Just got to thinking...

I would say I'm lucky, but I don't think "luck" has anything to do with it. I am blessed beyond belief.

I have been blessed with four wonderful roommates who have already filled my heart with joy. The laughter we all engage in warms my soul. Despite the stress and sadness that I feel at times, when I come home, it feels okay. It feels like a home; a safe place where I can let my hair down (actually put it up because I get tired of having it down!), throw on my sweats and relax in the company of people I love.

I have been blessed with two grandparents that go out of their way to show their love for me. If I need anything, they want to be the ones to provide it. Even when I don't need something, they want to provide it. Through all of the heartache and smiles and tears and laughter, they have stood by my side. They have been an example of love, both to my brother and me and to each other. Married for over 50 years, I know what a strong bond looks like. They set the bar for a marriage that I want.

I have been blessed with a brother and sister (and not to mention my two wonderful nieces) who look out for me in ways that I may not always realize. I can talk to them about anything with all judgment put aside. I can trust them with my thoughts, my emotions and my life. No matter where we go or what we do, laughter accompanies us. Lots of laughter. The kind other people might find obnoxious. We don't care.

I have been blessed with many friends that I can call my best friends. One of them has put up with me for almost 20 years. She carries with her a piece of my heart. I know that piece will never get lost or broken and I can't thank her enough for that. I have been blessed with her family. I may not have my father here on earth, but I do have hers. That man has loved me like my father loved me. Since my father passed, there is no one on this earth that I have yet to call "Dad" (in all seriousness) other than Saad Abouabdo. He is one of the biggest blessings I have. I look forward to having him as my father for the rest of my years. I know my father will be proud to sit back and watch Saad dance with me at my wedding and shake the hand of the man who he finds good enough for his daughter.

I am blessed. My life gets crazy. My heart gets broken. My dreams don't always come true. But I am so blessed. God has a plan for me that is greater than I could ever imagine. All of the heartache and pain that I face now will mean nothing when all of the pieces of my life fall together to paint such a beautiful picture of the life he created for me. Life is a blessing and I will treat mine as such.

A new chapter.

"No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it."

       - 1 Corinthians 10: 13

"As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins...For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith - and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God - not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do."

Epheshians 2: 1; 8-10

Man, do these speak volumes to me tonight. God is faithful beyond belief. He provides. He heals. He saves. 

Temptations can easily take hold of your life and drag you through some muddy waters. In high school, we used to go mudding. It was lots of fun. But, by the time you were done, mud covered everything. A lot of times, we didn't wash it off right away...it's just not fun if you wash it off as soon as you finish. You have to soak up the environment. (Plus, I hear people pay to lay in mud at spas...apparently it has some health benefits...? Thank you mother nature.) That stuff dried thick and heavy. You had to chip it off a little bit at a time. The windows, even after being grazed by the windshield wipers, were streaky and difficult to see through.

I think temptations, and lust, have the same effect. Our vision is clouded. Their weight bogs down our thoughts and our better judgement. We succumb to the ideas planted in our minds by Satan. He plants these ideas and they grow like wild bamboo, viciously stabbing through every bit of clarity we had. 

We give in to the worldly temptations that surround our everyday lives. The cursing, the gossiping, the lying, cheating, stealing. The list goes on and on. I can't say that I'm perfect and that I do not do any of these things. I admit to giving into temptations. However, I know that I am forgiven.

When you recognize your sins and make an effort to turn from them, you are making an effort to grow closer to the Lord. In the words of Matt Chandler, "When you move farther from the ways God makes you holy and closer to the ways you make you holy...When you move farther from the things God brings to the table for you and closer to the things you bring to the table for you, you are pulling yourself farther from His salvation."

I think I've focused too much on the things I bring to the table. The things I bring are NOTHING compared to what He has to offer me. Unfortunately, it took me this long to realize it. A new chapter in this book that I call "Life" has begun and I look forward to seeing how it ends. But, in the meantime, I'm going to enjoy writing the chapter. 

