love love love..

Why do I always come back to writing about Love?! Don't I have a more unique topic to examine and explore with words? I suppose you write what inspires you and I had an inspirational conversation today with a fellow co-worker. Well on his way to receiving his PhD in "therapizing" (aka Psychology), I felt a glimpse of what it might feel like to be sitting on the "couch". It was tough.

He forced me to explain the way I define Love. More specifically-- how do I show love to others? And the root of that, how was love shown to me? And then the real problem that is a result of these two: how do I expect others to show Love to me?

I thought of the greatest example of Love in my life. Obviously, my mom. She has shown me and my family unconditional love in the way that only mothers can do. This love was poured out to us in the form of sacrifice. She sacrificed her time, her career, basically her life, in order to ensure that we had bright and shiny futures and happy memories. The way she did this was simple. She gave us everything. She brought us to lesson after lesson of piano, swimming, dance, calligraphy, basketball, etc. She enrolled us into the best schools and prep courses. She fed us vitamins on the daily. Also, she took care of us. When we were sick, she was by our bedside constantly with water and various Chinese herbal medicines. The only moments she was away, she was in the kitchen on the stove, stirring a pot of more herbs, and then making us easily digestible and nutritious food: congee. Even when we were healthy and active, she always had food prepared for us. Even when she was at work, we knew we had a plate of dumplings waiting for us, covered on the kitchen counter when we got home from school. She woke us up with breakfast and packed us lunch (even though I resented this when the odd and pungent smell of Chinese food pierced the air around me at the lunch table at school).

And thusly, this is how I show my love.

I try to pay attention to the things that my loved ones want or need. And when the proper gift giving time arrives, be it birthdays, Christmas, or whenever I feel like it.. I give. I live to see the smile on the face. The utter surprise that I actually remembered.

All I want to do is make soup for a friend who is sick. Write them heartfelt get well cards when they aren't feeling up to par. Take them out to eat to cheer them up.

And so, this is how I expect love to be returned to me. Not realizing that this is not how everyone loves. That I should not set myself up for disappointment by depending on someone to love me the way my mother loved me-- because maybe their mommy loved them differently. And to be open to that possibility. And to be willing to learn and to teach. And receive love in a way that maybe I've never experienced. But is no less beautiful than the love that I've been familiar with all of my life.

heart day.

Pablo Neruda

Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde,
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:
así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera.

love.

At 23 years young and with only one "official" relationship under my belt, I almost feel underqualified to comment on the subject of love. Although I know on paper my experience looks sparse, I feel blessed to have encountered significant people that have taught me so much about matters of the heart at such an early time in my life. I may not have had a boyfriend since the age of 15, but I know I'm lucky to have experienced so much and so many different types of love before and since then.

Lately I've slowly come to the realization that I feel completely different about relationships in a subtle but also very drastic way. It was a gradual acknowledgment on my part-- I only began to notice it when I listened to old and new songs that I expected to tug at my heart strings in a certain way. They still spoke to my soul in the way that exquisitely written lyrics and beautifully composed music will always affect me, but something had changed and I couldn't feel the same feelings that I expected myself to feel when I listened to these songs. It would take a couple months, flying from coast to coast, talking and interacting with old and new faces, writing my first wedding toast for a close friend, and lots of reflecting time before I could pinpoint what exactly had changed.

Someone told me recently that he admires me because he knows I have a "magnificent heart". At the time I thought it sounded almost silly and almost too magical to actually make sense. It was a compliment, and I've never been one to accept compliments gracefully, so I let it float around somewhere in my memory, not understanding the description enough to acknowledge its existence.

I'm beginning to believe more and more, mostly because it's becoming impossible to ignore, that the Universe conspires to reveal things to you when it knows that you're ready for them. Shortly after my friend gave me the glowing comment about my heart, another friend confessed to me that she wasn't able to bear a pseudo-relationship situation anymore because she knows she has a "weak heart" and it just couldn't bear to carry on any further. Suddenly everything made sense. Clearly, I had forgotten all the years of Pre-Med Biology classes that taught me about physiology, because I would've remembered that the heart is a muscle. As with all muscles, they are strengthened when exercised and pushed to their limits. When you go to the gym, you sweat, max out at the bench, and endure soreness the next few days in order to build up and define your muscles. The heart is no different. The more you love, the harder you love, the deeper you love, and the more love you experience-- your heart becomes stronger for it.

