Oh about that...

So today has definitely been any interesting one to say the least.

After talking to Cynthia and Ling yesterday via text about my possible move to NY, I couldn't help but cry all night. I love those two people. We're all different and similar at the same time. I know my move to NY will only distance me more with them. Cyn and Ling already do everything Ling and I use to do when I was back home. Before I wasn't miles up miles away. Somehow the distance has served to make ling and me distant. I'm not the person she shares things with. There's very little text, calls, etc. I guess I miss being that "it" friend. It's ridiculous I know. I love Cynthia very much. She's one of my best friends. I mean who could blame Ling for being close with her. I just wish I didn't feel so left behind. But that's part of life. People need things...need people. And sometimes those people aren't exactly you. If only memories could not only be captured, but held. I know sometimes I feel like If I could hold on to them...I'd never let go.


Bad? tragic? or both?


I don't know the answer. Maybe the answer isn't an easy one. Too bad cause I could definitely use a nice mug of hot coco and a "it's all better now" moment. Figured it wouldn't be that simple. What do you expect. Life is definitely interesting.

Oh but the Future...

As I get closer to graduation, so does the idea of what comes ahead. It seems eveyone is thinking about where they're heading to. Some are planning to go to New York, others are staying in Chicago, while the rest are scattered across the country.

So many options and so many decisions. I feel like I've arrived at some crossroad, where it's my turn to choose which path I will follow. I would love to say that at this very moment I'm jumping for joy, awaiting for the next big thing with open arms. But frankly, I'm a bit terrified.


Where do I go from here? What path should I follow? Simple Questions...but tough ones to answer.


Two of my friends here in Chicago are on the move--looking for apartments in Ny. They even set to head off there in two weeks to check them out. They asked me before, if I was considering NY...possibly get a four-bedroom apt. But being me, I've stalled.

NY is the right choice for my career. But my family and friends are in California. I miss them every second I'm here in Chicago. I know I know. There will come a day, where I'll have to make a decision based on what's best for me.



I wish I'd known they'd had plans to head out to NY to see apartments and whatnot. But atlast, how would they have known my stalling was just my slow way of pondering over things.


As of now, the future is a big cloud of I don't know...

Life isn't easy...

Never expect life to be easy! If it was we'd all be unchanged and unmotivated--completely static-- to be anything but what we already are.

I'm a big believer on always improving one's self without losing the touch of reality and sense of "present". What I mean is that with everything there's a balance. You can't live in the moment expecting it to last forever. Maybe you'll invent a time machine or get a 3 wishes from a genie to go back to those moments of bliss. But for now, time leaves no one behind.

However, always looking for some magic eraser to take away our flaws without accepting them as definitions of who we are is like seeking some elusive mirage in the desert. It's easy get caught on trying to put out better copies of ourselves, but we forget that quality is far better than quantity.

That's the kind of motto I want to base my life on...

I want to wake up each morning with the zest of life ringing in my ears and heart. To know that no matter the fastballs life throws at me, I'll continue to cherish each and every day.


Slowly the fragments of the girl I use to know are coming back. The girl who was quiet and observant, gazed at stars and the moon, involved in her friends' every day lives, said a prayer before bed, made meals without a recipe, had laugh attacks on occasions, enjoyed the sweet harmony of words and pages, read a book a day, called her parents two times a day. A girl who loved life.

Yes that girl is coming back, blossoming again. And I have the patience of God and life lessons to thank.

Love's complicated Woes...

Despite the fact that February is long gone and with it...Valentine's Day, there's a buzzing of romance, a smell of love in the air. The kind that will lead to sweet bliss or heartbreak.


Love takes on many forms, whether it's complicated romance, unrequited or soul-finding. Everyone has been in love or had a crush at one point in their lives. Some started out in hallways and lunch breaks. Others in summer vacations and lecture halls. The point is that we've all felt the sweetness of a kiss (chaste or unchaste) and the soul wretching goodbyes.