I have a lot to learn. But lucky for me, I am surrounded by friends and family who have a lot to teach. 

Brisco Tacets

Exhaustion makes us funnier than usual. We say things and think things and dream things differently.

Last night I dreamed that someone moved into my room with me. Her (no idea who she was) little sister came in and started throwing things out of my closet. I woke up so angry.

Then, when I woke up this morning and tried to check the time on my phone, I dropped it on my face. Actually, it was square on the nose. I don't know if you've ever dropped something on your nose but it makes your eyes cry. Not fun.

After that, I put hand soap on my toothbrush and put the toothpaste in the trash can.

In the shower, I washed my hair. Then I put my body wash in my hair, so I had to shampoo all over again.

Went to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription and when asked by the pharmacist, "what's your birthday?" I responded "Um, no...it's not."

Tonight at dinner, I ordered Brisco Tacets. Lucky for me the waiter understood that I meant Brisket Tacos. There's no telling what I could have ended up with.

On the way home, I missed my exit. Then I made a split second decision to just take the next exit. Then I missed it too. Then I exited and turned around to get back on and go to the correct exit...then I missed it again. I really wasn't sure if I would ever get home.

I made it home. My neck hurt pretty bad. Fortunately, I am the proud owner of many tubes of Icy Hot. So I rubbed some of that miracle cream on. However, my eye began to itch. I used the OTHER hand to scratch it. But then as I left the bathroom, I scratched it again with the Icy Hot hand. Damn that short term memory of mine.

Now I'm home laying in my bed with a heating pad on my neck, one eye covered with a wet paper towel and a pretty painful bruise on my face from when I dropped my phone on it. And I can't even begin to count the number of times I've used the backspace key because my fingers are just kind of typing random letters. I keep thinking of the words I want to type and my fingers just kind of flow in a pattern kind of like ;alisjidoj lkjdosif woiejf wiensvsd.

I think I'm going to call it a night before I harm myself any more. Maybe sleep will cure this ailment of self-inflicted pain and the series of unfortunate events that has been my Saturday.

A letter to Dad.

Happy Father's Day.

Every year at this time, I miss going and trying to pick a tie that you might like, even though you rarely wore them. I miss going to Steve and Barry's to get you another hoodie for your obnoxiously large collection. I miss standing in the aisle at the grocery store trying to find a card that would make you laugh. I loved your laugh. I loved how when you laughed too hard, it sounded like a fat kid with asthma, just gusts of wind blowing through a tunnel. It was contagious.

I love that, even though you left this earth, you left me with so much. You left me with strength, wisdom, courage, independence and a strong will. You taught me how to be rough and you taught me when to put that aside, though it's something I still struggle with. You taught me how to stand up for what I believe in. You showed me that it's okay to have weaknesses, and it's even okay to let some people know what those weaknesses are. You were an example of strength. By being such a stubborn man and not letting anyone help you, even with something as simple as moving furniture, you taught me that sometimes it's necessary to let others help.

You continue to inspire me every day. Your memory is behind most of the decisions I make. The letters you wrote me are placed around my room to remind me how much you loved me. Your pictures hang on my walls so I can see your smiling face and remember what a wonderful father you were to me. I know sometimes you doubted yourself as a parent, who doesn't? But you were the best father you could be, and I wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

I am glad you get to spend Father's Day in Heaven celebrating with your Dad and your Heavenly Father. I miss you like crazy.

Thank you for the 18 wonderful years I spent with you. Happy Father's Day, Daddy.

I love you.

It's funny.

It's funny how the mind works; how seeing someone's picture can make you miss them. But, when you think about the time you spent together, or lack thereof, and how disappointing it turned out to be, that longing disappears. Sorry, gentlemen. I'm far from high-maintenance, but I do kind of expect to see you sometimes. If this seems demanding, you're going to have a hard time finding a woman.