Furthermore, if I had really studied the organ systems better for my MCATs I would've known that the heart is a myogenic muscular organ. It's not just any muscle. It's composed of cardiac muscle, an involuntary striated muscle tissue that's found only in the heart. What's significant about that? Involuntary means without volition. Volition is defined as the act of choosing or determining. A heart is an unique muscle as you don't get to control it. It just beats whether you tell it to or not.

This is real love. Somewhere along the way in the past year, I learned to stop trying to control and tame my heart and let myself love freely. Without expectation, comprehension, or condition. Unconditional love, although extremely frightening, turns out to be much less painful. Because when you truly love selflessly, you learn to expect nothing in return, thereby avoiding the inevitable disappointment that comes with expecting something from another human being. This sounds almost pessimistic and depressing. But it's far from it. When you come from this place of such uncertain vulnerability, you also free yourself to experience a limitless amount of happiness that can't be attained without exposing yourself in this manner. It's a mature kind of love that I feel like mothers probably possess for their children. Only when you are able to give this kind of real love, are you able to receive such great love in return. And with all the best things in life, it doesn't come easy. It takes hard work, patience, honesty, and lots of faith. I am far from fully attaining this form of real love, but I am so grateful that I now know a glimmer of what it could be when I do get there.

I used to be scared of using the word "love". I only wanted it to be reserved for special occasions, with special people. Because of some silly childhood misinterpretation of Disney princesses and fairy tales, I thought love had to be reserved for only one person in your life. I read a quote the other day that resonated with me:

"When you understand someone, truly understand someone, no matter who they are, you cannot help but love 'em, even though you might not always love what they do."

Obviously, I feel like I understand more than one person in my life, so it would be dumb of me to try to limit my love to a solitary person. It took me awhile, but I have finally given myself permission to love as many people as much as possible.

Lastly, the movie "My Best Friend's Wedding" has come to mind recently. Although I've always related with Julia Robert's character and found Cameron Diaz's character to be ridiculously annoying, she says something in the movie that I have decided I'm going to try to live by.

"If you love someone you say it, you say it right then, out loud. Otherwise the moment just... passes you by."

Never deny or hold back from the most important thing in life. Love!

mayer wisdom

Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
Fear is a friend who's misunderstood
But i know the heart of life is good.
I know it's good.

anniversary.

With less than a month away from my year mark of leaving home, I'm left contemplating how much and how little has changed within these 365 days. I can confidently say that I am not the same heart broken girl that packed up her life one snowy February morning and drove across the country. I've matured in every way possible and honestly cannot recall ever feeling happier or more content as I have in these past few months. But, what hasn't changed I realized when I went home, was the fact that my heart still has not fully put itself back together. Of course, I knew this while I was still in LA, but it was definitely more evident when I returned to DC and I was forced to face the person responsible for the heart breaking.

I will give myself credit for not being the pathetic mess that I was rendered into before I moved, but I must admit, I am probably still deserving of the pathetic label. I really wanted to see him again and show him that I was done with him, that I've moved on. It felt like every fiber of my being had changed for the better, except the persistent little corner of my heart that fluttered in response to his presence. The same way it fluttered when we first started exchanging post-work text messages which quickly escalated into high school makeout sessions and the like.

It's been said that it takes half of the length of a relationship to get over someone. Well, the psuedo relationship that I am currently referring to barely lasted 4 months, and 12 months later, he's still the person that I secretly hope is responsible for the anticipatory blinking red light on my blackberry.

Of course, I subjected myself to my own misery in search of fleeting happiness, by choosing to interact with him several times during my stay at home. Of course, there was something that was still there, which only gave me fragile hope that I desperately scrambled to cling onto. Of course, there were more than enough mixed messages that caused me to over-analyze his every spoken word, unprompted text message, and lingering touch.

