A Rock and a Hard Place

At work we have these huge rooms with rolling racks where we keep clothes. Lots and lots of clothes. One of my fears is that someone rolls one of them while I'm in between racks because they didn't know I was there.

Basic.

I love a good challenge. I strangely enjoy working hard. (I'm actually beginning to think that I enjoy being scared. It's the adrenaline.) One effective way to get me to do something is to tell me that I can't or that I won't. There's something incredibly satisfying about proving people wrong.

Sorry, I'm losing my point.

Sometimes, however, the best things and your finest moments happen instantly and effortlessly. When something is just right, it seems to usually happen the first time.

Instinct. A friend once told me that your instincts are little signs from God. I believe it.

Not Just a River in Egypt

Bethesda Fountain, Central Park, September 2011

I still keep my metro card in my wallet.

I haven't changed "current city" on my Facebook.

I've kept my NYMate and HopStop Apps on my phone.

I'm still signed up for Living Social Midtown.

Weather.com is still defaulted for NYC.

I just like to keep them as little reminders.

Or maybe I'm just in denial.

25 is the new 22

It's one of my new sayings. I'll tell you why.

Twenty two is around the time you finish undergrad, which used to be when most people would begin their careers.

Then the economy happened, and now post grad education isn't just for doctors and lawyers anymore. Everyone's doing it. Either that, or Teach for America, or Peace Corps, etc. I make my case here on our generations postponement of real life.

After all of that, we're around 25. NOW it's time to finally begin our careers, with all of those other really adult things to follow.

So don't feel bad, if you're 25ish and not where you thought you'd be when you were dreaming about adulthood as a kid. On the former Life Timeline, we're only about 22.

For my friends who just can't stop.

"It's one of those moments when I think, yeah...It's all worth it. And my life is how I want it. Right now." -Kristin Goodman, a friend from Parsons during finals week her last semester


We all strive for success. How you define what success is, well, that's up to you. For me, that road towards it began when I discovered the things that I am most passionate about; when I started to formulate this big picture. It wasn't forced; it never is. All of a sudden, it seems, you get this "Aha!" moment. Then we realize that all the little moments in life were leading us in the right direction all along. Life just needed us to realize it.

You may not always love that particular thing you're doing, in that moment. No one likes waking up at 6 in the morning then staying at the office until 11. No one likes staying at school until 1:30 AM, then taking the train back to Jersey and getting home by 3, then having to be up by 7 to get to class on time. No one likes running on zero sleep. Or working 7 days a week for basically nothing, and some times for literally nothing. We don't like putting ourselves in situations that are so incredibly difficult and seemingly impossible that we wonder if we're gonna come out of it alive. We don't love that feeling of being close to failure, but know that if we push a little harder, we're closer to achieving that sometimes seemingly allusive dream, even if it's just a little.

"Brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to show how badly we want something. Because the brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want something badly enough. They are there to keep out the other people." -Randy Pausche, The Last Lecture
Like I said, we may not always love that particular thing we're doing, in that moment. What we do love, is knowing that we're taking steps, and it's all towards making sure that big picture is just as awesome in real life as it is in our heads.

That, and we're just crazy. Passionately, undeniably crazy.

Parachutes

Whenever we are developing a new standard color, we send out a yard of nine different types of fabric to a dyer: cotton, chiffon, charmeuse, cdc, georgette, sweater, knit, velveteen, and cord.

I was cutting the corduroy first. It was folded up, but like the way you'd fold a paper fan. It was quite the cumbersome task. It was on the floor, and the measuring tape was taped to a shelf which was about two feet off the ground, and that lug of fabric is not easy to maneuver. And you also have to remember that my arm span is just under 5". (I know that because remember that trick as a kid, when you found out that your height is your arm span?)

Anyways, I was just finishing up the cord and about to put it away. As I was trying to fold it back up to put back into the box, the entire roll just starts unraveling. It felt like it was in slow motion. I was trying to salvage the bulk of fabric, but it was no use. It was dunzo. It was like sitting under a parachute the way we did when were in elementary school Fabric all around; over my head; just completely surrounded.

Trying to find a starting point, all I could do was hope that no one passed by and see me engulfed in that sea of corduroy.

I Don't Wanna

Living in New York, sending in that rent check was one of the most painful experiences that I dreaded each and every month.

Well, I discovered something that was nearly or just as horrible.

My boss came back from NY with retail samples. BCBG, Adam, Rebecca Taylor, Elie Tahari... I had to tag, photograph, and cut swatches from the back of each garment.

I had to cut holes out of these perfectly new, mostly cute, not cheap, designer clothes.

It was torture. I felt guilty with each agonizing snip. And hated every single minute of it.

My heart breaks a little just thinking about it.

"This season is about becoming."

I found this article floating around fb and wanted to re-post it. I thought it was quite appropriate considering the timing and current situation.

I love everything about it.

11 Things to Know at 25(ish)

by Shauna Niequiest

What you need to know to be a real adult.

When you’re 25-ish, you’re old enough to know what kind of music you love, regardless of what your last boyfriend or roommate always used to play. You know how to walk in heels, how to tie a necktie, how to give a good toast at a wedding and how to make something for dinner. You don’t have to think much about skin care, home ownership or your retirement plan. Your life can look a lot of different ways when you’re 25: single, dating, engaged, married. You are working in dream jobs, pay-the-bills jobs and downright horrible jobs. You are young enough to believe that anything is possible, and you are old enough to make that belief a reality.

1. You Have Time to Find a Job You Love

Now is the time to figure out what kind of work you love to do. What are you good at? What makes you feel alive? What do you dream about? You can go back to school now, switch directions entirely. You can work for almost nothing, or live in another country or volunteer long hours for something that moves you. There will be a time when finances and schedules make this a little trickier, so do it now. Try it, apply for it, get up and do it.

When I was 25, I was in my third job in as many years—all in the same area at a church, but the responsibilities were different each time. I was frustrated at the end of the third year because I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do next. I didn’t feel like I’d found my place yet. I met with my boss, who was in his 50s. I told him how anxious I was about finding the one perfect job for me, and quick. He asked me how old I was, and when I told him I was 25, he told me I couldn’t complain to him about finding the right job until I was 32. In his opinion, it takes about 10 years after college to find the right fit, and anyone who finds it earlier than that is just plain lucky. So use every bit of your 10 years: try things, take classes, start over.

2. Get Out of Debt and Stay Out of Debt

Part of being a healthy, mature adult is learning to live within your means all the time, even if that means going without things you think you need, or doing work you don’t love for a while to be responsible financially. The ability to adjust your spending according to your income is a skill that will serve you your whole life.

There will be times when you have more money than you need. In those seasons, tithe as always, save like crazy, and then let yourself buy fancy shampoo or an iPad or whatever it is you really get a kick out of. When the money’s not rolling in, buy your shampoo from the grocery store and eat eggs instead of steak—a much cheaper way to get protein. If you can get the hang of living within your means all the time—always tithing, never going into debt—you’ll be ahead of the game when life surprises you with bad financial news.