There really isn't words that can heal the pain. But, what I can say is that one day as we look out our window or we wake up from our beds, the pain will cease to hurt.

I leave you with my facebook status:

you realize that shaggy and scooby are perfect together and your broken heart is not shattering , but healing. :)

A semi-sweet return

You don't understand what it means to type this blog. Has a year gone by? No? It feels like it. I feel speechless. It's as if words have compiled within me and now that I can usher them out...I find myself flabbergasted--unable to pour out everything I've wanted to say and write.

If you were to ask me how this quarter is going, I would have to say, "Let me think about it."

Because I have no idea how I truly feel about this quarter. I loved second quarter because for once I felt like a reporter--gaining experience--unlike this quarter where once again I am Jennifer, the student.

Don't get me wrong, I love to learn. But, there comes a point where you don't want to just read about it in the books. You want to get your hands dirty.


I've been so frustrated recently. Almost bent out of shape and unwilling to see the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (yes it's my analogy). I use to enjoy life with gusto, but now I feel like I'm just surviving.

Whatever happen to the girl who just wanted to write? I don't know where she went. All I know is that she's still there...right at the surface hoping for her chance. I can tell because my fingers itch for words. I'm like the weary traveler thirsting for a glass of water. I crave the tension between my brows as I try to come up with another scene in my book or the sense of accomplishment when I've posted another post on my blog. To write, what a life worth living.


I need to get back to who I am. I am a girl. A writer. A living, breathing wonder.

Changes and Realizations...

It seems like a year ago that I sat down and typed a post. I'm sure I could say that it was the countless hours spent on hundreds of emails to potential interviewers or any other excuses. But, the simple fact is that I haven't felt that burning inkling to write about anything (at least nothing on my blog).

But, today as I'm waiting for my digital storytelling class to start, I find myself navigating to my blog and to that blank text box. Even the keyboards, all soiled and shiny, beckon me on.

What's new?

Everything and Nothing?


The major one is that I've slowly started eating meat again. After 2 months of being a loyal vegetarian...I've resorted back to my old ways. Not that there is any difficulties (at least nothing major) in being one, but I think the reasons we're all wrong.

I care about animals. Some would call me a hypocrite for consuming them. And all I could say is that I am. It's sad, but I am. I love animals, but I still eat them. The mentality is skewed. Trust me, no one knows it more than me. It really has nothing to do with free will or lack of restraint, but more to the reasons behind it. I think vegetarians and vegans are truly committed people. It's not easy to always be different. To stand up for what you believe and live your life on the basis of that principle. I salute them.

Unfortunately, I do not join the ranks. Maybe in the future I will be ready to shift. Maybe principle not motions will drive me.


As for the newsroom. It's great. stressful, but wonderful at the same time. I have my own desk, phone, and folders. You know you've hit it big when you have all three. There's something motivating about the newsroom that makes all the stressful, doubtful days spent before worth it.


I've also moved to another room (7th floor). It's still new so I'm still getting the hang of everything. Luckily, I got some good friends on the same floor. So I'm thinking that I'm up for some very fun and interesting moments (like watching Mulan with some potato salad and ketchup popcorn).


Today as I was walking to the L train, the wind was blowing. The feeling was so wonderful. The music on my ipod was rich and soulful. I even put my hand out to touch the wind. It felt so good to feel so carefree. To see the beauty of it all.


Life is good for the most part. If we can't enjoy our own lives...who will?

Wordle

love
hope
dreams
honduras
california
friends
family
pets
journalist
writer
books
faith
inspiration
determination
fear
God
words
expression
art
music
dancing
singing
internet
blog
milkshakes
sunsets
mountains
flowers
self-actualization
green
lord of the rings
jane austen
poetry
movies
reflection
insecurities
yeilding
waiting
life
bloom
salvation
future
past
present
living
admire
respect
honesty
rebirth
hearts
skies
suns
meadows

An adventure in solitudeland...

So tomorrow I'm going to be out all day. Who knows what I'll do. Maybe I'll take the bus to target and look around every aisle. Or ride the L to magnificent mile...or visit the zoo again. Or..or..or.

