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| I just bought a tarantula over the weekend. It's pretty ironic that the very first pet I bought for myself is one that I happen to have a phobia for. I asked the pet store employee about buying the most docile of their tarantula collection, which happened to be "Rosie," a rose-haired tarantula. It was difficult to ignore the "bird eating tarantula" staring at me. It's that large one on all covers of tarantula literature I know you read at night. It's enormous size alone gives me the heebie-jeebies. She mentioned that when it spreads it legs out, it's actually larger than the terrarium it's housed in with an unbelievable diameter of 10 inches  I asked her how that spider would fare in a classroom. She didn't recommend it because it has an aggressive nature. Perhaps I should have figured that out given that it eats birds. If that wasn't scary enough, the fact that she told me this spider could stand on its rear legs and push the lid off of its own container led to a very polite, "Hell no. Thank you."  
So "Rosie" now sits in the back of the classroom, accompanied by an impressive decorative display of large, fake spiders (thanks to my brother). The little critter is growing on me and I'm thrilled that the kids don't appear to have the same hyperventilating reactions as I had with spiders at their age. They're learning quite a bit. As I'm teaching the kids different facts about spiders, I'm enjoying learning about them myself. I just found out that the record for a spider not eating and surviving is ONE YEAR!!! If that's not mind-blowing to you, you have no emotion. | | |
| I've been itching for a change in my life...I wasn't aware it would come in the form of a pink slip and a day-of-interview offer from Irvine. It was really difficult for me to accept that I can't randomly have dinner with my girls on a weeknight or drop by Mom & Dad's to take their left overs, but at least teaching hasn't changed. I'm fortunate to be working for a decentralized school district that knows what it's doing. I'm fortunate to work in an environment where the teachers actually grind. The "super teacher" attitude at this school is infectious, and I'm really excited to learn from the whole staff. I guess the nerd in me will never go away. Perhaps all those feel-good quotes have something to it--"when one door closes, another opens up"; "things fall apart so that better things can fall together." It's a refreshing change...but 14 hour days of work have become commonplace. I forget to eat sometimes, and sitting here typing in front of my computer is pretty much my downtime. This is the first time I've actually sat, taken a look at my boxes, and thought of all the changes that seem to have come suddenly from nowhere. So here I am. Welcome to Irvine--home of the cookie-cutter homes, well-manicured lawns, families with 2.5 children, and the only venue for social life--the Spectrum. I can't say it's the most difficult transition coming from the San Fernando Valley, but I can say it's still taking quite a bit of time to get used to the schools without fences and the 5'10 supermodel moms with perfect makeup and designer bags. I was told that I have to dress a bit differently at the new workplace. It was implied that I'm supposed to shop at stores with names people are familiar with because "their clothing lasts longer." Apparently, my little Korean hole-in-the-wall stores make "cheap" clothes. I'm just going to stick with the argument that it really doesn't matter whether you're buying your clothes from Ann Taylor Loft or Fashion Q in SF Valley--they're both "imported" from China. I've been getting a lot of "what are you?"s and "so 'Garcia,' are you married to a Hispanic person?" Even though I was considered a minority in LA, I never felt like one. There was always Pinoy Avenue or any random boba place to let you know that your pseudo-Filipinoness isn't unique. In the OC, I feel like there's blonde and blonder, and everyone (yes, even their mothers) have the prettiest green/blue/hazel eyes. But hey, it's kind of fun being the different one. I can bring my fish lunches to school and it would probably generate some interesting conversation. I do miss all the comforts of my life back "home." I miss having my own place and making turkey tofu or chicken and mushroom dinners. I miss my girls. I miss my "ghetto" kiddos. But I guess this is a new slate. When you've been doing the same swing for several years, it's kind of nice to throw in some tango. Ironically, this new, exciting life is taking place in Irvine (home of all excitement), but I always thought this was a nice place to settle down. To new beginnings... | | |
