raindrops falling on my head...

this year, 2008, has been a very hard year for me.
transition is never a good thing.
transition = stress.
i've never been a huge fan of major life changes,
yet major life changes are my life.
...so i guess they've ironically been a big fan of me.
it feels like i have this formula worked out for change or something,
yet it isn't quite working this time -- not really, because part of the
"formula" is that i adjust to this place FOR A YEAR. but face it, i'll be here a lot longer than that. i don't like to think i'm bitter... or frustrated... yet i've not really been that fun of a person at times this year. i want to be happy and believe that everything will be amazing, but as much as i'd like to believe i've moved on, i haven't, and i find it hard to be. one nice thing about facing this thing of major life changes more than once is that i understand my patterns of coping with said change -- for instance, i understand that i am slow to consider new people my friends when i move to new places -- because my definition of "friendship" is very refined... friendship is more than having met a person -- it's knowing someone... and getting along with them/understanding them on some level. i also understand that i value all my friendships a LOT... and tend to keep them as a safety net -- probably why i'm on facebook so often, and why it bugs me when no one attempts to show me that i exist in their memory for days at a time.
...yet, following my same "patterns" i'll move on sometime in the next semester and next year I'll make new friends who will be my "best friends" until we part ways. there are exceptions to these patterns... but right now i just feel like this is my freshman year of high school all over again... except i'm older, less stupid, and have just a bit more to stress over in life.

scratchy throats and artichokes

so... i actually have nothing to say about artichokes, except that they DO taste good... especially a well made artichoke dip on chips -- superb. but that's not really the purpose of my writing... i'm just really tired and can't think logically... and my throat hurts really bad... and i'm really tired and not pleased with how my day was spent. it was not the way a saturday -- my first REAL day of break, since i am finally home was supposed to be spent. and i'm just kind of disappointed, wiped, and have no reason to stop being lethargic -- since my sister is convinced i am continuously in a state of lethargy -- except maybe to lash out in frustration at life.

...the beginning of the end...

i guess i never really realized how fast this year would progress -- it's already december and in no time we'll have finals. life is pretty crazy -- full of hecticity -- ... i don't have that many written finals, actually only two, but i have three art classes which means three final projects, and i'm just starting them. it's scary to have so many assignments to do at once, but it's also nice -- i don't have to spend hours and hours studying for everything... i just have to create art... and that's a whole lot more pleasing. for digital tools i have to photograph my work and do stuff to it... so i might post some of it up here... i made a flash album of some stuff from high school, but i don't know how to put it on here... because it's interactive and the whole post thing didn't seem to accept flash files.
what's up with me? well, in the last week i went on a whole roller coaster ride of mixed feelings -- my roommates want to move out so they can have a double... (i'll miss them so much...)... and so i had to find new roommates in the course of three days... and then on the last day after i had found people to move in with me, i found out that my best friend down the hall's roommate was leaving biola cuz of financial stuff... but it was basically too late to do anything -- or actually, i really just didn't have the energy to deal with potential drama and sign a ton more paperwork. (i really don't like being forced to make last minute decisions. CHOOSING to be last minute when everything needing to be done is in my court, is a whole different matter, because that's like planning things to be spontaneous, which is NOT true spontaneity. if that made any sense at all.)