It's funny to look back at past relationships, platonic and/or romantic. To see how many have come and gone, and how few have lasted, and to find yourself questioning why you believed in them to begin with. I don't mean for this to sound quite so depressing. But, honestly, think about some of the friendships and relationships you've been in. You know damn well that there has been at least one where you verbalized the well-known "WHAT WAS I THINKING?!" after-thought.

It's funny how different people can be from each other. Some people hate change (me) and others embrace it and thrive off of it. Some people dream about their future (me) and others dwell on their past. Some people like to plan and know what's going to happen (me) and others live completely spontaneously.

It's funny to remember the phases you've passed through in your life. Though my life has just begun and has plenty of time to endure new phases, I love to laugh at some of the old ones. The super flared jeans, the opera music, the bright colored eye shadow that I thought was attractive, the rap music accompanied by the Puerto Rican boyfriend that was no good for me, the platform flip flops, adding "...NOT" to the end of all of your sentences just in case there wasn't enough sarcasm already, MySpaceXangaFacebook, and many, MANY more.

It's funny to see where my life is now and think about where it would have been "...if..."

• ...if Dad was still here.

•  ...if I had lived with those people that I thought were my friends. 

•  ...if I had stayed with that boyfriend.

•  ...if I had chosen a different degree plan. 

•  ...if I hadn't eaten that Chinese food for dinner.

Because even though I'll always wonder "if", I can always look where I am now and know that somewhere along the line, I did something right.

It's funny how some friendships go.
There are those that come into your life and you are completely unaware of why they've been put there. One day you realize how much they've impacted you.
There are those that come into your life and you know right away that they're there for a reason. They create such a tidal wave of emotion in your life and no matter what happens between y'all in the future, they're a big part of your life.
There are those that come into your life and spread poison. Sometimes you're completely unaware until it's too late.
And then there are those that come into your life when you're two-years-old and don't have a clue what life even is. They stick by your side through everything, fly to you from across the country when you're in need, and you find yourself wide awake at 2:00 in the morning because you're so excited to fly out to see them in a week.

It's funny how you dream up this life for yourself and, one day, you wake up and see pieces of it falling into place. I can't wait for the day when I wake up and all the pieces have created a beautiful picture of the life I knew I would have. They say you've reached "middle-age" when you spend more time looking back at your memories than dreaming about your future. Aside from the hundreds of bottles of hair color I will use and the new cars I will buy myself, I think that's reason enough to look forward to middle-age.

Life is funny. Good thing laughter is the best medicine.

 

A little rant for the evening.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The semester is almost complete.

I can't even begin to describe the sense of relief that has begun to come over me. Despite the numerous things I have to accomplish before I can claim to be done, I feel good.

All semester long, I looked at this mound of school work as a hellish monster that was sure to consume me in one piece. The reality: it was slightly less hellish than assumed and only ate one little piece of me at a time. BUT, the good news is, like a lizard's tail, my parts grew back slowly.

I also kept my hair. I did rip some out on occasion when things just weren't going my way and the devil was having a field trip in my mind. I also discovered some gray hairs, and eyebrow hairs, and eyelashes (which I found very strange). But I just borrowed some of the stuff my mom uses to get rid of her grays and everything is okay.

(Just kidding, Mommy. I love you.)

This semester flew by like some of the best parts of my life. They say time flies when you're having fun. I think time also flies when you don't have time to slow down and check your calendar or even your watch. I made a lot of self-discoveries. I learned a lot about myself, my endurance, my tolerance, my talents, my ability to overcome certain odds, my time management skills (and the need for improvement) and most importantly, my strength.

Sidenote: time for a tangent.


Don't ask why, but I decided to look up my career choice on Urban Dictionary to see how people "define me". This is what I found:

"Journalist: a professional liar. a professional distorter. a professional hate mongerer. they craftily use newspapers and television programs to create the illusion that the entire world believes like them. in reality, they are literally just a couple psychos with a really big megaphone. Like Satan, they only have any influence in your life if you choose to let them in."