I just need to be out in open air and shed away all the gloom and rules around me. I'll update this post with what I ended up doing.


For now I say adieu

Back to Chicagoland...

So I'm back after a week of pure happiness and relaxation in good old sunny California.

Just thinking about home makes me sad. Spending time with my parents and friends this past week makes my return a hard thing to do. I didn't realize how much I wanted...no NEEDED to see my parents and friends. To hear them. To talk to them. To be with them.

But, a good part of me is happy to be back. To restart the new chapter in my life. I also missed my friends here...I miss their personalities, jokes, conversations, etc. This quarter should hold some very exciting things in store for me. So I'm happy to be back to the role of aspiring journalist.


I really should go out to a movie tonight..try to dust off the homesick blues away. It's bad to start the quarter with a gloomy attitude.

Can I just say that my room seems bigger. I don't know why...but it does. lol. But, ask me that tomorrow...I'm sure I'll be heading down to the office demanding for a one bedroom apartment. nah. I need to save.


Wow it's only been four paragraphs and I already feel better. Words..they're powerful things.



well I should search some movie listings before I turn lazy and decide to stay inside.


p.s

sorry for the randomness. My mind is in the clouds. My heart is in California.

The almost end of a quarter...

It seems like a week ago when I went to that first day of orientation, but at the same time, I feel like it's been a century since I last saw my family and friends back home.


I can't look back and regret the decision of coming to Northwestern. I simply cannot. Yes it's been times when I've come close (very close) to calling quits. But, a word, a smile, a laugh, a "good job" keeps me going. Adding sparks to my dim fire.


Beat reporting has definitely been interesting and overwhelming for me, but rewarding. In part, I have learned so much on a topic that has been dear to my heart. I feel like I appreciate the beauty of nature and how important it is to really take care of it. "Don't destroy it, protect it". That's such a great motto.


I can't believe the first quarter is ending. I've been counting the days and hours for the day when I can walk out of Fisk Hall and yell on the top of my lungs: FREEDOM!

Freedom sounds delicious like that smooth melting truffle in your mouth, slowly taking you to that uncharted paradise meant only for you.


Life in Evanston/Illinois has been good to me. We've had our good and bad moments together. But, through these moments, I've learned so much about others and myself.


I learned that you just got to be yourself as much as possible. People will either like you or not like you. Why not just be yourself. You can't please everybody. Maybe we weren't meant to please everyone. Yes we're meant to be good to each other and be there for each other. But, do we have to lose ourselves in the process. No I don't think so.


I don't want to lose who I am. I'm a wallflower, calm (for the most part), helpful, loving, serious, weird and quirky girl. I use to want to be that popular girl. You know that one that everyone wanted to hangout with because you know they were cool. Sometimes that fantasy lingers for a small moment, but after the moment is gone, I realize that I'm not. I'll always be a little to shy and reserve for some people. I'll be a little too strange for others. I'll be a little too much of something. But, I believe that if you're lucky...you'll find people who can appreciate the differences without diminishing them.


I've heard this over and over: Jenn you're observant aren't you? My answer to that is yes. It's a trait I've tried to harness as much as possible. I'm constantly at the margins of conversations and activity because my eyes and ears are everywhere. Most times, I feel like there's really no use in me contributing to a conversation when it seems like it's going well without my feedback. But, I absolutely love watching people converse. I love how they tell a story and why they tell it. How they sigh in one part, and shrug in another. There's so much that you can learn by observing people.


It's also nice to help people. I've always felt this compelling need to help people. Whether it's a smile or a small gift. I just need to do it. It's fundamental.