contentment and desire

this week has been filled with conference sessions, all dealing with "sex and the soul." that was the topic biola chose for its annual torrey conference which i, being a student here, am required to attend. so far i have been to eight of the ten sessions with two more tomorrow. i thought it would be good to write and process all i have been hearing and contemplating through this time. i really appreciated most of what the speakers had to say -- the only complaint would be in the way some things were said, in ways that i found unneccesary or that i disagreed slightly with the way an idea was presented. Don't take this to mean that I disagreed with the messages they were trying to get across to us -- i totally did. i've heard those messages my whole life, or at least most of them. the sessions dealing with homosexuality i had only had covered for me more recently in my ethics class at faith academy. the section, however, that spoke the most to me was the section this morning about emotional chastity. that really is a difficult topic for women. every woman desires to be loved and delighted in, and when we find men who are willing to be our friends and who we find "delighting" in us, we often find ourselves (or i do, maybe i should be more careful and not umbrella things so frequently), especially if we already had a pre-disposition to like the guy, taking ownership of him. To our friends we call him "my guy" and become possessive. The possessivity takes hold in our minds and becomes an obsession. Soon "my guy" becomes more to me than a friend emotionally while outwardly still remaining as "just my friend" and in the meantime, guys, clueless as they tend to be, have no idea what's going on... and if that man goes off and finds himself a girlfriend (we're always JUST the friend, afterall), then we find ourselves crushed beyond belief, because we have to emotionally break up with him... and again, the guy is totally clueless to this and doesn't understand why him getting a girlfriend injured your friendship. So... that wasn't totally what the speaker was saying about emotional chastity, but that kind of scenario is what the talk reminded me of. oh! and if you identify with that, listen to the song "Boys with Girlfriends" by meiko....

When I first met you I knew you were the one
'Til you took me home and I met her
She had your boxers on
She was listening to your song
And I thought right then that you had everything

But I knew she was jealous from the start
Yeah
I knew she was jealous from the start

'Cause I know better not to be friends with boys with girlfriends
Oh
I know better than that
I know better
You play the victim and I'll be the bad guy
I know better than that
I know better

Oh oh oh oh
Oh oh

Oh oh oh oh
Oh oh

We started hanging around after nine
I could've sworn that I was yours
You looked at me and said, "It's a little too late for bed"
We went to the hotel and talked about everything

But I knew she was jealous from the start
Yeah

...etc.
I knew she was jealous from the start

...anyway... so... to go to the actual label of this post...
we are told to be content where we are, yet there is the constant desire for relationship and intimacy... and despite the conference, i don't really feel the question of how to live a healthy and balanced life with those two things... doesn't desire show a lack of contentment because we are wanting something more than that which we have? and if we are too content, then how will we ever branch out and become dynamic women who men will want to marry?
just some thoughts...

jen

people are and will be people

so many thoughts have laboured my mind [and caused me to write with the british "u" also, apparently...] lately. i've gone from mind boggling perplexed-ness to wanting to write a novel about my life to... everything in between. when will someone invent a mind printer? i want one. i write stories in my head but cannot get them down on paper quickly enough for them to flow as well as they would have had i been able to copy them down precisely as they were first thought. speaking and writing always seem to interrupt the delicate process of thought. i guess the whole "i want to write a book on my life story" thing deals with a frustration that so many people know so little about me here... i hate that i have to build who i am for people from the ground up again, because they didn't grow up knowing me... or get to know people who already knew me. i don't like starting again, because it's so much work. i want people to be people... who i can just sit down and have a relaxed conversation with. i don't want to destroy you... my expectations are nothing greater than that i would love to have deep and meaningful discussions with people... or even just normal discussions, but without the fronts, the walls, the politeness... the politically correct way to be "civil." don't be civil. be yourself. i'd rather be myself than pretend to be someone i'm not... i'd rather be unkempt and disheveled than spend hours trying to give myself an unnatural beauty. i'm willing to meet you halfway to your level, will you attempt to come at least halfway to mine? if we meet in the middle, then maybe we can start to understand one another. if i wrote my life story, however, i would become detached from my life, and become the outside observer. that would be weird. unless i said "i"... but i almost think i would appreciate pretending to be an outsider... so i could experience my life from the outside, nearly. [obviously not truly since one can never be completely objective about oneself]
on that note, it's fascinating to me to watch the levels of recognition as they hit me. when i see someone for the first time, the impression i am given of them deals merely with outside observations... they are but plastic, though they move and speak. the more i know someone, the more other information goes into play with how i see that person... i begin to see personality, dreams, hopes, ambitions... i begin to see more of the whole picture, and a person is painted before my eyes. it's fascinating.
though i like that word far too immensely.

Tea and Sympathy?

