A Lot Can Happen in a Year

I haven’t written anything in over a year.  Looking through my old posts made me laugh.  What seemed like the end of the world back then is now so minuscule.

I have accomplished quite a few things since then: I graduated nursing school and passed the NCLEX.  I was also lucky enough to get a job and participate in the StaRN program.  Tomorrow will be my first official  day with a preceptor in the hospital as a registered nurse.  Usually, I would be way too nervous to sleep, but I think that I am too tired to even think about it.

I’ve also learned a lot about myself and people in general.  According to different personality test, I am an INFJ and my brightest color is blue, with gold being a runner up.  I still get confused with life and how my brain works, but hey– one step at a time, right? If I could commend myself with anything, it would be for gaining more confidence, even if it’s still not as high as I truly wish it to be.

Certain people have shaped me into the person who I wanted to be for a long time.  A million thanks would not be enough to show my appreciation to everyone who took their time to involve me in their lives.

I hope to share memories here more often, rather than once a year or so.  The act of typing what happens in my daily shenanigans should improve my memory and help me appreciate life more.

8-19-16

0207

 

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His amber eyes looked away into a far distant land that could not be found on earth.  Was it heaven? I surely did not know.  Heavy sighs engulfed the entire room but not even a depressed outcry could be made.  I was speechless,  empty.  There was nothing I could do but give him my time and love.  Was the ten years we spent together enough? I can admit that I was not the best friend that I could be, but I loved him with all my heart.  Remembering the time we ran out in the rain and shouted at the whole world made me cry.  It was one of the worst days I had in my life and I couldn’t take it.  But he was there, and we cooled off in the rain, washing away our pain.

His breaths got quicker and I could not slow it down.  I shut my eyes in anguish and awaited for the worst to come.  It wasn’t fair.  Nothing is fair, when it comes down to this. . .

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Stress

It’s been so long since I’ve typed up my feelings and thoughts– primarily since the only thing that I seem to be focused on these days is studying.

Over the past few days, I noticed how moody and angry I have become.  I didn’t know the cause of this, but I soon realized that it was from built up frustrations that I’ve kept deep inside.  For the most part, I am content with how my life is going.  I always think of how thankful I am for the blessings that I’ve been given.  However, the spoiled child inside of me can’t help but wish for more.  I wish that my loved ones wouldn’t get sick; I am tired of people having to deal with health issues that I can’t fix.  It makes me feel useless.

I wish that I could be on the same page as someone, but the more I think about compromising, the more crazy I get.  If only we could walk a mile in each other’s shoes; maybe we would understand each other more…

I wish I could get a job.  I could complain all day about not getting hired, but it is to my own fault that I have not been getting anywhere.  I am planning on applying to as many places as I can during spring break.

Why is money always an issue? I can never have enough of it, as disgusting as that sounds.  Out loud, I say that money has no true value, but I know that I am just lying to myself.  I need money so I could buy a plane ticket to the Philippines to be with my relatives that I haven’t seen for almost a decade.  My frustration levels are just out of this world.

I wish I could remember everything that I learn in nursing school to make life easier (but what fun is an easy life, right?).  It is, again, frustrating to work so hard to learn a plethora of information, then lose it a week later.  It amazes me how my classmates can pass tests while being employed (and some even have kids).  They are good multitaskers that I can learn a lot from.  I get very stressed for clinicals and tests and I need to just calm down (easier said than done).

This is just a complaining post that has no point.  It’s just good to vent sometimes…

 

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Pre-Anxiety

New chapters of my life have always involved pre-anxiety moments.  I know that it will always be this way because that’s just the way that I react, well– maybe even overreact at certain prospects. Whether it’s the transition from moving to different places (Philippines to Illinois; Illinois to Ohio; Ohio to Florida) or meeting new people, I always get nervous.  

I could list a hundred events that gave me tachycardia, and caused me to be nauseated from thinking about it.  Driving out on the open road by myself for the first time was one of those times.  I freaked out so much, even though I’ve been driving with my mom on that same road for a long time. It’s safe to say that participating in activities that I haven’t tried before makes me nervous.