Recently, I went to a small Mexican restaurant because I was craving some good old' Mexican food. The place was pretty good. First Mexican restaurant I've been to that makes their chips with flour tortilla instead of traditional corn tortillas. I was there by myself. I usually don't mind eating alone. But, there were all these groups with families and couples laughing and enjoying life. Adding to the ambiance was a man singing old traditional Latin songs. There was one...I don't remember the title that I use to hear my parents play all the time. Almost instantly, I felt tears gather, as I picked up my horchata. I had to get out of that place as soon as possible. I must have scared the waiters there since I paid my bill and almost sprinted out of that place. Of course I had leftovers since my mood had stopped me from enjoying my food. But here I am with a to go box and a dim mood at hand walking to the L stop. When I get to the platform, a nice homeless man jokes, "oh you brought me dinner". I immediately offer it to him. I really don't need the food. Who knows how long this man has eaten a decent meal. Here I am with my irrational mood, when this man is jolly and full of life as can be.

If anything I got from that event is that life is never easy. It never pans out exactly like you want, but you know what? Others have it worse than you. You got to take it and run with it. Life will pour out obstacles, but the key is not to let them conquer you.

A Blazing hearth all alone.

There is something about Fridays that depress me. They should be reliefs from long hours of research and reporting. But, in my case, they're just reminders of some illusion I keep foolishly believing I have.

In two weeks or more I shall head home. Home, that one word that represents joy, laughter, and imperfections. That one word sends me to some fruitful haven in my mind, heart and soul where I am free and complete.

It may be hard to believe, but I do like it here. It's just that I feel myself trying and trying. Constantly moving and moving. Always in motion. Never comfortable. Nunca acceptada.

My friends back home keep wondering when they'll see me. They've even plan the day. Signed the T's. I think it's one of the hard things about living so far from home (besides my parents) is not being with them. I know exactly my place and footing with them. I can be stark crazy, dead serious or simply philosophical.

I don't have awkward silences with them. I use to have a sense of humor and knew how to use it for crying out loud. If my friends saw me now they'd think I'd gone absolutely bonkers.


Focus on my stories and finals. That's exactly what needs to be on my mind. You came here to be a better writer. Go back to observation mode. Remember you we're meant for margins not front pages.


I feel like a broken record. I should pop in Rush Hour 3 and let the fun team take it away.



-One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul, and yet no one ever comes to sit by it.
Vincent Van Gogh

Home is where the heart is...

A nice man I interviewed asked me if I would ever stay in Evanston. The answer is a definite no. I mean Evanston is a nice city and definitely more environmentally conscious than my hometown Pasadena. But, it's not home.

My little white house with blue borders is not a block away--waiting for me with its big amazon trees and yellow grass. I can't open the door with my "special" key, and find my mom switching back and forth from her Brazilian telenovelas (soap operas) and the Central America news channel. Nor can I see my dad sitting in his one-of-a-kind chair, watching the lakers shoot some three point shots or reruns of two and a half men.


I'm a family girl. I've always had a bestfriend relationship with my parents. Even when we've had our disagreements, we've quickly made up and moved on. It's what we the Luna family do. So I need to be close to my parents, whether talking to them on the phone or hanging out with them. I know some people my age don't feel the need be constantly with their parents, but I do. I'm that kid that webcams with her parents about how ther week went on a weekly basis.



But, I love it here. I continue to have conversations with my classmates, interviewees, etc, that open my eyes to new things--things I'd never thought about before.


Some have commented on my quietness/observative nature. It's been something I've been known for. I think being picked by bullies in middle school forced me to be aware of the small details. To pay attention to the tell-bits that might say I'm ok on the surface, but the subtext says I need someone to listen.

I remember a particular day that will always be engraved in my mind. It was during recess, and we'd just finished eating our snacks, my role as a kicking bag began. And with that came all the taunting names children say.

But, that day was different. The voice of my guardian or so I called the young man who came to my rescue like some knight right out of a fairytale. I remember feeling at that moment that someone there finally took the time to look deeper. I will always remember that man, even when his face fades through time, his kindness will always be a driving force for me to always pay attention to the needs of those who get over looked.

So if I can pay the kindness forward by giving a compliment, a smile, or help to someone else than I've lived a good life.

What is emotion?