I know a lot of people who have bright, passionate dreams but who can’t give their lives to those dreams because of the debt they carry. Don’t miss out on a great adventure God calls you to because you’ve been careless about debt.

3. Don’t Rush Dating and Marriage

Now is also the time to get serious about relationships. And “serious” might mean walking away from a dating relationship that’s good but not great. Some of the most life-shaping decisions you’ll make during this time will be about walking away from good-enough, in search of can’t-live-without. One of the only truly devastating mistakes you can make in this season is staying with the wrong person even though you know he or she is the wrong person. It’s not fair to that person, and it’s not fair to you.

“Who are you dating?” “Do you think he’s the one?” “Have you looked at rings?” It’s easy to be seduced by the romance-dating-marriage narrative. We confer a lot of status and respect on people who are getting married—we buy them presents and consider them as more adult and more responsible.

But there’s nothing inherently more responsible or more admirable about being married. I’m thankful to be celebrating my 10th wedding anniversary this summer, but at the same time, I have a fair amount of friends whose marriages are ending—friends whose weddings we danced at, whose wedding cake we ate, whose rings we oohed-and-aahed over but that have been taken off fingers a long time ago.

Some people view marriage as the next step to happiness or grown-up life or some kind of legitimacy, and in their mad desire to be married, they overlook significant issues in the relationship.

Ask your friends, family members and mentors what they think of the person you’re dating and your relationship. Go through premarital counseling before you are engaged, because, really, engagement is largely about wedding planning, and it’s tough to see the flaws in a relationship clearly when you’re wearing a diamond and you have a deposit on an event space.

I’m kind of a broken record on this. My younger friends will tell you I say the same things over and over when they talk to me about love, things like, “He seems great—what’s the rush?” and, “Yes, I like her—give it a year.” And they’ve heard this one a million times: “Time is on your side.” Really, it is.

4. Give Your Best to Friends and Family

While twentysomethings can sometimes spend a little too much energy on dating and marriage, they probably spend too little energy on friendships and family. That girl you just met and now text 76 times a day probably won’t be a part of your life in 10 years, but the guys you lived with in college, if you keep investing in them, will be friends for a lifetime. Lots of people move around in their 20s, but even across the distance, make an effort to invest in the friendships that are important to you. Loyalty is no small thing, especially in a season during which so many other things are shifting.

Family is a tricky thing in your 20s—to learn how to be an adult out on your own but to also maintain a healthy relationship with your parents—but those relationships are really, really worth investing in. I have a new vantage point on this now that I’m a parent. When my parents momentarily forget I’m an adult, I remind myself that someday this little boy of ours will drive a car, get a job and buy a home. I know that even then it will be hard not to scrape his hair across his forehead or tell him his eyes are looking sleepy, and I give my parents a break for still seeing me as their little girl every once in a while.

5. Get Some Counseling

Twenty-five is also a great time to get into counseling if you haven’t already, or begin round two of counseling if it’s been a while. You might have just enough space from your parents to start digging around your childhood a little bit. Unravel the knots that keep you from living a healthy, whole life, and do it now, before any more time passes.

Some people believe emotional and psychological issues should be solved through traditional spiritual means—that prayer and pastoral guidance are all that’s necessary when facing issues of mental health. I disagree. We generally trust medical doctors to help us heal from physical ailments. We can and should trust counselors and therapists to help us resolve emotional and psychological issues. Many pastors have no training in counseling, and while they care deeply about what you’re facing, sometimes the best gift they can give you is a referral to a therapist who does have the education to help you.

Faith and counseling aren’t at odds with one another. Spiritual growth and emotional health are both part of God’s desire for us. Counseling—like time with a mentor, personal scriptural study, a small group experience and outside reading—can help you grow, and can help you connect more deeply with God.

So let your pastor do his or her thing, and let the person who has an advanced degree in mental health help you with yours.

6. Seek Out a Mentor

One of the most valuable relationships you can cultivate in your 20s is a mentoring relationship with someone who’s a little older, a little wiser, someone who can be a listening ear and sounding board during a high change season. When I look back on my life from 22 to 26, some of the most significant growth occurred as a direct result of the time I spent with my mentor, Nancy.

The best way to find a mentor is to ask, and then to work with the parameters they give you. If someone does agree to meet with you, let it be on their terms. Nancy and I met on Wednesdays at 7 in the morning. I guarantee that was not my preference. But it was what worked for her life, so once a month I dragged myself out of the house in what felt to me like the dead of night. It also helps to keep it to a limited-time period. It’s a lot to ask of someone to meet once a month until the end of time. But a one-year commitment feels pretty manageable for most people, and you can both decide to sign on for another year or not, depending on the connection you’ve made.

7. Be a Part of a Church

Twenty-five is the perfect time to get involved in a church you love, no matter how different it is from the one you were a part of growing up. Be patient and prayerful, and decide that you’re going to be a person who grows, who seeks your own faith, who lives with intention. Set your alarm on Sunday mornings, no matter how late you were out on Saturday night. It will be dreadful at first, and then after a few weeks, you’ll find that you like it, that the pattern of it fills up something inside you.

8. Find a Rhythm for Spiritual Disciplines

Going out into “the real world” after high school or college affects more than just your professional life. Where once you had free time, a flexible schedule and built-in community, now you have one hour for lunch, 10 days max to “skip” work and co-workers who are all over the place in age, stage of life and religion.

In those first few years of work-life, it’s easy to get too busy, too stressed and too disconnected to keep up spiritual habits you may have built in school. Figuring out how to stay close to God and to grow that relationship through activities and disciplines that complement your new schedule is critical for life now—and those habits will serve you for years to come.

One of the best routines I adopted in my 20s was a monthly solitude day. In addition to my daily prayer time, I found I lived better if once a month I took the time to pray, read, rest and write, to ask myself about the choices I’d made in the past month and to ask for God’s guidance in the month to come. Some of the most important decisions I made in that season of life became clear as a result of that monthly commitment.

9. Volunteer

Give of your time and energy to make the world better in a way that doesn’t benefit you directly. Teach Sunday school, build houses with Habitat for Humanity, serve at a food pantry or clean up beaches on Saturdays.

It’s easy to get caught up in your own big life and big plan in your 20s—you’re building a career, building an identity, building for a future. Find some place in your life where you’re building for a purpose that’s bigger than your own life or plan.

When you’re serving on behalf of a cause you’re passionate about, you’ll also connect in a deep way with the people you’re serving with, and those connections can yield some of your most significant friendships.

When you serve as a volunteer, you can gain experience for future careers. Instead of, for example, quitting your banking job to pursue full-time ministry, volunteer to lead a small group, and see where it goes from there. Use volunteer experiences to learn about causes and fields you’re interested in, and consider using your vacation time to serve globally.

10. Feed Yourself and the People You Love

If you can master these things, you’re off to a really great start: eggs, soup, a fantastic sandwich or burger, guacamole and some killer cookies. A few hints: The secret to great eggs is really low heat, and the trick to guacamole is lime juice—loads of it. Almost every soup starts the same way: onion, garlic, carrot, celery, stock.