At every event, I had that little doubt in my mind that I would not be able to accomplish my goals.  Moving from elementary to middle and middle to high school were some of the (from what I thought back then) scariest.  However, the transition that gave me the most anxiety was going from sophomore of high school to a freshman in an actual college campus.  I thought that it would be so hard, and that I’d hate every minute of it.  I didn’t think that I would talk to new people, and that I’d miss high school.  That was all wrong.  I didn’t miss anything about high school, except for a few people;  and it wasn’t even as hard as I thought that it would be.

Now, I am in another transition that is causing my palms to sweat.  It’s another big step: going to nursing school.  I know that there will be hard times, and it might not be the way that I expect it… but I will remind myself constantly that it doesn’t matter….  As long as I keep moving forward, anything is possible.

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I Can’t Swim… *insert sad pathetic face here*

It’s true; I can’t swim.  I find it very embarrassing.  That’s just like someone who never got to learn their A B C’s…. or tie their shoes… or learn how to ride their bike.  Living in Florida, people here expect that you know how to swim.  As far as I know, all my other friends swim someone decent.  A lot of them are also pretty good at it, as in, they’re in the swim team.  Their hobbies include just hanging out at the beach to surf or be a semi-merman.  Ugh, I feel so uneducated (is that even a right term to use in this situation?)

You’re probably like… well, why won’t you just man up and learn?!! Yeah, I tried multiple times with multiple people.  I ended up punching or kicking them.  It was awful.  I don’t fully trust anyone when it comes to me in the water, even my best friend or my dad.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I guess I’m just really scared of drowning. BUT, my mom said I knew how to swim when I was two… how can I possibly just forget?

It was probably a decade ago that someone tried to teach me.  She promised that she wouldn’t let go when I tried to float, but she LIED!!! (that’s my childish self talking)… I was floating, all excited, then she let go! That’s when I lost trust.  She said that I was swimming by myself, but I was so terrified when she let go that I sank.

I hope that I end up learning so that I would stop embarrassing myself. The person who ends up teaching me (that works) would be a miracle maker.  Wish me luck… because I’m going to a birthday beach party this Saturday… *cries*

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Childish Wonder: Genuine Happiness

I never thought that I would stop playing with dolls, but that was the old me.  I thought that I’d be playing barbies with my older sister as long as we lived, and that it would always be like that: fun and games.  It did make me sad when SHE stopped playing first, but I still stayed in that childish wonder bubble that I thought would never pop.  Middle childhood was, collectively, the best time of my life (I say middle because I don’t remember early childhood so much.)  There was never really a day that was bad, and I had an ocean load of imaginative ideas that kept me going.  I would wonder how things worked, why certain things happened, always curious.  That was a time when I didn’t know much “facts” and when I really didn’t have much boundaries. Rocks would be entertaining to me.  The simple things always cheered me up. I was always genuinely happy.  I realize that it was a time when I didn’t care about how I looked or what people thought about me.  Of course, since I was just a child free from worries.

When I think about it, it’s mostly because the internet wasn’t exploding at that time yet.  I couldn’t believe it when a saw a little five year old girl with her own iPad.  The early 2000’s gave me a backyard to explore and  crumpled newspapers that I play-pretended to be freshly baked bread from my bakery (a.k.a. front porch.)  I didn’t have any electronics except for the television, which I watched a lot of cartoons from– but not so much that I didn’t have time to express my spontaneous imagination.

Having experienced two years in a college campus now, I feel that that child part of me is slowly being stripped away.  The innocence that provided me genuine happiness from simple items is diminishing.  Again,as a younger child, I didn’t think this would happen.  I saw many grumpy elders and adults that were so involved and stressed with their jobs.  I told myself that I wasn’t going to be like that.  I would always hold my barbie in my hand and find time to play.  I would be the grown up that didn’t get caught up with insane worries.  I would be a child at heart until the day I died…. Yet, I forgot about those thoughts.  I’ve been the opposite. I care about stupid things like how I look and how people would judge me.