Have you ever wondered what is emotion? It's a feeling...happy, sad, etc. But, why do we experience them? What are their purpose in our lives?


The answer is....I don't know.


I use to think that it was something fundamental in our every day lives. In fact, I believed so about 2 hrs ago.


Have you ever had one of those rushes? You know one of those that you get as you get out of bed ready to take on whatever life throws your way. That's exactly what I felt when I got dressed, brushed my teeth and headed off to 7 eleven for some soda shopping. I was so jolly, I even decided to get into this happy-go-lucky valentine's mood. I did so by heading to CVS where I bought lollipop bouquets for everyone. Let's just say that I was CVS favorite morning customer today.


The mood continued the whole day. I mean I was calm and confident (as confident as I'll ever be capable)--I had the world at my finger tips...or at least my mind thought so. Nothing could go wrong. Everything was fitting into place like that perfect piece of the puzzle you've been trying to finish for 2 weeks now.


The thing with rushes is that your feet must touch ground. And usually when you touch ground you end with a THUMP.


I think the moment where it went all downhill was after my haircut. It's silly to say that the haircut was the cause or any other illogical reason. No this stems from within me. But, if you'd ask me what was going on, I'd be flabbergasted. Completely and utterly useless in trying to give you some resemblance of a decent answer.


My room suffocated me when I got back. Like 4 cell walls caving in. No grip to stay afloat. Just endless nothingness that seems pointless at best. So in my attempt to get some air, I went to see Up in the air.

Maybe I should have gone for something easy on the mind and soul. But, I've never shied away from soul-searching moments in my life. Plus, I don't think me watching some random comical film will vanish the thoughts or feelings in my head.


All I want to do is rest. Not think, feel or do anything. To lie there in my bed with my shallow pillow and slowly drift to some world where everything is so simply. No complexions...no tangles...or webs.


What is an emotion? I have no utter clue. All I know is that I wish I was done with that whole business.


Here's a toast to another wasted blog space about a girl that whines about how her life is so bad when there is millions who would gladly take her spot.

Beat Beat Beat some more...

So we got our beats...^drum roll^ Environment. Of course I wanted another beat, but this was my second choice, and for the most part I am happy. There should be plenty of good stories here in Evanston and Wilmette.


All this journalism stuff (wow my vocabulary has shrunk since last February) has really rocked and shocked my shyness off its limits. I never knew I could approach random people for interviews, comments, etc. While frightening as it is, my poor nerves have definitely improved. But, I wouldn't say I'm the next social butterfly to grace Evanston. HA! The moment I said social butterfly, I just started rolling with the LOLs.


I really think I lucked out on the friends department. Everyone in my methods class is amazing. No I'm not exaggerating. And no I'm not being typical positive Jenn. They really are. I swear everyone in that class is hilarious. They all march to the beat of their own drum. I love that about them.


Everyone in my methods class is genuinely good people. Of course they're not perfect, heck no one is. We all have our glitches, moods, etc. Honestly, sometimes those small things add dimension to us. But, no really they surprise (good surprise) me every time. Take for example Brianna or who I endearingly call her Miss Sunshine. On that day that Jordan and I had a pull-your-hair-off day, we randomly caught up with Brianna and Kelsey. Of course I never bring gloves, especially when it's freezing outside. Intelligence just flows from me. Well anyway, she noticed my non-glove (is that a word?) hands and gave me hers. Just like that. I already had her on my top list of amazing people. But, I was deeply touched by her thoughtfulness. That is not even a sufficient word for her act of kindness. There are many other people who have made me feel warm and welcome. And I deeply appreciate that.


It's moments, even if just seconds, that really reinforces the view that most people are essentially good. Many would call me idealist, naive or just plain stupid. But I'm sorry, I'm those kinds of people that believe the glass half full. I just believe that if I lose faith in people than there really is no hope for the world. And everything I've done or wanted to do is to make some change in this world. So again, call me an idealist or a peace-loving-hillbilly, but you know what...so what! I am a tree-hugging-love-everybody kind of girl. And I'm ok with that.

