the guest room and collapsed out on the bed.

Around 7:00 AM my phone goes off. I wake up and with sleepy eyes gloss over the screen of my cell while hanging out of the bed. I can barely make out the numbers but they look like my parents' house number. I picked up the phone.

"Hello?" I attempted to force myself awake but sitting all the way up and rubbing my free hand against my eyes.

"Em, your father is missing," came the clear, yet shaking voice of my Mom.

"What the f$%k?" was the first thing that came out of my mouth. I was wide awake now. "What are you talking about, Mom?"

"Your father is gone, he's missing. I called over at the hospital just two minutes ago and the nurses station said he was discharged at 4:20 AM this morning. But he never came home," came my mother's voice from the other side of the line. It came over with an eerie calmness, the kind that let you know that she hadn't let the news sink in yet - but that she was overwhelmed enough to know she needed someone to talk to.

"Well, wait - he never called you or anything? He couldn't have left the hospital by himself," my mind was racing to try to find some logical explanation as I tried to stay calm for my mother's sake.

"No...he never called. He never said anything. In fact, I had talked to him right before I left you that voice message last night and he said he was going to have to stay overnight there to try to get the kidney stone out. That was the last I heard of him. I don't know what else to do," she said.

"Have you called C?" C is my oldest brother whose a cop in Harford County.

"No but I am going to, he'll know what to do about these things." My Mom is the kind of person who thinks that a person's occupation makes them the Einstein-know-it-all of anything and everything related to that occupation. Since my brother is a cop, my mother felt that there had to have been some special "way" of talking to police officers for missing persons, so she enlisted my brother's "expertise".

Two minutes later, I get another call.

"C is out calling the police, looking for your father," she said.

"That's great. They'll find him, I know they will Mom."

"...I think he might have committed suicide."

I didn't know what to say. I don't even know whether I was quite awake enough right before she said it - but I certainly fully awake after it was said. I had been so calm, so collected just several miliseconds before and now, in an instant, I felt the lump of fear clump itself into the back of my throat, forcing me to forget to breathe and let all the effort of breathing go into creating hot stingy tears that wasted no time occupying my eyes.

"I really think that's what he did," she said, "He's been just so happy recently. Even your sister has noticed."

I couldn't tell you what I thought of that comment because I was too caught on what she had said prior to that. Suicide? My Dad had been extremely happy recently - but I figured it was due to what he kept saying - that he had finally found a decent medication that helped to keep a constant and steady control on his once fluctuating moods. He didn't feel so up and so down anymore. He felt like he had a better control over his daily situations that would have normally caught him in a frenzy in the past. I had been so happy for him - why couldn't she be? Why did that have to be a "sign" that he would take his life?

And suddenly, like a flashback from a movie, I was taken back to middle school, and even just two years ago. Saw the vision of my father collapsing onto his knees in the bedroom, my mother standing over him with a menacing glare, his body so limp, so lifeless...and then the look on his face - so incredibly draining just to look at the expression on his face. I remember feeling my heart sink into the pit of my stomach to the point that I felt the thump as it hit the inner foremost wall of my stomach cavity. And yet even with my belly full, I felt so empty and helpless at the sight of my father so weak like that. Weak beyond anything anyone should ever feel at anytime. I could hear his voice just as I did two years ago, "I can't do this anymore...I can't do this anymore. I just don't want to live anymore..."

I choked back the tears and caught myself from sinking deeper into the past.

"No, Mom. He was fine, he is fine. He was so happy the last time I saw him. We'll find him. I am coming home now. Just relax. Do not scare the kids," I said, pulling the covers off and stepping into the chill of the guest room.

That man who was the man I saw two years ago was not the same man I saw a few days ago singing along to Carrie Underwood on the radio, I kept thinking.

Despite my best efforts, once I hung up the phone with my Mom I felt the tears start to flow and just let them flow. If there is anything that I have learned in the past few months it is to let the emotions I have out when I have them - holding them in is only going to prolong and worsen the pain later on.