I just finished watching one of my childhood movies: Spirited Away; that’s why I’m writing this.  When the movie ended, a surge of that childhood wonder came back.  The magic in the movie itself lifted me up: I was literally “spirited away.”  That’s when the thoughts of being my old kiddie-self came back… that breathtaking awe that no other thing can give me.  I am still feeling it now.  (mostly from the nostalgia)

So to my even-older-future self, I hope that you get to read this.  I want you to remember that there is still a child inside of you.   Don’t be an old fart, forgetting about  beauty in  simple things.

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“Man at the End of the Rainbow”

This randomly popped up in my brain today, and I had to write it.

She sat on a swing as the rain started to pour.

“Come inside,” I said. I held it open, the door.

What took me by surprise was the smile on her face,

Eyes fixed on the stormy clouds, she looked so amazed.

I asked why she was so happy on such a dark awful day,

 

And she said,

“Because when it’s all over, I’ll go on my way.

There is a man at the end of the rainbow

Who’s waiting to grant my wish

All I have to do is wait til the storm passes by

When the trees had enough to drink and the sun starts to shine

I will follow that rainbow until I reach the end

Find that man and wish for hearts to mend.”

 

The young girl’s fable I didn’t believe

No gifts from a rainbow that you could receive

“Stop all that nonsense and come on inside.

Wipe off your shoes and make sure they have dried.”

 

A decade has passed and I remembered that girl

When the cloud turned black and started to whirl

It lasted awhile, but sure enough, the sun came out

With it, a huge rainbow that washed over my doubt

 

Insane as it seems, I drove for miles and miles

Stopped on a bridge overlooking some isles

I must have been dreaming, for what did I see?

The “end” of the rainbow, shining on me

But then I saw something even more strange

A frail old man suddenly at close range

 

He appeared out of nowhere, with just a white cloak

When’s the last time he ate? I’m sure he was broke.

So, so, skinny…

But his smile was just like the little girl’s

Genuine and kind, more valuable than pearls.

 

He said, “I’ll grant you a wish, just say the word.”

I must be going crazy, this is absurd.

“I gave all my belongings away

For hope that it would make people’s day

 

I can only give what i already own

But all of my seeds have just been sown.

You get one wish, so what would it be?”

 

I looked at him… were my eyes deceiving me?

A man who had nothing was offering me a request

I started to think and I felt so blessed

“Keep your things, if you even have any.

You know it’s quite hard to find many.. people like you.

I just ask for your wisdom, A heart… how does it mend?

It’s not like rubber that easily bends.”

 

Pointing his fingers to the rainbow above

He bowed his head and said, “It’s all about love.”

A wind blew so strongly that I shut my eyes

Then he was gone, with that four word goodbye.

 

-Okay, so cheesy poem that kind of / kind of not makes sense.

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Want to Kill some Brain cells?

I just watched the Maury show on youtube… Why, you might ask? How did I even end up there? I started out watching a guy do a magic trick, and I ended up there.

So, basically, the 18 year old girl has TWO kids, a two year old son and a one-year old daughter.  She wanted to find out who the possible FATHERS could be.  Yes, there were AT LEAST 10 candidates, but only 5 could be on the show.  Four of them were related! They were all cousins! I was baffled! It’s crazy how they shouted at each other and ugh… I can’t even express how I feel about that video…

I hate the way they were talking, as if her children were pieces of crap that were just “mistakes.” The guys let out a huge sigh of relief when they found out that they weren’t the father, as if “Okay. I can finally move on with my life, and some other person can take responsibility of those kids.” What the heck.  Those kids are going to grow up knowing their mom made some very stupid decisions.  This is why I want to be a pediatric nurse; kids deserve better.  I know it’s my fault for watching the entire 10 minute video anyways, but I want to slap that mother.  Yes, I give her credit for even raising her kids, but dang… You should see her facial expressions… I can’t even…

So if you feel like having tachycardia, angina, and hypertension tonight, then watch that video.

I’m not even going to give you the link because I’m not THAT mean.  But be assured, you will lose some brain cells after watching that video.

