Panties

Today was my day off, and rather than writing about some lubby-dubby heartwrenching cutesy event, I think I'll write about panties instead.


Real reason for panties being the subject today is that because it was in fact my day off, and because several plans (like Plan 1, Plan 2, and Plan 3) fell apart, one after the other, I decided to get rid of our mountainous range of dirty laundry. Anyway, ok, to get to the main part of this meaningless tale, I have to first explain a few things, uhm, like:


- I have a lot of panties,
- I love cute panties,
and
- I am small; therefore, my panties are small too.


Oh yeah, and my first job ever was at Victoria's Secret, where I mainly folded panties, and I would have to endure seeing the blubbery female shoppers forage for freshly-folded panties, and then re-fold those same panties. OVER and OVER and OVER again (repeated 5000000000000000 times).


Anyway, I guess while working there, the folding technique rubbed off on me and I began to implement such technique in my drawer. Five years later, I still fold my panties the VS way.


And I have quite the extensive collection.


Main point: I was folding my laundry and realized that I will most likely never ever NOT deviate from such folding style. I can imagine, actually, that I'll pass on this folding technique to the next generations or whatever.


Whether this story is stupid, kind of gross, or kind of cute, think about it. Do you fold your panties?


P.S. I don't know how to draw panties. My apologies for the lack of drawings.

Goodbye 2010!

Can you believe it? The year is very much a few hours from ending (central time lol). Isn't that marvelously amazing?


Yes, and I have to say (and confidently and proudly do so) that this year has been one of the most memorable, difficult, and amazing years of my entire life. For various reasons...let's summarize (not in any particular order):

1. 2010 arrived, and I realized that thanks to my dear God, I was able to welcome the year. While in Mexico for the New Year's church service, the priest delivered a message from God directly to me. That He had chosen to give me another chance after the accident so that I may continue working on fulfilling my purpose. (While I may not know what my purpose is exactly, I know what it is not!)
2. I got to meet a lot of interesting people, both at work and at school. I love people. I love company.
3. My sisters and I had the opportunity to bond with our youngest uncle, and if it hadn't been for his long visit, we wouldn't be as close and comfortable with each other as we are today.
4. I graduated from university, with a degree in Finance and Economics.
5. I met the love of my life, and even though it was an ephemeral relation, it was amazing. I don't think I'll ever forget that "Prince Phillip" lookalike from Colorado.
6. We purchased Panchis, Poni's replacement.
7. I changed jobs.
8. I had the pleasure of hanging out with my love several times.
9. The Poni case and my chiropractor appointments finally ended.

And here we are. While I'm not in Mexico to welcome 2011, something inside me (intuition? hope?) assures me that this is going to be another wonderful year. I've no idea what's coming, but I'm ready to take on whatever comes our way.


I do have a few resolutions though for 2011, ranging from learning how to dance (finally!) to strengthening my faith and love. How do you like dem apples?


Happy New Year's, everyone! Enjoy all that comes your way!!

Home for Christmas

I usually spend Christmas in Mexico with my mother and sister, but today I'm home. In Texas. For Christmas. Feels strange. I don't remember what we're supposed to do here. And I haven't made up my mind on whether Christmas is better here in good ole Texas or back in the "motherland."

You know, I don't even know where to begin with this. A few things have come up at the same time -- perfect timing, stupid things! -- and that weird, unwelcome, knotty feeling in my throat and heart have decided to pay me a visit for the holidays.

It's a jumble of things, a father who considers his daughters nothing more than financial burdens, a miserable focus on consumerism and materialism during the holidays, that phase of blind vulnerability when one is in love with another (but that other probably doesn't even deserve one's love to begin with and might not even be able to grasp the strength of this love in its entirety), and among other things, a realization that others look at love like they do a job search: that while one may be in a relationship, it's totally okay and acceptable to search elsewhere for better or more convenient "options."

I laugh at myself. Remember years past, when in Mexico, languishing and torturing myself, wondering what I could have been doing had I stayed home for Christmas. That "the grass is much greener" phrase pops into my head right now, things aren't better here than there. I miss tradition. I miss the focus on the real meaning. 

Remembering the things I've gone through, the things I've survived, the terrible things I've done with terrible people. Confiding with others what I feel. Departing from life as I know it for a teeny moment each year.