I text J, a little freaked out still. J agreed with me - that my Dad would be found, that he wouldn't do something like that, and that my Mom was probably just overreacting as always. For Dad's sake, I hoped to God she was just being overdramatic like always.

I woke up Gen-gen and he took me over to my parents' house, all the way supporting me as I kept talking out loud to myself about my parents, about how much they have always been flitty in the past but no matter what, even if it was against my better judgement, I was always there for them. I have always been there when they needed me...even if it wasn't reciprocated.

We drove up to my parents' house and Gen-gen offered to come in with me but I told him that he didn't have to worry about it - and could just go home and get some rest for the both of us. As we were pulling into the neighborhood, we past a police car exiting as we were entering.

Once I got to the front door, my brother called me to tell me they had found him. He was already at the house down in the basement, and my Mom was sitting in the kitchen.

I suddenly let out a deep breath. It felt like I had been holding my breath that entire time and just at that moment had finally let it all out.

Standing in that kitchen, I stood there looking from my Mom, to my older brother, and then all around at my little brothers and my younger sister and realized then that sometimes it's tragedy that brings us back to reality.

As the police escort arrived to at the front door, I didn't hesitate in giving my Dad the biggest never-ending hug I had ever given him, never wanting to let go.

My Life as G.I. Jane

I shaved my head on Saturday morning/Friday night. It was one of the most exhilarating things I have done thus far in this past year, so exhilarating that even I was surprised at what an impact it has had on me.

I know that if I had waited to cut it any longer that I probably wouldn't have - or at least I would have put up a good fight. But the fact that it was 3:30 AM or so, and J and I had just gotten home from Fur, and the fact that I was feeling particularly "happy", he just caught me like a deer in headlights.

No sooner had I taken off my "club clothes" and hopped into my PJs was J romping into my room and grabbing his duffel bag.

"You want to cut your hair now?" he asked, holding the bag for his razor in one hand and standing there in my doorway, giving me the look that said he was asking, but knowing full well he was going to cut it anyway regardless of my answer.

"Now? Like, right now?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's best anyways. You can take a shower afterwards since you've been out all night, and then it'll be easier to clean up the hair."

An exasperated sigh ensued, "Okay, I guess you're right."

No sooner had I said okay, J was in the bathroom unzipping and making a lot of racket.

By the time I walked into the hallway and towards the bathroom door, he already had his hair trimmer plugged in and ready to go, all set up nice and neat like a mini barber shop.

He opened up the toilet seat and had me hang my head over the bowl, and I stared at the clear toilet water with suspense as I heard the constant buzz of the hair trimmer in his hand once he clicked it on.

And then it was done. I remember standing up and staring into the bathroom mirror, rubbing my hand over the top, and turning my head left and right to admire his handywork.

Since I have been "G.I. Jane-d" it is like a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I have found this sense of freedom that I never thought imaginable. Weird, I know - that it would all come from just shaving a bit of hair off, but truly, honestly, it really has opened up this whole new source of positive energy for me.

I guess I never realized (until I shaved it off) how much the remnants of my "old" hair was really weighing me down. It was forcing me to be critical of myself, and forcing me to be judgmental because every time I looked in the mirror, those pieces were a constant reminder of what I used to have.

Plus, the long hair in those random areas matched with the patches of Chia-pet fuzz (that's what I call the little baby hairs that are slowly growing in my bald spots) everywhere was just daunting to look at.

And what's awesome about this haircut? 15-minute showers. 10 minutes to get dressed. I love it. No fuss with the hair, no curling irons, no blow dryers. Me, my fuzzball of a head and a nice outfit. Boom. Done.

Things that I should do

What I should do: Be worried about reading my Chemistry text for tonight's class because last class I was absolutely useless and didn't pay attention to half of the lecture.