Sit back. Here we go.

~Professional liar- actually, like most jobs, when journalists lie, they get fired. In fact, the job of an editor is to make sure the journalists are not liars. In fact, journalists are required to cite all information and sources to protects against lying. In fact, the first rule in journalism is "do not fabricate or falsify".

~Professional distorter- see above.

~Professional hate mongerer- I think I'll start by stating the obvious. The creator of this post on Urban Dictionary is obviously not a writer at all because "mongerer" is not in the English vocabulary. Second of all, someone has their panties in a twist. The job of a journalist is not to incite anger or hate. It is to convey factual information that educates the reader.

~Craftily using newspaper and television to create the illusion that the entire world believes like journalists- ha. hahahahaha. haha. That was my first reaction to reading this sentence. Craftily using newspaper and television? Yeah, that's not exactly how this field works. Television and newspaper use information put together by journalists. The journalists are not responsible for the information that is presented. They do not create the facts or the situations or the results. They simply act as a medium for the general public to receive information. And to make the public "believe like them"? Journalists don't believe anything. We're trained to basically doubt everything. We have to research the research that the researchers give us. We are trained to make sure that anything we say or use is obtained from an educated, professional, reliable source. The general public couldn't "believe like us" if they tried.

~A couple of psychos with megaphones- see local high school cheerleaders.

~They only have an influence if you let them in- This one is tough. They are referring to "journalists" here, but I think they're missing something bigger. Journalists have a lot less power over lives than marketers and advertisers. Not to say they are negative, but their job is to convince people to buy crap that they don't need. That's their job, you can't be mad at them for doing it. Billboards, TV commercials, advertisements on the web and in the paper and magazines, articles people read---everything has an affect on people. You can't help but let them in. Don't hate on journalists for bringing you the information you want. I guarantee the creator of this post has no idea how much positive affect the media has had on him/her. They are probably completely unaware that because of journalism, the rapist that lived down the street was caught. The drug dealer around the corner is gone. The business he/she owns has clients and customers because of media. True, these are extreme examples, but let's all just chill out.

I am not saying that other professions aren't challenging. Law school is hard. Medical school is hard. Hospitality management is a huge challenge. But journalism is it's own kind of OMGTHISISHARD. The amount work and dedication and time put into this career is often overlooked. I think it's time for some of us to stand up and show those Urban Dictionary haters what's up.

I did not grow up.

I was raised.

I say yes ma'am, no sir, please, and thank you. I shake hands with someone when I meet them. I bow my head and fold my hands when I pray before my meal. I place my hand over my heart during the Pledge of Allegiance. I offer my seat to the elderly and mothers holding their children.

I was raised.

If I'm asked to do a job, I do it. And I do it to the best of my ability. I make my share of mistakes, but I own up to them. I learn to do things on my own so I do not have to depend on others. I do not expect to be given anything; I work for what I have.

I was raised.

I trust people until I am given a reason not to. I see the good in everyone, even when most people only see the bad. I give second chances, even though sometimes I shouldn't. I never make a promise that I cannot keep.

I was raised.

The choices I make are not based on what other people think. My beliefs are not based on what other people say. My values are not based on how the world has changed. My choices, my beliefs and my values are based on the way I was raised.

I was raised to be strong, independent, smart (street and book), modest, hard-working, trustworthy and self-confident.

But sometimes:
I have moments of weakness. I need someone to help me. I make stupid decisions. I say and do things I know I shouldn't. I slack off. I don't tell the whole truth. I doubt myself.

Thanks to my mother and father, I'm able to get past the weakness and dependence and mistakes and let-downs and doubts. I'm able to pick myself up, dust myself off and continue on with my head held high.

I did not just grow up, I was raised.


I miss you, Daddy.
10.07.2008 <3