But you know, it's okay! I needed to get this out in the open, but I REFUSE to let these things bog me down. I've lived worse things, and there will be a solution for the current situation. For now, I thank God my family is all together-together, that I still love and will not cease to love, that there is still so much more for me to go through.

Now, now! Let us be happy! Let's share a laugh, from my favorite version of "Sleigh Ride" (a sort of mini-tradition, now that I think about it...):

Happy Christmas, everyone!

Things I Remembered Today

Today was one of those days in which I remembered a few things (as the title may have hinted) from my far and recent past. Let me just write about them, not in any particular order.

Potatoes...mmm.

After lunch at school one day. My then-sweetheart and I walking toward the cafeteria exit, and he throws his tray into the trashcan. The tray falls on another tray that had a poor, lonely French fry limpingly lying on its edge. The weirdest part, that this tray with the fry on it was slanted at such an angle, that when the falling tray fell on it, the result was a French fry catapult. The poor surprised fry flew quite a distance --- from one side of the trashcan to the other. We were the only two people who saw this happen. I still remember the poor flying fry. 

These don't look so good when they're in throw up form.

I had eaten a lot of grapes earlier on this particular day. My mom and aunts decided it would be an awesome idea to go to Grapevine. I had the super-genius idea of reading Wayside School Is Falling Down during the car ride. A few minutes away from our destination, the grapes blended with my reading and surprise surprise: I threw up grapes in and out of the car.

Utter cuteness!!!!

We were talking about bees that day. You see, I try to look at my relationship with bees as symbiotic. Or is it mutual? Anyway, I don't hate bees. I don't love them either. They're okay, to say the least, like if they were people walking near me, I wouldn't mind them. Anyway, I said that day, "Just look at them! They're so cute and fuzzy and fat!" as a chunky bumblebee hovered around us and the flowers. (He had said he was afraid of bees, you see, and I was trying to defend them.) "Oh but these don't sting!" Oh wait, those are honeybees. Oops. We then proceeded to walk away from the cutesy-chunky-wunky bumblebee.

Yes, I have a real picture of hay bale cylinder thingies, but I don't wanna get my camera out.

I got off work late and was driving home past eleven. This was one of many nights that year, one of the toughest I've lived so far. Listening to Coldplay. Driving on Memorial, the then-really-really-remote, unknown portion of it, the part that's behind the Legends and before the waterpark. Anyway, there's only one lane for each direction and I'm driving, right?, and then I see these two giant circles in the middle of both lanes. Couldn't decipher them. Started slowing down as I got closer. Two giant HAY BALE CYLINDER THINGIES. Either the wind conveniently placed these two hay bale cylinder thingies on the road or some ruffian did, but I had to get home. So little Poni and I had to do a 180 degree turn on that tight road and go home the long way. It was quite an experience. One of the many I had with Poni.


Every now and then I think my life is boring, but days like today remind me that these little random events have made it worth living. I know that's kind of a gushy ending to this little Tidbit, but hey, maybe I'm a gushy kind of girl. (Who, by the way, has realized that the heart is always right. The head is merely there to support the heart.)

My Car Needs a Bath

I apologize for the delay in writing, I've been beating myself up about it -- having like three posts that I was supposed to publish these last couple of weeks -- but here we go. On a whim, I'll talk a little bit about my car's condition. Yes, definitely about my car today.

Let me keep it short. I've realized that I haven't washed my poor car since May. That sounds gross, but it's unfortunately true. I really should get on to that. Some tiny obscure part of my mind tells me I haven't washed it due to "attachment" reasons, but I'm trying to ignore that tiny thought. I promise I'll wash it by the end of this week! And then I'll show off Panchis' perfect cleanliness. Practically godliness (I just had to allude to that trite phrase. A million sorries!)

[Question: is the plural of "sorry" sorries?]

Anyway, maybe I'll follow this video tutorial on "How to Wash Your Car." Enjoy, maybe you should wash your car too!

Home Again, Home Again

Last week I drove down to Mexico with my mother and uncle. The mission: to collect my adorable grandmother at the border and bring her home (to good ole Dallas, TX) for Thanksgiving and whatnot.

Anyway, rather than to bore y'all with wordy details about driving endless hours to and fro, I present my trip in pictures. Enjoy!

Start of trip: 7 pm

 From 8 pm to 2 am: neverending highway with 1 stop for gas and then one stop for a tiny bit of sleep.

Utter darkness for like fifty years.