What am I doing here?

I seem to be turning the water works on full blast. stupid tears. It's really rediculous that I'm being so melodramatic. Tears don't help at all.


Today has to be the breaking point for me. My fried brain, heart and soul can't bear it anymore. What little hope I had has just withered away.


After a full day of unsuccessful attempts to get 4 video interviews, I'm worn down to the point where I care too much, but shouldn't.


I miss my family, and my friends. I miss my blanket of security. I have nothing like that here. I have friends. But, I can't just knock on their door and shed my tears and vent freely away.


I sound so depressing and so melodramatic, which I hate. It's like come on jennifer grow up. Life is never easy so take that illusion from your brain.


Calling my parents was a bad thing. All I did was cry for the most part. Great now I'm worrying people I love because I'm having a crisis of some sort.



Sometimes I wonder if it's just best to pack up my things, catch a taxi to the airport and head back to California. I mean what am I doing here? It's like I'm batting zero here.


I need my sanity back. I need to retain some smidge of who I am as a person and as a writer. Because I feel like I'm losing both.

Just a poem

I was empty out my UCI email and found the poem I wrote for my Afro-Latin American Music class in 09. It's nothing exceptional, but for the sake of collection...I'll archive it here.

The Rise of the Punta

We come from the roots of West Africa

to the shores of Central America.

We carry with us the dialect of Igñeri and

the ancient rhythms of Bunda.

It is in the Africanized name Garinagu

that we the Garifuna people proudly rise.

But in our blood we too hold

the legacy of Amerindian, Arawak and Carib.

Forced from the island of St. Vincent,

Our people did escape

the colonialism of the White Man's tyranny.

It is our expatriation that gave us the fuel,

to withhold the turbulent pacific.

So like our ancestors,

enslaved and uprooted from their homes,

we pulled forth in dignity to make roots

from the coastal lines of Honduras to Belize.

In these countries, our new countries

we have brought the Banguity

But you may know it as the Punta.

Through this rhythmic contexture,

we express the anguish, love, and resilience of centuries.

When our Gubida clamors and reveals himself,

our drums do summon the dead to rest,

Saying a final Ayaú to the physical world they go.

But, do not forget that the Punta is not only for wakes.

It too is the dance between man and woman.

With one gradual movement of our hips

from side to side,

we like the cock and hen, begin the dance.

Our movements progress with rapid cadence.

Faster and faster our hips do sway,

urging for the defeat of our contra part.

The drums become our canvas,

the maracas and conch shells our paint.

Together they color the richness of this sensuous dance.

But like changing seasons,

young Garinagus looked towards the North.

Leaving our culture abandoned like old relics,

waiting and waiting for their return.

At last!

Never do our young Garinagus forget

the Punta that moves their soul.

And from buried old relics,

their Garifuna feet did rise to the beat of a new drum.

So from this new spirit, a new form arose.

The fusion of old and new did Cayetano proclaim,

the birth of Punta rock.

On the fateful Moho street, the Turtle Shell Band did create.

Amalgamating our ancient Punta beats with exotic percussions.

And till this day their legacy

is heard from the corners of Trujillo

to the cities of Los Angeles and New York.

In the footsteps of this great Pioneer,

Palacio did follow like many others.

Mixing soca, salsa, reggae, and hip-hip

to our old Garifuna tunes.

So like a wild fire, this master form spreads,

catching ears, feet and hips on fire.

Even gueros in their boots can’t stop

the rhythm of their hips from left to right.

For in the coastal lines of Central America to the land of liberty,

we can hear the pilgrimage of our Garinagu

in the lively tune of Banda Blanca’s “Sopa de Caracol”.

Life is Grand...

I've been pondering for a while on Life and all its complexities. Yes I grunt and complain about my misgivings, but if given the opportunity to live a different life...well I wouldn't budge. Not for the life of me would I change the experiences, pains and joys I've gone through. They have become uniquely my own. I say this all because there are times (I'm sure most people feel this way) when I wonder if I'm making some small difference in this world whether by my presence, words or encouragement. However, I don't realize that I waste precious energy and time questioning such things.