At this point, I'm wondering if it's just a pride thing. I'm addicted to the feeling of having the "upper hand", but at the same time, I seem to also enjoy sitting like a desperate puppy wagging its tail furiously while waiting for more attention from its owner. Sometimes it really just feels like a power tug of war. If that were the case, the rope would be tied around my heart and every time I've turned around and walked away, I can only get so far before he gently tugs me back towards him and I have no choice but to follow my lassoed heart. However, I know it's more than just a game. I've invested too much of myself into this relationship, for it to be just a game. I care about him beyond comprehension. I give without limit and without an expectation of much of a return. As twisted and ridiculous our relationship is and has been, it seems we have reached an understanding of each other.

"Your welcome," he said to me, seemingly at random, during our first encounter with each other after 6 months apart.

"For what?" I asked him.

"For being someone you can save," he replied.

Although he is far from just being my current "charity case", he was right. Part of me so desperately wants to be his heroine. All I want to do is take care of him, make him smile, and love him.

On our last shared night together, he spat out drunken confessions of how much he's missed me, how I've always been his 'favorite', of how he could see us as a married couple in the future. All things that I really want to believe, but am trying not to for my own sanity.

When I hugged him goodbye, I told him I'd miss him. And I do. What exactly I miss, I'm not quite sure. How long will I miss him? I don't know.

I really feel as if I will always harbor the same feelings for him, no matter how much my life changes. And in a surprisingly (or not so surprisingly) way, I am totally okay with that tiny (or not so tiny) part of my life remaining constant.

Allergy?

So a few things have happened to me in the past three days that are worth noting.

First, during a Sunday afternoon brunch bartending shift at Bao Dim Sum House in West Hollywood, I made and served drinks to Leonardo DiCaprio (and his girlfriend Bar Rafeali). If you know me at all, you know that I have been fascinated with Leo since I was twelve. I still watch the fishtank scene from Romeo & Juliet and feel my heart flutter. Everything about him is appealing to me, even though physically he does not possess the qualities I am usually attracted to in a man. Anyway, the point is, my one and only celebrity crush of my life magically materialized in the restaurant in which I tend bar. I haven't gotten star struck yet in LA, but I will say I had trouble controlling the shakes in my knees when I was making their drinks. I will stop myself from going on any further in fear that somehow he stumbles upon my blog and reads about my unhealthy obsession with him.

The next day, after my acting class, I decided to hang out with a friend at his apartment. I bought a pack of Camel Blues and a bottle of Crown Royal from CVS and drove on over. He took out some cups and ice and I poured us drinks. We listened to music and smoked cigarettes. It was a good time. About 3 hours had passed, I had about 2 1/2 small drinks, and we decided to call it a night. I felt fine to drive as I know I usually am able to down 6-13 whiskey shots just fine. And a few hours had passed, so even less was left in my system. As I was heading out the door I felt a little light headed but shook it off, thinking that it was due to the fact that I had been sitting for awhile and just abruptly got off. I felt disoriented when looking for the elevator and when I finally found it and made my way inside, I pressed the wrong button. The next thing I remember is waking up on the floor, watching the elevator door slowly open to the underground garage. I had passed out and collapsed. Feeling weak and confused I attempted to press the "1" button thinking that was the right floor, and again I collapsed. This time I was out for a little longer, although when I opened my eyes the door was still open to the 1st floor. I stared out at the wall for a minute and then closed my eyes again, too weak to move. It was then I decided that there was no way I was going to make it home in the condition I was in. I decided to head back to my friend's apartment and crash there. Too bad I couldn't remember his room number. I somehow managed to stand up and press the button for level "3" and as I stumbled out of the elevator on his floor I pinballed my way down the hallway. I didn't have the strength to stand up so I ended up slamming into the wall on my left, bouncing off and then slamming to the wall on my right, repeating, then falling to the floor, then getting up, and repeating the whole process until I reached his door. Luckily, I remembered there was a white box on the floor in front of the door of the apartment next to his, so I knew I was in the right place. After I mustered up the strength to knock on his door and almost immediately afterwards, I crumpled to the floor in a heap as he opened the door. I was completely covered in sweat and he had to help me stand up. Surprisingly, I was completely coherent and was able to articulate my thoughts and speak clearly. He offered me his bed and he took the couch like a gentleman, and then I decided I needed to puke my insides out, like a proper lady should. When I made my way to his bathroom, right as I got inside, I had another fainting spell and collapsed hitting my head on his sink and knocking over various things in the process. I threw up all that I could and then headed back to bed after cleaning my mouth with some toothpaste. I had trouble sleeping and a couple hours later tried to puke some more. I collapsed again in his bathroom and knocked over more stuff. I threw up whatever was left in my stomach and went back to bed. I woke up and felt just fine. But then I couldn't find my cell phone. Or my car keys. And my car was parked on the street cleaning side of the street that morning. Awesome. (Later on, my cell phone was found in the elevator by another kind tenant and my keys were retreived in the hallway from the building janitor)