What I'm doing instead: Writing in this blog. I should have read last night but I was actually sleeping since I got that bout of a bad case of diarrhea (yeah, I don't care, I'll tell you... I don't think it's that disgusting - it's just something you get sometimes)

What I should do: Concentrate on this Chemistry Text and even attempt to concentrate on the homework that is due next week

What I'm doing instead: Wondering why we have to play these stupid games - even with people that we love. I thought that it all ends once you find that person that you feel you can talk to about anything - but I've learned that that only goes so far as the other person's receptiveness. If they don't want to receive it - then you're stuck holding the bag. It sucks, because I should be thinking about school, about how I am paying my bills this month (because I forgot whether this week is pay week or not - and I am hoping it is because rent is due!), or about whether or not I should just jump headfirst into buying this car this weekend, and try and worry about setting up for a car insurance quote. But --- I am thinking about how much I miss a certain person, and why do I miss them so much when I just saw them last week? How much despite everything that I keep telling myself, there is a tinge of weakness inside that is making me weary - I want to know things I know I shouldn't want to know, things that aren't my right to know anymore...I gave up the right a long time ago. I want to tell that person how much I miss them, without a weird look in reponse, or even worse: no response at all. I text them this morning, telling them how gorgeous the weather was (which surprisingly, gorgeous weather recently depresses me because I have no means of enjoying it. I am stuck indoors with no ride to anywhere where I could enjoy it, unless I hop on the train to DC and just ride the Metro all day. Which, btw, I have been contemplating and if this week really IS pay week then I think I owe Latoya a visit!) and how much I wish that I could see them this weekend - maybe a picnic? Maybe sitting at a table at Panera Bread for an hour - maybe something. Just something. It's terrible when there is one single person you'd want to spend your time with - the only problem is whether or not they'd want to spend their time with you.

I shouldn't be so glum. I know it's all very melodramatic, but hell, that's what this blog is for. To get all that grit out of my head. To write it all down - and to feel better.

Technically, I did get an invite to the APA Film Festival in DC this weekend. Anyone interested in going? Email me. I am wanting to go but I'd rather go with company than by myself like a ...well, like a dork.

Back to reading that Chem book...

I finally put on make-up today...

and it's all for the benefit of a 1-year old. A cute 1-year old at that. TL has decided to let me spend the day with her "big sloppy puppy". I actually can't wait.

I know it sounds silly that I put on make-up...but I guess it's not just for Ryder-bear. It is really for me. To get my ass out of bed and into a more focused, positive mood. Especially when I'll be surrounded by an energetic little boy all day. I am excited and I am sure that Ryder will keep me on my toes which is just what I can't wait for.

There is an article that I was reading last night that I had been given the link to through this other yahoo group that I am a member of for Korean Adoptees (K@W).

"Do Parents Feel Differently About Their Adoptive Children Than Their Offspring?"- from the New York Mag. It took me about an hour to read it (because there were some paragraphs that were so appalling to me that I had to read them twice) but when I finally finished, I was left with this horrid, bitter taste in my mouth. I felt like I had just been fed a full-course meal of total bullshit. And I wanted a refund for that hour.

I want to write more on this article and critically piece it apart to figure out why exactly I didn't like it. It would be much easier for me to piece it as a whole and brand it with my seal of "Don't Read This Trash!" and be done with it. But this piece seemed to have been written with care (albiet hard to believe that it was) by the writer, and thus, I feel that I should take the time and care to analyze why I didn't like it.

I've been working on it some this morning, rereading some sections and really trying disect what it was that disturbed me so much. Was it the constant reminder of the Bradgelina adoption frenzy? Was it the mention of Madonna's baby boy? Was it the breakdown of how other people viewed their adoptions? Or was it because everything stated in that article was the horrible and utter truth - that the views held and the visions of those who carry forth the act of adoption are wrong -but that sadly everything in that article was true?

I'm not sure. At this time, it's a little bit of everything.

It also prompts me to question what brought this article about? Why all of a sudden are we trying to broaden our thought process as to whether or not parents feel differently about their adoptive children than their offspring?

As an adoptee, I have had my issues. I have had my battles, and I have had the struggles that most adoptees face growing up in America with white parents. I can only hope to shed a light whenever I do seminars or workshops or things like that, into the world of which I have grown to see myself.

For now, I must bid you all ado. I'll think more on this article over the weekend and might just have a nice blog about it by the end of Sunday.

BTW, how priceless is the woman who decided to adopt because God came to her one morning while she was jogging?