People used to know how to make this list and more, but for all sorts of reasons, sometime in the last 60 or so years, convenience became more important than cooking and people began resorting to fake food (ever had GU?), fast food and frozen food. I literally had to call my mom from my first apartment because I didn’t know if you baked a potato for five minutes or two hours.

The act of feeding oneself is a skill every person can benefit from, and some of the most sacred moments in life happen when we gather around the table. The time we spend around the table, sharing meals and sharing stories, is significant, transforming time.

Learn to cook. Invite new and old friends to dinner. Practice hospitality and generosity. No one cares if they have to sit on lawn furniture, bring their own forks or drink out of a Mayor McCheese glass from 1982. What people want is to be heard and fed and nourished, physically and otherwise—to stop for just a little bit and have someone look them in the eye and listen to their stories and dreams. Make time for the table, and you’ll find it to be more than worth it every time.

11. Don’t Get Stuck

This is the thing: When you hit 28 or 30, everything begins to divide. You can see very clearly two kinds of people. On one side, people who have used their 20s to learn and grow, to find God and themselves and their dreams, people who know what works and what doesn’t, who have pushed through to become real live adults. Then there’s the other kind, who are hanging onto college, or high school even, with all their might. They’ve stayed in jobs they hate, because they’re too scared to get another one. They’ve stayed with men or women who are good but not great, because they don’t want to be lonely. They mean to find a church, they mean to develop intimate friendships, they mean to stop drinking like life is one big frat party. But they don’t do those things, so they live in an extended adolescence, no closer to adulthood than when they graduated.

Don’t be like that. Don’t get stuck. Move, travel, take a class, take a risk. There is a season for wildness and a season for settledness, and this is neither. This season is about becoming. Don’t lose yourself at happy hour, but don’t lose yourself on the corporate ladder either. Stop every once in a while and go out to coffee or climb in bed with your journal.

Ask yourself some good questions like: “Am I proud of the life I’m living? What have I tried this month? What have I learned about God this year? What parts of my childhood faith am I leaving behind, and what parts am I choosing to keep? Do the people I’m spending time with give me life, or make me feel small? Is there any brokenness in my life that’s keeping me from moving forward?”

Now is your time. Walk closely with people you love, and with people who believe God is good and life is a grand adventure. Don’t get stuck in the past, and don’t try to fast-forward yourself into a future you haven’t yet earned. Give today all the love and intensity and courage you can, and keep traveling honestly along life’s path.

"I'll Remember What Was Written On That Wall"

My stoop.

I got to Fort Myers late on a Saturday night. I was starting work on Monday. I know one person here, in Fort Myers, David. He's my best friend's best friend. It happened to be his birthday that weekend, so he was having people over. He lives about 15 minutes from me. I was tired, and got in much later than I'd planned (go figure), but thought it'd be a good idea to at least stop by. Being new AND in a place like Fort Myers, known more to be a city retire, it was probably the best opportunity to meet young people, like myself.

So I'm guessing that all the young people in the area were all in his apartment. And with the exception of about three of us, they all worked for the same company.

I drove home as the rest continued their night. The road was pretty dark. There were hardly any street lamps, and other cars drove by just as sparingly. It was probably around midnight.

On the drive I was observing the buildings that littered the street as I headed back to my apartment. Burger King, Rita's, a wing place, Target..

Nope. I wasn't in New York anymore. Sure, there wasn't a Walmart, and Targets were tough to get to. But there were young people everywhere. And every kind of food imaginable could be delivered to your doorstep. There was always something to do. And some nights, we didn't even start until 12. And it could all happen as soon as you stepped outside.

I started panicking for a second. WHAT in the world did I just get myself into? Did I thoroughly think this through?

Regardless, I was there. And I was starting Monday.

A close friend of mine, Holly, asked me if it was harder to move to New York or from New York. At the time, I didn't know what to answer. But after thinking about it a bit, I'd definitely say moving back to Florida is one of the hardest and scariest things I've had to do.

Moving to NY was exciting. I had a purpose. I was going to school, and the whole thing was an adventure. Moving back.. meant real life. And reality is always scariest.

But as I keep saying, there's nothing wrong with being afraid. That's what courage is for.

Real Time

Fashion is all about staying a few steps ahead.. Ahead in trends, news, etc. But I have to remember that fashion time is much different than real people time.

Like the whole VS Fashion Show thing, for instance. Totally forgot it was airing today because I read the reviews and saw the photos a couple of weeks ago in WWD.

Or at work, I have to remind myself of what year we're in because we go between the present, 2012, and 2013.

What day is today anyway? Where am I? Wait, what?

QLC

I am officially a quarter of a century old. HOLY. If I said that this is where I thought I'd be at 25, that'd be a lie. And everyone knows I am the WORST liar. While I'm not where I pictured myself in my career nor in my personal life, I'm happy. I'm beyond blessed. And exactly where I'm supposed to be.

Honest Moment

Living in NY is probably the closest thing I've had to a relationship.

Head over heels in the beginning,
get past the honeymoon phase,
then reality hits.
It's not all sunshine and butterflies, yanno,
but you learn to take the good with the bad
because when it's good, it's awesome.
You learn how to compromise.

You get used to his bad habits.

When you think you've had enough,
he reminds you why you've stuck around so long in the first place.
You miss him when he's gone.
He shows and teaches you news things.
He inspires you everyday.

Even when it's over,

you know that it's never really over.

And when all is said and done,
you know you'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

...Or, for wordplay's sake, in a New York minute.

Step #2

Thank you, New York. And Happy November.

A Year in New York from Andrew Clancy on Vimeo.

Haystacks

Haystacks, Claude Monet

These last two weeks have been hectic. Actually, these last two months have been hectic, locking myself in my basement to sew a mini collection for a show, then being cancelled on (it's ok, it happens); to guests almost every weekend since I've gotten back in September; working on checking things off of my NY To-Do List; packing, searching for someone to sublease; and MOST importantly, trying to see everyone before I leave.

I went on one last run in CP, and decided to take the short route. As much as I don't like running, I've grown fond of my little runs, because there's always something fun going on. Central Park has become a haven for me, of sorts, because I think to live in NY and keep your sanity, you have to find the places and those things that make you forget that you're in the city.

As I was saying, I did my short run. I got to Bathesda Fountain, and despite the havoc I've wreaked on my body these past two weeks eating all the foods that are bad for you and NOT working out, I still kept a good pace and wasn't dying by the time I reached that point (especially surprising because it was a little chilly today). I decided to stop anyways. I wanted to make sure to take a moment and look around. Central Park. It's like what you see in movies.

I walked a little further, because I've been really sentimental these days. I was in NY last fall, but I still managed to miss it with school which eliminated any chance of having a real life. Today, the leaves were changing, and with the Nor'easter, there was still a bit of snow left over from that bizarre snowfall. It's like NY knew I was leaving, and wanted to make sure I didn't miss either fall or winter.