Now it's Tuesday and I decide I need to treat my friend out to lunch after the ordeal that happened last night. If I was at any other place with any other person I would of sworn I was date rape drugged, but because that was really not even a possibility, I blame it (maybe) on the CVS brand of tablet Pepcid AC. But who knows. He drives me home because my keys are still missing and I gather some clothes for work/gym, while I'm in my room I find a packet of cashews and I eat a few because I'm hungry. We head to lunch and I realize I left my cell phone in my room, but I don't have the keys to get back in the house, and because my roommate left I was locked out. Sucks. The place we were going to eat bomb bacon at is apparently closed on Tuesday. Double sucks. We get burgers at Fatburger next door and he drops me off at the gym when we're done eating. I work out for about an hour and a half. Finishing up cardio on the treadmill, 16 minutes in, I get really itchy. All over my body. I look forward to taking a shower, then I realize that my eyelids, lips, and tongue are swelling-- something's not right. I realize I feel my throat constricting. After I hit 20 minutes, I allow myself to get off the treadmill and I run to the nearest bathroom, look in the mirror, and discover hives all over my face and arms, and a swollen tongue and lips. I let the gym manager know and by this time the hives all over my body are joined together so that everything is one big raised up pink mess. She call an ambulance and they arrive, discover that the hives have taken over my legs and back as well, and they end up taking my blood pressure, giving my oxygen, and sticking me with benadryl and other fluids. All the while trying to figure out what my allergy is. After a cold ambulance ride and 3 hours at the ER I am finally back to normal.

Now I have scratch marks all over my stomach from my excessive itching, cuts under my chin from fainting, and an extremely achy neck from the whiplash incurred from bouncing and falling all over the place. Also, I still don't know what caused the scary side effects from the 2 shots of whiskey or the allergic reaction that landed me in the ER.

WTF.

Amazing.

Today I was reminded of how truly surprising and amazing Life can be. I felt it was necessary to chronicle some of its events in order to keep a record that will serve as a reminder.

Tomorrow, I have an audition for a commercial for Full Tilt Poker. Naturally, I feel confident and excited about this opportunity. I feel I have an advantage due to the fact that I've been exposed to poker at an early age as a result of my brother's interest in it, which in turn has had a huge impact on me. Because of my familiarity, I feel comfortable with poker. And naturally, with comfort, comes forth confidence.

I still decided to contact my brother concerning the audition so that he could answer my questions and give me any extra information that may be beneficial for my audition. He ended the brief phone call by telling me that Full Tilt only sponsors well established professional poker players. I hung up after parking my car in my driveway and immediately noticed two people circling my house, obviously interested in the newly vacant space downstairs. At first I was wary of their presence; I was tired and wanted to take a nap prior to my work shift. However, they approached me while I was advancing towards my house and I engaged in a lively conversation with the couple about the property and their interest in it. After a brief conversation, I found out they currently live in Las Vegas and are professional poker players. I informed them of my impending audition, and lo and behold, the woman I was speaking to is a fully sponsored professional poker player for Full Tilt.

WHAT?!

Yes. That happened.

As much as I believe in "The Secret" and "The Power" and the theories that are behind this phenomenon, of course, I have my skepticism as well. But how could I deny their existence when a situation like this happens? I really can't. Just. Wow.

Not only was this a crazy "coincidence", but a confidence booster as well. The man sincerely expressed his belief many times that I was going to do something "big". He said he could feel it in my energy.

To be honest, I don't know what kind of energy I am exuding, but on several occasions of late, other people have told me they have felt it too. I still can't pinpoint exactly where it is coming from, but I hope to continue to shine as bright as I can for as long as God allows me to.

God is Great. Life is Amazing. And so it goes.

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you.