Speechless

There is so much that I have had bottled up inside of me, and it's to the point where I am ready to burst.

But when the time comes for me to speak out - will I have every line ready at my command as perfect as they have sounded in my head over and over again or will I end up being speechless?

Only time will tell...

Death to Verizon! (and other random things)

I hate...no, no...I loathe Verizon Wireless. I have had this VCAST LGV8100 only since November and already it broke - it just completely copped out on me. Won't even let me charge it. And although I do have insurance on the phone - I feel it's a lost cause to spend $50.00 to get the same crappy ass phone sent to me so it can break yet again for the THIRD time in just five months. Yes, third time. Oh, and yes, just five months.

I am not rough with my phone, to assure you. It sits nestled safely in my purse for 95.9% of the time. And for good reason, for in the past two years - I have demoted my cell phone time to answering calls from my parents, and random text messages that I rarely ever get to answer. And even so much in the last few months - have left the ringer to silent due to always seeming to being at work. Thus, no real extensive usage has been brought to my phone to force its submission to technical difficulties. Especially ones that involve the smaller metal piece (it probably has a technical term but one that I have failed to recognize...personally, I don't give half a rat's ass because either way this phone is the biggest piece of crap on the planet) that is at the bottom of the phone to help it receive the charge from the electrical charger. The piece just slips out of the phone like it wasn't even fastened properly to begin with. Which is probably wasn't. Piece of shit. Grrr...so now I either have to go to the store to get a new phone...and sign a new 2 year contract or buy a new phone at full price without the contract, or send the phone back for $50.00 to my insurance company to get a new replacement.

As I have already covered the replacement option's negative aspects above, this is how the others fair:

1. New 2-year contract w/ new phone: Yeah...uh...how 'bout Hellllllll DOUBLE no. Anyone who knows me has heard me say over and over again "I can't wait till June, I'm switching to Cingular. Can't wait till June..." That's when my contract is up. Did I mention I cannnnnnot wait?

2. Buy a new phone at full price: Seeing as my cheap and college loan-ridden ass cannot bear to pay the early cancellation fee, this is a no brainer. Absolutely no way will there be anyone seeing me in a Verizon store in the near future dishing out $87.00 for a basic new phone.

Oh, and another thing - I have a VCAST mp3 player phone...that I haven't used VCAST on for a year and a half. Because why? Oh yeah...it SUCKS. Thus, there might be a slight possibility that I might be phone-less for the next three months for the sake of either being broke or cheap. Or slightly both.

Onto more happy issues:

Did I ever mention I got a 99% on my midterm? Freakin' awesome surprise that was.

This past weekend I went to a surprise baby shower for A.B.'s sixth edition(& addition) to the Bunch. It was super sweet and she was super surprised. No one really thought she would be, but when she came over and grabbed my arm and was slightly nervously shaking, well, no one could fake surprise that well. So yay to that very adult 12-year old for pulling that party together! It was ultimately a great success.

As a side note, what is up with these 12-year olds? At one point in the party, there was this Ralph Lauren purse that was ringing and Kish brought it out to find whose it was. To which this short-skirt wearing, tight top-wearing teeny bopper replies "oh, yeah...thanks!"

A cell phone? Whose calling you? And a Ralph Lauren purse? Whaaa?

Hehe, my Amusement Award goes to TL for her immediate question: "Is it a real one or one of those five-digit kind?"

Which by the way...

CONGRATULATIONS TL!!!!!!

To reiterate my excitement: I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!

Besides that -

Thank God for beautiful weather yesterday. My computer crashed again and I had to go to the library to finish my paper for class. Ugh. But I picked up some awesome CDs...it'll keep me busy and occupied this week.

Happy Monday, people!

-From your neighborhood angry, annoyed-with-Verizon, computer-less, college-broke friend: EJ.

What a weekend!

Aside from the fact that my friends are complete wackos (and I say that in the most endearing sense of the word), they are the best ever.

Had a freakin' awesome time of a weekend, thanks to J, and G. :-) Happy pre-Gotcha Day to meeee!!!!!!!!!