I took an art history class in undergrad, and it was one of my favorite classes. I especially enjoy Monet and his light studies. In one series, he painted haystacks and observed how they changed according to the time of day. It made me really think about how I experience things. The only way you can truly experience a city is if you look at it the way he looked at those haystacks.

Check.

The Jenna Taino Saga Continues

About two years ago, I was wandering California, hoping that I would magically know which direction I should steer my life. Empire State of Mind would play on the radio, and I'd take it as a sign, but then that dumb (but catchy) Miley Cyrus song would play immediately after and I'd be right where I started. (I can only blame myself for looking to Top 40 stations for signs.)

Did you know that right after I got my acceptance letter to Parsons, I checked my ufl webmail account, and there were two open positions to teach English in Spain? (If you didn't know, for a while, Spain had been my post-grad Plan A, but things changed, and decided to let them.) As much as I like to think that things happen for a reason, can you imagine how confused I was after I saw that? Really, what did that mean? Was I meant not check my e-mail, or was Spain really supposed to happen, but I missed that opportunity out of neglect? Because if I'd seen that before I got my acceptance letter, oh how things would be different.

Coulda shoula woulda. But since I arrived in NY, not once have I doubted that I made the right decision.

And as similar feelings of anxiety and doubt and uncertainly rise to the surface once again, I know that NY has been good to me, that I've gotten a lot out of this experience, and I've met some amazing people along the way. It's okay to be afraid, because all that means is that you have something to lose.

As I pack up my room, I'm reminded of a quote I found in a book at my favorite secondhand bookstore days before 2010 hit, "Trust eliminates fear."

Know History, Know Self. No History, No Self

Pagsanjan River (taken January 2011)

Going back to Philippines is certainly a humbling experience. To see where my parents grew up and knowing where they are now and how they take care of our family…

It’s amazing.

We picked up my aunt from the airport and ran some errands around Manila. She hadn’t been back since she left in the 60s or 70s. All she said was, “It’s so sad,” and I looked towards her and she was crying.

“This is where we grew up, anak,” my mom said.

It’s silly, but we forget, yanno. Amongst the clutter, and the busyness, and life in general, we forget how far our parents have come.

“You know, your mom and I, we were lucky,” I’ve heard my dad say time and again. Lucky to have arrived in America with at least some higher education, to have arrived here when they did, and to have gotten the jobs that they have.

All that. All that work to make sure my sister and I have more than they did.
Isn’t that what all parents want? For their children to have a better life?

We have it so easy. So good. So if we’re not working for survival, what is it then that our generation is searching for? Why are we still not satisfied?

Maybe it’s self-fulfillment. Identity.

Our parents and grandparents and great grandparents have spent their years just trying to make it, just trying to survive. We don’t face that same struggle, so it’s as if we’re not sure what to do with this liberation enabled by our parents.

I guess we’re trying to figure out where to go from here. As Filipino-Americans we face this both individually and holistically. Looking back at history, through foreign occupation and immigration, we have tried so hard to assimilate into other cultures that we are failing to preserve out own.

Being Filipino-American is moving more towards the latter half of the word. And there’s nothing wrong with being American. I love America. America all day. But you still gotta remember your roots.

As we, the first and second generations (non-immigrants) are getting older, we’ve already begun to lose our culture. How many of us know tagalog? How many of us were adamant about not learning it as kids, arguing that we should speak English because we were in America? How many of us regret that now?

So the next question is: How can we fix it? Part of the solution is pride. I’m not saying you have to be obnoxious about. You don’t have to deck yourself out in your “Pilipinas” gear or sport your Manny Pacquio t-shirt all day errday, or hang your Filipino flag in your car. I’m saying take a second to learn about your history, to sit down and ask your parents about growing up and how their life changed when they got to America.

I’m not trying to start a revolution. But think about it. Once our parents are gone, what happens to the language, the knowledge, and the history if we don’t take the time to learn it?

Baby steps.

So ask. Get some good stories. Do a little research.

Let’s just start there. Let’s make it personal.


*Just a little note: I actually wrote this back in January of this year while on my trip to Phili. I've shared a few stories (and if you've forgotten how it went, feel free to refresh your memory), but I haven't expressed enough all the ways that visit changed me; it has certainly inspired me in all parts of my life. Can't wait to see these ideas come into fruition and to share them with you as they happen. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Paper Lanterns

So you're all caught up. I've been patiently waiting to see what this next step is going to be. In the mean time, I certainly haven't been lounging on my couch and sitting on my hands. I get really anxious in these in between stages. I'm no good at not being busy; I'm used to going, going, going, all the time. And since I've been in limbo, between a dependent and a full fledged, self-sufficient adult, I've invested my time in, well, myself, my career, my future.

While it's not yet time for me to go into all out production, I've decided to at least dip my toe in the water. I've decided to develop a concept and create a collection. I've gathered inspiration images, swatches, bought the fabric, and right now, I'm burying myself in my dungeon and creating patterns, draping and sewing. And I hope you like the result as much as I've enjoyed going through the process.

So here's a glimpse of what's to come:

Center of the World

View from the Empire State Building (taken November 2009)

These past few weeks I've found myself torn. Should I stay, or should I go? Am I ready, or am I wildly unprepared for the next step? The answer to the former is that I still don't know. As for the latter, I'm ready. For what? Well, that is still TBD.

I've come up with a few options, but it seems that once I think I got it figured out, life throws me a curve ball. All I can do is prepare for the most likely possibilities; which ever happens is the option I'm supposed to take.

The possible options I have may or may not leave me in NY. While it may quite possibly be the greatest city on the planet, I am a Southern girl at heart. That's left me thinking about whether or not I'm ready to leave. Sure, I have my complaints about this city, but it's really such a love/hate relationship. Despite the smells, the filth, the crowds, the cost of living, you can't deny the energy here. It's addicting. And right when you're ready to call it quits with the city, right when you think you've had enough, it draws you back in, with brisk Fall air, or the first hints of Spring after a long and grueling Winter; with those crazy nights out, or those classy days at a Broadway. I've once likened it to that unhealthy, dysfunctional relationship with that boy that can just break you down to the point where you're about ready walk to away and go cold turkey. Then the second you gather the gumption to do it, he says or does the right thing that makes you cave and say, "Fine. Ya got me."

January will mark my 2 year anniversary with New York City (on and off, with breaks in the summer). My plan up to this point was to stick it out 2-3 more years, learn the business. I'd get to do all those NY things; explore the city; have a social life. You know, all those things that I didn't get to do while I was at Parsons. Well, since then, I've had the stark realization than even with a job, it's not like I'd be able to afford all of those thing that I'd want to do. I have this theory about people that live in Manhattan (that aren't billionaires). You can have the lifestyle or you have comfort. Most can't afford both. And I, honestly, will always choose comfort.