Is it not enough to make up with air in my lungs? Is it not enough to have a good education? To have warm food and clothes? To have a loving family and dear friends to call your own?

Somehow over the past weeks here at Northwestern, I've forgotten how much I should be thankful and appreciative about the life I lead. It's easy to get caught up in the effects of stress. But, if I've acquired any philosophical principle is that I never want to live a life of regret.

I've seen people who live their entire lives searching for some ghost of a memory that leaves them at the end of the day, less happy.

One of my favorite books is Tuesdays with Morrie. I remember picking it up when I was younger and immediately falling in love. It taught me to appreciate every second life gives me. It might sound morbid, but you just never know when you'll be here on earth. I want to be those individuals who see, taste, smell and touch everything life brings to their doorstep.

SO if you paint...PAINT PASSIONATELY. If you laugh...LAUGH HARDER. If you sing...SING TO THE CLOUDS ABOVE. And keep living living living.

First one out of the park...

Well I've decided to make another blog. How many blogs is that....101? lol.


I really just wanted to carve this little piece of cyberspace for Chicago/MSJ. Not to say that I will focus solely on those two areas. Life is Life...it's interwoven.


Anyways...


So MSJ at Northwestern has been quite an experience to say the very least. There's days when you're close to pulling out your hair or mentally frying your brain because you're sweating over an assignment/interview. But, at the end of the day, you feel like you've stretched your limits in ways that you could not have imagined. That in itself is a feat. Or at least an accomplishment of the sort.


One of the things I've learned about Journalism since I've arrived is that I previously knew zilch to none about whats at the core of this field. Every day I'm learning, learning and learning.


In learning, I've gotten to do some really out-of-character things such as approaching random individuals and getting them to open up about their life story. Believe me, I don't do these things. It takes a good while for me to get use to people and open up.


Naturally I've painfully shy, which is ironic in my field. Yes, I know. It's just who I am. I've always been an observer...you know those people who are deeply engaged in the conversation and body language, but who don't really say much. That is until I really get comfortable. From that point on...boy I can talk.


Speaking of talking, haven't you noticed those moments in our lives where we just instantly connect with another person, while struggling to be comfortable with others?


Take for example my roommate Xin, I instantly bonded with her when we found out that we both love
K-dramas.


Not to say I haven't made friends here...it's just harder to establish a bridge with most of them. I mean these people are all intelligent, outgoing individuals. And than you get me...reserved Jenn. lol.



My nature tends to alienate people, especially if they are polar opposites. It's very interesting and frustrating at the same time. With my friends back in California, I'm comfortable with being outgoing and more talkative. But, something in me shuts off when I'm with new people. It's absolutely dreadful, especially when you can tell that people are wondering if I have a voice at all or whether I'm "fun" to be around.


I wish I had my dad's gift. I call it a gift because I don't possess it at all. Friends and family say I do have it...I've just buried it deep down. HA! I wish I had the gift of being able to break down people's walls no matter their age, race, gender, etc. To make people feel comfortable enough for them to share a little piece of themselves with you. I really feel it's such a privilege when someone tells you their opinions, hobbies, dramas, etc because it means that they looked past your exterior and know at the end of the day that you can be trusted.


I really admire people who are naturally sociable. I really do. Majority of the people here are outgoing. I wish I could be like them.



There's this recent quote I found:

"Learn to... be what you are, and learn to resign with a good grace all that you are not. "

~Henri Frederic Amiel



This really defines it for me.

I have to learn to accept myself completely. And realize that maybe I'll never be social like others are. And maybe I'll lose people this way. But, maybe there will be people who will stick around and wait for me to get to that comfort zone. It's definitely a gamble.



But, I love it here. Despite my limited social graces, I honestly love where I'm at. Yes it's stressful and overwhelming at times, but I'm learning new things, doing new things and meeting new people I could only dream of before.