| Dearest Dad, It seems like a blink ago when you were cooking me breakfast everyday and taking me to the bus stop. I thought it was funny that sometimes you would actually follow the bus to school, but I guess you're right... "you just never know." I remember how I wanted to do everything as a kid and somehow, I was able to do it all because you were right there by my side. When I fell in love with ice skating, you took me every Saturday and "Santa" mysteriously knew to get me those top-of-the-line ice skates. You had to juggle your time between catechism class, swim lessons, piano lessons, and pitching me a softball. You were there for every track meet, camcorder in hand, jumping at the finish line. Without fail, you've watched every jump ball for each one of my high school basketball games whether home or away. I vividly remember you showing me how to get to UCLA. After sending your first three children there, you knew to show me Beverly Glen, Sepulveda, Coldwater Canyon, and some other random Los Angeles street since with accidents and traffic "you just never know." (By the way, that random street route was actually helpful one day.) You said something that stuck in my head as you drove around the campus... "You're going to love it here." Guess what, Dad, you were right! When I had doubts about becoming a teacher, you told me "do what you love," and that was the best decision I ever made in my life. I could always count on you to be a great example of positive thinking. You're the dad who taught me to tell the cashier when I've been given too much change; you're the person who taught me that I "need to think 10 steps ahead"; you're the human dictionary; whenever I need to know the answers to history questions or random old movie trivia, I know who to go to; basically, you're superdad. I am so thankful that after almost 28 years, I still have a dad who never fails to offer his guidance, support, and love. I am SO blessed to be a daughter who knows her father loves her. Thank you for everything you do. Happy Birthday Dad! Love, Cathy | | |
| Love has only been explained to me twice. T.V. taught me that love begins with a goofy look, ends with children, and is only for extremely attractive people; my parents taught me that love is only for people who are finished with college. Obviously, I had a lot of my own learning to do, only I quickly learned that love isn't something that is taught; it's experienced.
I think most people who have been fortunate to experience love have learned that love comes with butterflies, and ice cream, and hugs, and smiles, and happy hellos.... and mistakes, and tissue boxes, and lumps of coal, and sometimes even gut-wrenching goodbyes. I've learned that it needs a lot of nurturing, an occasional revisit to the beginning, and several hours of conversations about nothing...and loving it. I've learned that it creates a willingness to look ridiculous, often a willingness to change, and a willingness to be happy for the other person, even if you're not the one in the picture.
I'm learning that true love is that other half who pushes you to want to become a better person. I'm learning that it can only survive when two people have learned to truly love themselves and others and have recognized that life is a wonderful gift designed to live fully, give of yourself, and not so much to observe. I think we've evolved that way so that our children could have a good example and have a better opportunity to grow up to be a positive force in this world.
At work, I've seen so many sad cases involving innocent children caught between the crossfire of two parents who haven't learned to take care of themselves first so that they can truly love others. So I guess the good news is that not only is it our right, but it's our obligation to take care of ourselves and to fall in love...in true, selfless, passionate love with each other. 
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| Resolution, schmezolution. It's just a fancy word for things to do in January and sometimes the first week of February. Truth is, as accustomed as I am to making laundry lists of goals & having everything planned out, I actually don't have much figured out for 2011. I'm just very eager to get out there and do the right thing.
 2011 started off with prayer--2,000 Hail Maries (sp?) to be exact. I'm not used to this. The new year is often spent watching a street fight on Las Vegas Blvd. or being a glutton at someone's house. I've watched my parents pray this particular prayer as a kid. It's pretty much like staring at a blank wall for 6 hours. But this experience as an adult was different. It was... peaceful. I actually felt the whole "comfort and joy" thing, especially since it ended up being one big family gathering. After having a "for-2011-Ima-do-me" attitude, prayer was a much needed reminder that my purpose on earth isn't to serve myself. Somehow, I finally figured out that when my focus is not on myself, that's when I'm most productive with life in general.
This coming year will certainly offer a myriad of new experiences and opportunities to everyone. I hope each step gives birth to even more faith, hope, and love in 2011.
Happy New Year
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