Lately, I've been thinking that maybe it's like college. Sure, I loved my experience at UF. I still love Gainesville. I miss my friends. It was an unbelievable time. But there came a point when I knew that there was nothing left for me there. It was the right time for me to leave; it was necessary in order for me to go on to the next part of my life.

I've always known that this move wouldn't be a permanent one. As difficult, scary, and sad as it might be.. I'd miss my friends, my roommates, my (awesome) apartment.. maybe it's time to go on to the next, next part of my life.

I guess we'll see.

Over the Rainbow

San Clemente, CA August 2011

Nearly two years ago, I took a trip out west and did a mini tour of the state of California. I began my trip in San Diego, then LA, and took a flight to San Francisco after that. I was doing some soul searching of sorts, looking at schools, and was hoping to find a place that just.. fit.

That was October of 2007. I'd fallen in love with SF, the city, the culture, but ultimately decided that if I wanted to go city, I was going to do THE city, which is what brought me to New York. San Diego was nice, but I needed a place with more energy. And LA. I really wanted to love LA, and wanted to visit with an open mind. I was hoping I'd get that feeling, the one when you just know that something's right. Sadly, no. It was as superficial and pretentious up close as it was from a distance.

Overall, I wasn't sold on southern California. Sure, it was nice, but for me? I just couldn't see it.

But this summer was a game changer.
-The food was fantastic. (They LOVE their avocado. Consequently, now so do I.) The ma and pop stores were out the wazoo. And you know how sometimes little hole in the wall places are a hit or a miss? In CA, I feel like every place we went to was delicious. Not too pricey, unlike NY. The food was fresh, and knowing that it was local made it that much tastier.
-The company was great. I visited some old friends, and met some amazing people along the way.
-And of course, great company makes for awesome adventures.

And while those things make for a memorable trip, I think the selling point was this little town, San Clemente.

San Clemente is located right on the coast, almost smack in the middle, between LA and San Diego. It is a surfer's haven. And what brought me there is nothing other than my dear, old high school friend, Pearson. We managed to remain friends despite going to different colleges. I went to UF, and he was at UCF. And while it was only 2 hours apart, who really keeps in touch with their high school friends these days, anyway? Well, besides me.

Oh, so let me brag about Pearson for a second. He was working at a surf shop called Catalyst in Orlando, where he met some guys from ...lost, who I can only imagine were absolutely smitten by him. So they snatched him up to work for them in CA and the rest is history.

What I loved about San Clemente? Let me tell you:
- I had, hands down, the best burger I have ever had.. EVER. Yes, the Shack Stack is now in second.
- The beach was close. You could see ocean from almost anywhere in the city. I am a Florida girl, after all. And my mom is convinced that I was a dolphin in another life.
- The people were super friendly. The ones I met were incredible; they had this great passion about what they did and life in general. It was refreshing; they just had a very pure outlook on life. While the surf-skate-free spirit-Bob Marley lifestyle may not be for everyone, when people can do what they love, make a career out of a passion, and on top of that, have some of the kindest souls.. Well, what's not to love about that?

It was this imaginary place, where the sun was literally always shining, and the people had a lifestyle that you forget about when you get too caught up in the hustle and bustle of your own.

It's Florida without the humidity..
With the exact opposite attitude of LA..
But still close enough to get your city fix.

It's perfect.

Meltdown

"One of the most tragic aspects of London’s meltdowns is that we need this ruined generation if Britain is ever to feel prosperous and safe again. If there are no jobs for today’s malcontents and no means to exploit their skills, then the UK is in graver trouble than it thinks."

Like I said, too much free time to run amuck.

Read more here

Overeducated & Underemployed: The Dilemma of the Millenials

2009 University of Florida Graduate, Bachelor of Science in Psychology with a Minor in Spanish, Summa Cum Laude



Everyone told you that higher education was the key to a bright future. What they failed to tell us that the economy would plummet, and a college degree wouldn't guarantee employment.

So while I once again find myself in the post-grad limbo, right smack in between college and the real world, I've discussed with several friends of mine the reasons why my peers and I have taken the time to soul search; to find our passion in life. What factors have afforded this luxury?

1. Blame Our Parents
We were spoiled.. as a generation. Our parents acted out of survival. They did things because they had to. Then, after they fulfilled their basic needs, they just got more. They gave us more. What parent doesn't want their child to have more they had? Every parents wants a better life for their children, providing them with things they could only dream of when they were a child. So they did. They gave us what we needed, and then some. They provided us with the essentials: food, water, shelter. And once those needs are met, what comes after? Happiness. No longer working for survival, we then seek a self-fulfillment.

Older generations hate us for this. They think we're have a sense of entitlement, as if to say, "We did all the work. Why do they get to be happy?" Well, sorry, dude. We're happy with having enough. We've learned from your mistakes and you're miserable. It ain't all about the money.

2. This Economy Blows
We go to college. We graduate. The economy sucks. All the people that were supposed to retire, don't. Consequently, no jobs open up. As a result, we return to school. Or Teach for America. Anything to postpone our entrance into the real world. We hoped that by the time either are over, two things would happen: (1) We become a more desirable candidate, and (2) the job market will have improved.

And in the mean time, all that gave us was time-- time to think about what we want to do with our lives. We were raised to believe that we could grow up to be anything we want to be. (Well, since a month ago, apparently anything but an astronaut.) So it wasn't a matter of what can I do. It became a matter of what do I want to do.


So it's not our fault we have these crazy ideas, and then follow them. What do we got to lose? We have too much time on our hands. Too much time to think. And we think, yanno. Critically. We have degrees to prove it. Just not jobs.

Not a Baby Step of Faith

This summer, nearly done, has been a lot about goodbyes and new beginnings. I've graduated (again), but this time with something that I 100% believe in. I feel good.. happy with my decision to abandon psychology and go to Parsons. I'm scared. Scared out of my freakin' mind. Graduating from UF, there was the pressure to figure things out. Now there's the pressure to make it happen; to succeed.

Some of my friends are in the same boat. Whether it was Parsons or grad school, several of us are on the job hunt. We've decided what direction we'd like our lives to take, but the time table in which that happens is beyond our control.

So while many of us are practicing patience in this wretched economy, other friends are re-thinking the path they're on. And while I was perusing through friends' blogs, I came across a post from a friend who is anxious to take that leap.

"I'm terrified that I would completely fail, become completely broke, and have to move back home but at this step in my life, the idea of me never figuring out and always wondering "what if" terrifies me even more than failure." -Ayeh


That part really resonated with me. And it reminded me of one of those voiceovers that Meredith does in Grey's Anatomy. I first took heart to this quote back in undergrad.

Here's the back story: It was the end of my freshmen year, and it was time for tryouts for UF Cheerleading. They were choosing the team for the following year. It sounds silly, because it's cheerleading, but it's something that I desperately wanted to be a part of. I didn't make it the year before, and I had been stunting and doing privates to keep up my skills. Tryouts finally rolled around, I was sitting in front of the building, and I freaked out. I didn't go in. I didn't even get out of the car. I told my friend that I didn't want to go in and to keep driving.