I am so confused right now.

concerning a dialogue

it has been absolutely amazing (words can't describe, thus that one must for now do) being at Biola and taking part in the art program. my whole life, i have taken what i was told and done it. i stayed within the lines like a good child wanting to impress someone with her coloring skills. it scared me to death to do anything that would displease anyone, especially those above me. and though that isn't inherently bad, it turned me into a machine, following orders and doing things because i should or because they were right. i despised conflict and was unwilling to express my views or even take the time to collect my thoughts and decide what my views were, lest i offend someone or get into an argument. i was very much like a doormat, in every sense that a doormat entails. ...but i don't like it when people are doormats, always consenting, not having a backbone, not having a voice, but relentlessly relenting to another person's whims, and agreeing with another person's views, because that's safe... so why should i be a doormat, and a voice silenced by fear of what others think of me? perhaps that is why i am delighting so much in biola, because here i cannot be without a voice. as an artist, my art is worth nothing unless it has something to say. anyone can sit and stare at a chair for hours and draw it, but that doesn't mean it has a message. where is the meaning in the drawing of the chair if there is no point but that it is a chair? is the drawing just a motion, an exercise? or is it an extension of one's soul? in some sense, from all art can be derived meaning, especially when the art is the result of an outpouring of emotion, which to me has always been what art was... and is why i can call music and poetry also art, because to be true to themselves, they must be driven by an emotional experience. it both excites and scares me to be entering this program. being an art major forces me to think deeply about things, and to discuss them in my art. i look forward to the transformation from someone so accepting of what is thrown at me to someone who really cares enough to constantly ponder and really take a look at the issues of life and Christianity. I love God, but what does it mean to love him? what does it mean to really serve him? i guess it's also a journey into being more constantly genuine, true to my faith, and true to who I was made to be. It's a difficult journey, filled with unknowns and a lack of pat answers, but it's also a journey that will hold significance and at least some semblance of fulfillment. it will help me to begin to understand myself, my world, my God, and my belief system in a far deeper way. if i tell you that i chose art over elementary education or some other major because it was "harder," I don't intend to demean the other path of study. instead, it simply says that doing art pushes me outside of the box and has no right answers (a hard concept for me), whereas most other fields of study that have intrigued me (like elementary education) do have right answers, and wouldn't push me outside the box quite as much.
bueno, this one-sided conversation was prompted by a highly fascinating lecture i just attended... from a photographer/social worker/whatever guy, though the thoughts written have been mulling in my head for probably a week or so now, since my first "1st year seminar: art" class.... and thought it was about time to write them out.

weekend at home

it's surreal for me, an mk, to go "home" for the weekend. it's funny because i talked to one of my RAs on friday before leaving for "home" and told her about my plans... and she asked where "home" was for me, because obviously i couldn't fly to the philippines for the weekend... so i explained that "home" this year was Pasadena, since that's where my parents are living right now... but next year, "home" will change, because my parents will be back in the philippines... i guess "home" will be at some friend or relatives place. it won't be MY home per se, as in not really where my parents are which has always defined "home" in the past, but it will be a place of refuge and belonging away from school. i really don't know what God will have in place for me next year when i lack that nearness of "home," but I trust that he will provide someplace to be an escape for me.

a new place, a new life

i feel in a poetic mood this night, though perhaps my thoughts will not flow as poetically as i might hope. biola, the place where i now eat, sleep, learn, and dine has been an amazing experience for me. i rather dislike when people ask how i am doing, because i don't know what answer i should give. the "expected" answer is "good"... and sometimes i prefer that answer even when the truth is much deeper, because i don't always appreciate it when people show pity towards me... and i often overstate emotions anyway. it's not a bad thing to be tired when i've had 9 hours of class in a day... that's more than i'd get in high school!... but it's not extremely necessary to make people feel sorry for me because of my insane schedule. after all, i did choose it, did i not? but even beyond that, i'm at a point right now, and i'm not sure whether this is a good or bad thing, but i'm at a point where it doesn't matter to me that i am busy and haven't chosen much of a social life, because i'm here in college to study, to learn, to grow closer to God. Right now i can't easily handle that with my busyness and still do stuff with friends... and i don't have many people i would extremely care to spend long hours with anyway. i love the people i have gotten to know, but it all feels so surface, so superficial... and i don't know how i'm expected to make friendships with people in the American context. it's been too long... and relationships here are so different than ones in the Philippines at Faith Academy. In a way it seems very wrong to be so reclusive, but it's hard not to be. deep down, the changes have been harder than i let on, or than i even, myself, realize. i guess not diving head first into friendships and relationships is my way of coping with the change, because if i have to try to hard to make friends i tire easily. ...but take everything i say with a grain of salt, because my writings are from thoughts in my head that don't always line up with reality, but are compiled of my mind's imaginings and my heart's feelings.
Jen