Sleeping for three measly hours.

 Then crossing the border at the nice hour of 6 in the morning.

That's totally what it looks like.

 Then, success: Grandmother acquired and taken.

Yay everyone!

Those were super fun border adventures (in which, we were criminals! :D).

My poor drawing skills no longer have to torture y'all: I took pictures on the way back home. I lost track of time in between, but it lasted like 500 years.

The beginning of the end.

Pretty skies with sheepy clouds!!

COTULLA!!

They're working on building a red building.

Uhm, San Antonio.

If there's a McDonald's, you know you've reached civilization.

Yay pollution!

We must be in Austin, so much traffic.

Traffic fun times.

More highway.

Cheese. My goodness.

Floating truck.

A li'l competition never hurt nobody.

American Indian head.

Somewhere along the way, we passed Waco. I was too excited looking for the CATERPILLAR, that I didn't care to take pictures of Waco. Sorry Waco, but you're not very interesting. (This is what Waco basically looks like.)

Cows, of course.

One hay rolly thing.

"Lotsa" hay rolly things.

CATERPILLAR!!!

Dome-y buildings!

Hi, CATERPILLAR!!

Yay Waxahachie :D

Good ole Dallas.

The end! :D

Remember, Remember...

"Remember, remember, the Fifth of November..."

Many people don't care about the significance of this date. Others think it's some part of the film "V for Vendetta." Others remember Guy Fawkes. I remember Poni. Poni and my lack of invincibility. My smallness and God's greatness. His immensity. His everything.

A year ago today, my Philosophy professor let my class out early -- only twenty minutes before our usual time. It was a lovely, pristine, November 5th, a Thursday. I was relieved to be out of that class early: I had to stop by a Pier 1 Imports to make a credit payment.

Drove down my favorite beautiful street, Hillcrest. Getting past the bottleneck-prone section right beside SMU. Driving on the left lane. Passing a rather large pickup truck with a trailer attached on its back, which was making a right turn on Hanover. I caught a glimpse of the thoughtless woman driving her unnecessarily large Lexus SUV. She had a stop. Common sense told me she would stop. She didn't.

R.I.P. Poni

I used to have an unimportant, unnoticed, piece of a car. Poni.

He had spunk. We knew each other well. I know it sounds weird, I mean, cars don't feel, they don't breathe, they are non-living things. Cars have no soul, but I could swear to you, Poni was something else. Knew when to slow down and when to speed up. Flashing cobalt blue right before your eyes. He was very basic, no cool gadgets or technological pizzazz. Had to roll down my windows. Manually open and lock the doors. Remember to turn the lights on and off.

The stupid (yes, she truly was stupid) woman killed my Poni. Hit me on the right. Airbag came out. If she had been going any faster, I don't think my doors would have opened. I could already see the crumpling effect on dear Poni. Engine began to smoke. Traffic began to accumulate. Called 911. It was only 4:55 pm.

A beautiful, clear, pristine day.

All alone. Instinct told me to set aside any tears and not think of how close I was to death. I waited. Mother, who had been seriously ill, drove all the way to the accident scene to take me home. To protect me. I had an interview the coming Monday. With Citi. Thanks, stupid woman, you did sort of interfere at the wrong time.

We waited until the tow truck carried Poni away. Left a mark at Hanover and Hillcrest. The mark is still there by the way, a memory of Poni, resistant to rain and snow and wind.

This wasn't my first accident. But it was my first, alone. Just the day before, I had gone to pick up my then four-year-old cousin from his house to babysit him at mine. In Poni. He had been Poni's last passenger. What humbled me then was thinking, "What if I had been in accident on that day? What would have happened to not only me, but my little cousin as well??" It's a terrifying feeling. I was close to death. God chose to sacrifice my poor car in order to save me.

He could have easily chosen to take my life that Fifth of November. He didn't.

Why?

I must have a purpose. What is my purpose?

To realize what is important?

To realize where my heart lies.

To cherish every single day of my life.

To enjoy being with the ones I love.

To miss the ones I can't be with, not wistfully, but lovingly.

To understand how powerful and strong God's love for me is.

To realize that though I'm one human being, I am important enough to God to still breathe today.

To love.

And so, while I "remember, remember, the Fifth of November," I thank God for allowing me to experience everything that comes my way. The love I feel is beyond words. The renewed faith I now hold is endlessly profound. God, I love You.