I never expected myself to do that. To not try. I remember going home, crawling into my bed and pulling the covers over my head, the way I did when I was a child and unhappy. All I thought to myself, "Now I have to wait a whole 'nother year." I wanted to go back in time, and do that whole day over again. I was hoping it was a bad dream. Really? Didn't even go up to the door? I decided that I'd never allow myself to do that again.

I found this quote shortly after. (The specific quote is at the very end, but I wanted to share the entire thing.) I typed it in an extra large font on my Xanga, and wrote it on a post-it and stuck it on my wall, as a reminder to never let that happen again. Because being a coward will not get you any where. And while I went on to have the greatest college experience, next time I may not be so lucky. Second chances come few and far between. So it's okay to be afraid. But that's what courage is for. So thank you, Grey's for the reminder.

"A couple hundred years ago Benjamin Franklin shared with the world the secret of his success. Never leave that 'til tomorrow, which you can do today. This is the man who discovered electricity; you'd think we'd pay more attention to what he had to say. I don't know why we put things off, but if I had to guess it has a lot to do with fear. Fear of failure, fear of pain, fear of rejection. Sometimes the fear if just of making a decision. Because... What if you're wrong? What if you make a mistake you can't undo? Whatever it is we're afraid of, one thing holds true: That by the time the pain of not doing the thing gets worse than the fear of doing it, it can feel like we're carrying around a giant tumor. And you thought I was speaking metaphorically... 'The early bird catches the worm.' 'A stitch in time saves nine.' 'He who hesitates is lost.' We can't pretend we haven't been told. We've all heard the proverbs, heard the philosophers, heard our grandparents warning us about wasted time; heard the damn poets urging us to seize the day. Still, sometimes we have to see for ourselves. We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today's possibility under tomorrows run until we can't anymore. Until we finally understand for ourselves what Benjamin Franklin meant. That knowing is better than wondering. That waking is better than sleeping. And that even the biggest failure, even the worst most intractable mistake, beats the hell out of not trying. " -Meredith, Grey's Anatomy

#prayfornorway

After a bombing in Oslo and a massacre at a youth retreat, more than 90 lives were claimed by a single madman's rampage in quiet and unsuspecting Norway.

Back at the retreat, located about 20 miles from the capital on an island called Otoeya, a man dressed as a police man entered. The youth thought it was a security check in conjunction to the bombing. Instead, the man opened fire, claiming victim after victim for two hours.

After reading this, you can't help but feel sad.. for these young lives that were taken, for their families, for the state of the world in general.

As I was reading, I came across this quote from one of the campers that really caught me:

"I laid under the bed for two hours and then the police smashed a window and came in. It seems kind of unreal, especially in Norway. This is not something that could happen here, this is something you hear about happening in the U.S."

Empathetic to the entire nation of Norway, because we, too, as a country have mourned too many young lives lost, I can't help but wonder how the world sees us.

Campus shootings, for instance.. one of my international friends said that it's something they expect to happen in the United States, and that it doesn't happen anywhere else.

I love America. And being American. But do we seem that barbaric? Brawn over brain. Is that the "American way"?

Just a thought.

Read more here and here

Run, Forrest

I have never liked running with my iPod.

The headphones bother me. And I hate knowing how long I've been running, while I run. Every time the song changes, knowing that each is around 3-4 minutes, I think "Crap. This is only third song. I've only been running 6 minutes!?!" It totally messes me up mentally, man. It's the same reason why I cover the time and distance on a treadmill; and why I prefer running in circles rather that seeing the end straight ahead.

So while it's partly a mental game, it's also my zen. I've never been very good at meditating, the way people do to "clear their mind". I can never seem to think of nothing. I only think more.

It's probably the cheerleader in me (okay, it's definitely the cheerleader in me) but all I do is think, "breathe in: 1-2-3-4; out 5-6-7-8". I get to think about my breathing, and that's it. And it's enough to distract me from all of my other thoughts.

I let my stride and my breathing find its harmony. I let my internal metronome run (no pun intended). And when I listen to my body and allow it to find it's own rhythm.. Well, it's just a wonderful feeling.

Nerding Out

Most other social media outlets have experienced success partly because of their ability to be linked to Facebook. Twitter, Tumblr, Yelp, even that Instagram thing I think. Well, at least that's what I assume, because I see 'em on my Newsfeed. Well, why would FB help, in a way, other types of social media? I'm no expert, but I think it's because those other outlets are only part of FB's social media game. FB provides a full social network. Not just statuses. Not just pictures.

There is no doubt that Fb is king of social networking. At least for now. But I hate those stupid games - like, seriously. Wthell is Farmville about? Really?

It started out as this cool exclusive thing, all about connecting people. But then they started adding bumper stickers, and silly games, and other invitations that I choose to ignore. It's not really why I joined FB.

Some people don't like Facebook. Sometimes I think it's too much. Like, I don't care and don't always need to know exactly where and what you're eating. (I also hate that it's called the "Newsfeed". (1) The word "news" is beginning to lose it's meaning because of it. It's a joke. And it makes us look like idiots because (2) it is hardly news.) But the pros outweigh the cons.

It's a great tool, and doesn't replace a friendly phone call, or a lunch date, but it helps to stay in touch and keep up with old friends. (Of course, it also helps really immature and nosy people stir up a lot of unnecessary drama, but you win some, you lose some. And it'd happen either way. So don't blame FB.) It's just another way to tell my friends that I love 'em and I miss 'em. And really, what's wrong with showin' a little Fb love?

On another side note, and to their credit, they did manage to create virtual flirting, with the "poke". Hilarious. But totally okay. It was created by college kids, afterall. And what's life if it ain't a little fun, yanno? Can't take it too seriously.
(If you haven't seen Social Network you should. I don't care if you hate fb. Like it or not, it's changed life as we know it. And is a huge part of our whole generations "thing".)

A couple other inadequacies? The new picture viewing thing is a little annoying. And the quality isn't great, but you just learn to not print from Fb, and understand that it's just for sharing purposes. Fb chat isn't reliable and it's messages are a bit messy. But also not too big a deal, bc I just use gchat and gmail. Both much more accessible on my phone.

But that's the point I'm getting to. Overall, Fb does the trick. Sure there are a couple of things that are little.. ehhhh, but only annoying at worst. It gets the job done. And does exactly what it was built to do.

But now, with Google+.. Well, we already know Google owns everything. Most people have Gmail accounts. I love Gchat. It's what I use when I wanna get away from the Fb chats. Google is already linked to my phone and is Android friendly. It's less cluttered, but then again, once upon a time so was Fb. It owns Picasa, so pictures are supposed to be of higher quality. It's a bit more user friendly when it comes to organizing your friend groups. They decided to go with "Stream" rather than "Newsfeed." And it doesn't have just video chat. Group chat. (Ciao Skype and Oovoo.) Google even owns this blog.

So basically, it is a Fb upgrade.

For Facebook's sake, I hope it can keep up. I'm sure they regret (the rumored?) smear campaign but ya gotta give credit where credit's due.