just one.

it seems like girls dress to impress and love to get attention... but we don't need to attract every guy on the face of the planet... and not even twenty or five. it feels good when i realize that all i need is one guy... one amazing guy to look my way and think, "hey, she's a pretty cool girl."... that's what i remind myself when i feel down on myself... because i'm not looking to impress the universe, i'm just looking to find that one person... that one guy who is just right for me, someone who loves me as i am, not because i try to dress to impress or wear layers of makeup to hide myself, but someone who loves me for all that i am, all my mistakes, blemishes, and ugliness... realizing that it's scars that make someone even more beautiful... that it's through hard times that a person flourishes and becomes not just ordinary but magnificent, and through that is substance, rather than mere surface beauty that will fade.
if every guy turned when i passed, i would worry that i cared too much for my outer self and not enough about my heart. i love feeling beautiful, and i love feeling noticed, but i don't want anyone to only love me for how i look... i want a man to fall in love with my heart, with my soul, with everything that is not material, with the substance of who i am... not with my choice of fashions or the hairstyle i don or the shades of makeup that happen to be pretty on me.
just one. for who i am.

freedom?

one more day of VBS... one more day. don't take me wrong here, i adore kids, but getting up at 7am over the summer to spend 4 hours with a bunch of screaming, running young kids gets tiring after awhile. i always prefer being one on one with someone... like talking to a kid who is lonely or wants his mommy... or making up little games to play with the shy little girls who don't always want to play with the other kids. i once was that shy kid. i understand. and it's so much fun to have conversations with four-yr-olds!... but what is so frustrating and infuriating is when a kid just won't cooperate. when a kid just refuses to listen. those kids are what make VBS a handful, a frustration, and a source of severe tiredness. i would love to have kids someday -- i just hope none of them turn out to be terrors.

one drop in the sea of a lifetime

what can it all mean, how with this help to shape me into who he wants me to be?
maybe it's just one drop in the sea of a lifetime,
but it's one little drop of me.
--and i can't help but wonder what it means.
at every turn, doors open and windows close, but where does this motion, this rhythm of life fit into the greater scheme of all eternity, humanity, and me?
since returning to the U.S., i have, without even trying, become involved with little kid ministries... it was just a phone call, a plea to help one sunday, and i'm suddenly on the "to call" list... so, naturally, that's where i spend my sunday mornings, before the second church service... with 4 year olds.... and i don't mind it in the least -- i love little kids.
...but then i get another call from the pastor of early childhood ministries asking me to help with VBS... maybe even being a teacher... i said no to the latter, but agreed to help out. ... so now i'm going to be spending my week as a teacher's assisstant for vacation bible school.
...oh yah... and i babysat saturday night. what's with all these connections? my family has never really been close to families with young kids -- at least since i was in high school, so i've only really babysat cousins... but it leads me to wonder... what does God have for me in all this? how is this experience, these open doors, going to play into the grand scheme of my life? what could he have for me, for this tapestry of me, that he is weaving such an interesting new color of thread into who i am?

It's interesting being in the in-between, the time between my past life and my next.  no, memories and people don't go away, and yes, everything that has happened in my past has shaped who I am and shapes who I am becoming and who I will be, but at the same time there is a feeling of letting go... yet still hanging on.  It's hard.  I haven't really kept good contact with people and I've been lonely, and probably a little depressed.  I feel almost trapped in this house because I don't know that many people and I tend toward introvertish behaviors anyway.