They were just a bunch of college kids who didn't know they were creating social media/networking as we know it - defining our generation as one that is constantly connected.

Makes you feel for them, a little, yanno. They created the monster that is Facebook, but how do you compete with Google?

I'm all for underdogs. And I really like the idea that these guys could've been people I went to school with. But I also really like convenience.

I find this way toooo interesting. I'm such a geek.

Love Conquers All

Whether you're straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, asexual, WHATEVER.. NY becoming the 6th state to pass equal marriage rights all comes down to one thing: love.

And in any and all forms, it is undeniably beautiful.

Now, that's something worth celebrating.

Devil is in the Details

Design school can drive you mad if you let it. Sometimes I wish I could just give my brain a rest, for just a sec, and not pick everything apart.

You realize that every decision, every detail is intentional. Because everything is supporting a concept. It might be a restaurant, a book, a wedding - everything from the menu, the lighting; the font, the binding; the venue, the flowers - it all returns to a single focus. A concept's success lies in its clarity, whose "big picture" is carried by the execution of these details.

My senses are constantly on overload. It's exhausting.

History in the Making

This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave. -Elmer Davis

Evil deserves no celebration, even in death. Instead, honoring and remembering those who have given their lives and sacrificed so much for this day.

Nothing Less than Butterflies

I was having one of those great catch up calls with one of my oldest and dearest friends, and the subject of relationships came up. He told me that I was too picky, and that what I want doesn't exist.

I tried to explain that it's not about this perfect person. But I just can't help that I want to be crazy in love. I've watched way too many Disney movies as a child, and listen to way too much country to want anything less. I told him this:

Being content is different from being happy.
Being happy is different from being in love.
And being in love is different from being inspired.

And I will always opt to wait for the latter.

Insane in the Membrane

We're in the middle of finals, and I was chatting with one of my fellow classmates and had one of those AHA! moments. As we sat in the studio, delirious from lack of sleep, I had a very important realization.

There are three significant experiences that have completely warped my perspective of.. Well, let me break it down:

(1) Cheerleading - Body Image



You constantly compare yourself to the girls around you, with their chiseled legs, ripped abs, and dimples on their back, and become worried that you'll be too big for guys to throw you in the air, because nobody wants "the Tank" to be quoted after their first name. Even if you didn't care at first, you hear other girls freak out over an oreo and run 3 miles because of it, counting calories, and hear them ask, "Are you really gonna eat that?" All of a sudden, you're just as obsessed, and you look in the mirror and see every flaw in your body.

You're fine compared to real world people, but by cheerleading standards, meehhh. Could use a little work.

That's what goes through our head. Isn't that f'ed up? Tearing apart our self image when we should be celebrating it, because 20 years from now, we're gonna look back our photos and say, "Damn. I looked good," and wonder why we never appreciated ourselves back then.

(2) New York - Prices



You can expect lunch to cost at least $10, and dinner to be around $30, if you're lucky. Handing over the rent check is probably the most depressing day of the month; that's a mortgage in most places, and/or acres of land. (And that's also a lot of shopping and travelling) I get home, and I'm ready to say, "It's on me," just because I am so excited. It's ridiculous.

(2) Parsons - Sleep



We take naps at 11:30PM. I have conversations with one of my best friends, Lexy, who does the morning news and has to be at work at 5AM, and I'll be about ready to head to bed. They finally decided to keep the school open 24 hours for finals (about freakin' time) and several of my friends stayed until 6 in the morning, stayed home to shower, and came back. Athan walked in and asked (rhetorically, perhaps... PERHAPS), "Can I go home? I'm going to go home, sleep for an hour, take a shower, and come back. Can I do that?"

I often find myself asking that question. "Is it okay if I go home?" or "Can I sleep just for a little bit?" I remember when I first realized how messed up I was during my first semester. The conversation went something like this:

Friend: "Are you okay?"
Me: "I'm so tired. I don't know why."
Friend: "How long did you sleep?"
Me: "I slept 5 hours!" (I said that proudly, yanno.)

Seriously? Five hours is a good nights rest, and getting three to four hours of shut eye is still considered fortunate.



MAN. I am MESSED up.

All work an no play makes Jenna a dull girl.

For the last few months, I've found myself past the point of homesick, and was getting used to the idea of just being over New York. Don't get me wrong - I think it's this great city that's unlike any other place, but I guess the best way to explain how I've been feeling is by comparing it to Gainesville. Gainesville is this quintessential college town, perfect for the time I went there, but when undergrad ends, you know that it's time to move on. I was beginning to think NY was becoming that for me, especially with school ending soon. It's very much a transition place. I never expected to live here long term. But I didn't think I'd be over it so quickly.

I just started to really miss my family, my friends. The sunshine. The beach.

Most people know how much I loathe the cold, and this past winter was especially brutal and especially long. I started to tally all the cons for NY: the dirty subway, the garbage on the sidewalk, the scary homeless people, and the general filth and pungent smells.

I kept trying to remember all the reasons why I fell in love with this city, but the cons of NY plus the pros of Florida were just beginning to be too much.

I try to maintain a balance between school and non-school life. I was really hoping that it'd be better this semester, especially since I've been considering moving afterwards, but it's tough. The program is so short and so intense that at some points, even when you spend every waking moment, eating, breathing, smelling work, you know that it's just not enough time.

We'll average about 3 or 4 hours of sleep a night, stay at school until 2AM. And who has time to eat? We get so busy we forget. So we either don't eat, or eat terribly - like dinner from a vending machine: pop tarts, peanut M&Ms, and strawberry fruit snacks to cover all major food groups.

It's that "I'll sleep when I'm dead" mentality. Admirable, but exhausting.

So that's life usually, but this weekend was.. enlightening.

Two of my friends came up, and I just love visitors, especially from home. They keep me sane. Anyways, we've been talking about this trip for quite some time, and I pretty much knew going into this weekend that staying in and doing homework wasn't going to be an option. And it seemed to be exactly what I needed.

I was trying so hard to think of all the reasons why I loved NY when I should have been experiencing it instead. The millions of things that there are to do. The restaurants. These secret little places, and the places everyone knows about. The art. The architecture. The people.

THE PEOPLE. Can't lie. People are just generally way cooler and more interesting here.

Okay, NY. I still heart you.

Teeter Totter

Less than six weeks until graduation, and I am stressed as ever. Projects out the wahzoo, and post(post?)-grad plans rearing its ugly head, my brain is in a frenzy, but I seem to be lacking the energy to outrightly panic.

And while this time around, I'm much more focused and more certain of what I want, I still face the decision of which direction I'd like to go. There are less paths, and they are much narrower. But I still have make choices. And this is what plagues me. It's the decisions that make me anxious. Because I can see where I want to be, but I also want to remain open to life's possibilities.

It's a tricky balance.

Home, Sweet Home

I peered out the window of the airplane at Jax's poor excuse for a skyline. It can't begin to compare to New York's, but it's home. And nothing can compare to that.

"A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous." -Coco Chanel

Right now, I'm 3 for 3. Three seasons. Three MBFWs.

It's funny how Fashion Week once seemed like this distant, untouchable thing - only seeing it through magazines, and never imagining that I would actually be here, seeing that white runway, feeling the lights, watching these gorgeous clothes on make believe creatures float by.

There to witness the tents go up in Bryant Park for the last time, and present for the inaugural season at Lincoln Center last spring - not too bad. Not too bad at all.

Lost in Translation

Bridgette is my Construction 3 teacher. Short, curly blonde hair that reminds me of old-school Madonna, pinkish-reddish lipstick, leopard print glasses and a French accent.. She is adorable! Adorable, but a little (a lot) scattered, and sometimes hard to follow. She'll go over one point, then have to back track, and say "Oui, I forgot.." and we'll all be lost.

She was explaining intersecting pleats, and teaching us how to make the pattern, and towards the end, she was folding the paper and slashing and folding and this and that, and we had no idea what was going on. It looked like a big wad of paper and she goes, "And that's it" (include French accent). We were bewildered. Everyone was standing on their stools to get a better look, iPhones poised to take pictures, because apparently we were supposed to have understood what just happened by that point? But mostly, everyone was wide eyed and seemed to be just as confused as I was. I couldn't help but laugh.

Classic moment.

Jet Lag or Insomnia? Or Just Plain Crazy?

It's the first week of my final semester, and I am in turmoil over what's to come. Afraid. Anxious. Excited. All of the aforementioned. No more school to delay this port to adulthood and real life. Lots of big girl decisions in the next few months. Could change my life. And I think I'm gonna let it.

Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens

Brooklyn Bridge Park


Right now, I miss:
Honey Wheat Bread
Going to the pool in February
Feeling my nose and my toes

I really, really don't like:
Walking around in arctic temperatures

But I LOVE:
The option to walk everywhere and public transportation
The change in seasons (Fall and Spring are just beautiful)
Having ANY type of food delivered to my doorstep
The feeling that everyone around you is there for the same reason:
To make it happen

Gilligan (and the Skipper too)

Underground River, Palawan, Puerto Princesa, Philippines


We woke up extra early to go to the Underground River. There were 20+ of us in the van and about 18 of us had flights that afternoon. (This is will important information later.) We get to the docking area after a two hour drive, so it's around 9 or 10. Our tour group is pretty far down the list, so we decide that it's a good time to eat lunch so that we don't waste time. We walk to the resort that provided our lunch, and walk back, hoping it's time for us to board.

Apparently some boatmen are refusing to go because of the waves, and to slow things down even more, they're only allowing four people to a boat rather than the usual eight. With the first of our flights at 5:30, our guide is saying there's a chance we might not go. Thousands of miles to see this Underground River, and he's saying we might not go?! Well, my mom had a few words for him. Others agreed, and I'm sure were thinking the same thing, but still.. inappropriate.

After a bit of a wait, and lots of uncertainty, we all make it to see the Underground River. And it was incredible. Beautiful.

But the real adventure came afterwards. The ride over was already a little rocky. And the trip back, well, it was getting past the break that was most tricky.

The boatmen kept anchoring the boats closer to the cliffs, so fighting the waves both from the shore and the side of the mountain. They'd run towards the ocean, but the boats kept coming back. Some were filling with water. Another broke down, and just kind of sat there. With it getting worse, we were wondering if we were ever going to get off that island and make our flight. My dad and uncle, former and present boatmen, respectively, had to help get those boats back in the ocean.

Well, we made it on ours. We were the last of our tour group that had a flight to catch. We jumped out of the boat and into the van that was taking us back to our hotel. It was 3-something. We had a two hour drive. And the van that was taking us could only fit 3 more people, leaving my mom, my aunt and my uncle behind. We just crossed out fingers and hoped they'd make it back in time. The three of us, my dad, my great aunt and I took van number one, and were going to pack everything and meet them at the airport.

It was about 5:30 when we got to the hotel. We packed up all our stuff and headed to the airport. Our flight was at 6. We checked in our bags. But problem: We were still missing 3 people. We told the airport staff they were on the way; that they were close. Five 'til, and we had about given up. It was the last flight out for the day, and we'd have to wait until around 10am the next to fly out. It wouldn't have been a big deal, except for the next day was Tuesday, Balikbayan Day at my church, where we'd meet the Executive Minister. Just as we folded and as the airport staff walked out to get out luggage off the plane, we saw it. The oversized van came steaming in, and they we caused a whole commotion and they called to the staff, telling them to leave our stuff on the plane. We ran through like madmen. And ran through plane, to our seats. At the back of the plane. Last row. Everyone staring.

Well, I wanted a more exciting trip.

No Man is an Island

Snake Island, Bohol, Philippines


We started the day thinking we'd be going to the Underground River, but since the tide was too high, they weren't letting people go there. Change of plans: We were going to go snorkeling and island hopping instead.

We got to the place where the boats were docked, and genius! I forgot the battery for my camera! It's sitting in the charger, and I packed it up in a hurry. Anyways, we resolved my absentminded-ness, and continued our trip. First thing: snorkeling in the reefs. Pretty freakin' awesome. Now, this is more like it. We finished up there, and the boat left for Snake Island, named for the serpentine shape of its shoreline. So we're cruisin', then click-click-click. The motor stopped. We're in the middle of the sea. Another little boat passed us, stared, then turned around and our boatman throws and rope over and we were towed the rest of the way to the island. Well, we got there. Hopefully, this will be fixed or they'll have sent another boat for us by the time we finished our lunch.

We got to Snake Island and were greeted by starfish and delicious food. Some people on our tour sat and let their food digest, taking a break from all the swimming, others hopped back in the water, or strolled along the shore. I dug around for some little sand dollars, figured I could do something with 'em. Our guide tells us that it's time to go to the last island so we should head back to the boat. They tried to start it. Nope. That's a no-go, sir. Remember how we hoped they would've fixed this problem by the time lunch was over? Yeah. That didn't happen. So we sat there. My dad took a nap on the sand. A solid 15-20 minutes later, the guide tells us to walk back, and that we'd have to wait for a new boat? Really? Wtheck? Nice job, guide. Disgruntled, we mosey our way back, and jump over and limbo under the other tethered boats. We weren't so upset about being stuck on this beautiful island. We were on vacation. What else were we going to do, anyway? We were just kind of annoyed with our guide at this point. He probably should've bought us all massages. One hour later, and we're on boat #2. Relaxed on the first ride over, half of our tour didn't bother to zip up our life jackets. This ride, hah! With the waves getting bigger, and the sky getting darker, coupled with the pitter patter of the engine, I looked around then made sure my jacket was zipped and tied. And every time the boat started to make that low hum, our eyes widened, not sure if it'd stop again. We looked up to our guide for reassurance. He was asleep.

So you'd think that's the end of our island troubles, don't you? Nope. We still gotta whole 'nother day to cover.