I can't wait until the fall and leaving for Biola, but at the same time there is always an underlying fear.... because I always fear most what I do not know.  Biola will be a new experience for me... and will be the start of another part of my life.

I wish I could clear my thoughts, but I can't.  They are all jumbled in my head and I can't seem to sort them out.  I'm happy to be here rather than there -- there are so many things I love about here that I had forgotten about, but I miss the people.  I miss school and daily interactions with people I have known for years... with people that I grew up with.  

morpheus

days blend into days
life morphs from event after event
to a long un-ending one thing-ness.
do i sleep or am i awake?
the blur of days continues
and it's all just going by too quickly....
morphing too soon into what will be tomorrow...
into what will be life in its next act.
i live a play... done in many acts, and this one that has come to be so familiar to me is quickly coming to an end... there will be a short intermission of the summer months as i prepare to be the girl growing up, the girl coming out of childhood and into being an adult. but even through that intermission i can't really have a break from life... just time to transition, and hopefully to think... a lot. so much is changing so quickly.

Why

what do you do when
you feel the world will end tomorrow
what will you say to those you love?
He never said it would be easy
but he called us to tell them
of what we look forward to

and why
and why
is a smile on my face
why do i look to the end of time
and why
and why
can i be so optimistic
if i like all am doomed to die

He sent His son to take away my pain and fear
He sent His son to give me life to live
He sent His son I don't worry 'bout tomorrow
Because that day when it comes
He'll lead me home

The message seems so simple
Too easy almost
Just accept his love, live in his light
Shine for all mankind to see

But why
But why
Does it seem so hard then
To take our hope and share it all around
But why
But why
Do we seem so silent
Watch out the rocks will start shouting from the ground

Kiss the ground
Jump for joy
Let them know that there is something
worthwhile
Kiss the ground
Jump for joy
Tell them He's real
Tell them life can be so real so free.

again

rain keeps falling
like the problems in this life
i find i'm filling up with its flow
and again
and again
i'm being trapped in this corner of this place
and again
and again
i'm still accosted by your face

it's not like there ain't moments of joy
it's not like sorrows are forever
but i feel like it's a roller coaster
of ups and downs

again again
going up again
then down again
to the place where darkness reigns
again again
going up again
let me stay at this high
for more than now
maybe a lifetime!

ups downs
again again
downs ups
again again
again again

Take me away

take me away from it all
set me free
this life ain't meant to be easy
but not so hard that we fall
down so deep

be my hero tonight
be the one who makes it right
be a constant hug a friend
i will make amends
for what i've done
just be the one

take my hand hold it tight
be the one who makes it right
dance with me hold me close
i will take a dose
of who you are
playing this guitar

maybe you're just a dream
a figure of my imagination
or maybe you're just
the perfect one for me
true reality
just haven't found you yet
but i'll find you wanna bet
in more than just my dreams
you're real
i feel it now.

take me away from it all
take me away from it all
say that i am yours and you are mine.
you are mine
truly mine.

conglomeration

do you ever go outside and just stare at the rain falling? i did today. it was nearly magical. i love the rain. it comes and it washes everything clean. it's like a whole new world.
then existence knocks again and i poof back into reality. exams. life. the universe. everything. when will life become... more? sometimes it seems so monotonous... a monotonous conglomeration of this that and everything, piled together like timber, ready to be set on fire. then the fire comes and you scream with agony, "why me? why all this stress? why do i have so much to do in so little time?" yet its the little things in life that matter most sometimes. tell someone you love them. give a friend a hug. write a little note. go dancing! and take me along, so i can learn how. this life isn't meant to be full of constant deprivation of joy. find fulfillment, fill yourself. fill yourself with the only thing that can truly fill you, and care about what really matters. that's what i tell myself, but i don't always listen, even though i should. thus i am stuck with a monotonous conglomeration of sticks being kindled into flame and destroying my mind as i speak. it's brilliant, absolutely brilliant. i guess when the fire is at its hottest and most torturous point that i need rain most. to take me away from it all, to put out the flame of frustration.