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Frustrated because I don’t know

I hate feeling like this.  My Chemistry test is tomorrow morning, and I can’t get the stupid math problems down.  My frustration level is so high that I have to type it to let my steam out.  It makes me feel so stupid. Why can’t I understand!?!! 

I basically feel like….

If I had a table to flip, I would… But I’m doing my work on my bed.

I… I just don’t get it…

BRAIN! WHY YOU NO UNDERSTAND?!

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I Can’t Be One of “Those Artists”

I love “art”… loved it all my life, actually.  My earliest memories involved some sort of connection with it.  My sister and I would frequently draw, make play-doh (we had a cheaper version) figures, and just have a blast creating anything from simple materials.

Although “art” has always been close to my heart, I can’t imagine myself being one of “those artists.” What the heck does that even mean, right? Well, I started taking an Art Appreciation class at my college for this spring semester.  I know that I’ll have fun later when we actually do stuff, but right now, I’m really dreading it.  It’s only been a couple of weeks, but it seems as I’ve been there for an eternity.  I’m not sure if it’s my professor’s soft voice that makes me fall asleep in class (don’t get me wrong… she’s a nice old lady) or just the concepts that we are going over.

For instance, we were talking about the elements of art– and yes, I get it.  Those are the fundamentals that artists must consider to make their work powerful.  But then, we started looking through hundreds of art work: some sculptures, others paintings.  The thing that really got me (and started making me think that I can’t be one of “those artists) is that they get so into it.  You might be thinking, Wow. How can you even say you love art, when you don’t get into it? It’s not that.  I do understand, yes, it’s a beautiful painting.  But I think that some people read way wayyy too deep into the actual meaning of the art.  For instance, we were analyzing one of Van Gogh’s paintings of a bar.  She asks us, “What does this make you feel? Do you feel comfortable? Quirky?”

No one wanted to answer, so the classroom had a full minute of awkward silence.  I took one for the team and said how I felt.  I told her that the colors were warm, so it seemed comfortable enough.  The lights looked like they were radiating a certain glow to the room.  She questioned me, “Really? Doesn’t it make you feel off? Almost awkward?” I wanted to say, well, I mean if you say so… but isn’t that her opinion? And I have mine? I really think that art, like this painting has a million things to say.  Didn’t someone proclaim that “a picture is worth a thousand words?”

I feel like I’m not making myself clear, so I’m going to give another example.  For instance, let’s say that I painted a room with blue curtains.  The “fancy art person” would claim that I painted the curtains blue to express my melancholy.  No! what if I painted the curtains blue because that’s my favorite color (which it is) or because it represents a “cool” feeling? How can someone else judge how I felt at that exact time that I painted it? Unless they interviewed me… They might go on further and say that it could mean that someone close to me died and it was a “blue day.” Boy… that escalated quickly, eh?

I’m truly not trying to bash “those artists,” even though it does seem like it.  For me to classify them as “those artists” make me sound even worse, huh? But shouldn’t art be about expressing yourself and not being technical ALL the time? Shouldn’t it be your style, or even, something others can look and interpret their own way? There are a million ways to interpret it, and most of the time, your interpretation probably isn’t the same as what the artist was interpreting it…

Look at the picture above. In art class, we would have been analyzing each splatter. “Hmm… do you see the unity of the colors and how the symmetrical balance of the colors convey the emotion?” What the heck. No. I think that this is a pretty picture. Maybe the artist just felt like randomly splattering some paint that day? They don’t know if s/he truly planned every single splatter out.  Come on..

It amazes me when I see something like a yellow dot on a piece of white canvas, and it’s on auction for thousands of dollars. Really? A famous artist did that? What do they think of it? Do they think that it expresses so much emotions in that dot? Okay, maybe the artist did mean something of it, but getting so attached to the meaning of a thousand dollar yellow dot is just ridiculous to me.

They are in “awe” of that dot, while graffiti artists are being shunned by their “trash.” Are you kidding me? I think that street art is genius!

Look at that amazing piece of art! I can feel more emotion towards this. But that doesn’t mean that the way I feel is the same feeling that the artist is conveying.  This is better than the simple dot. How can people stare at a yellow dot, analyzing it for days?? “The simple things in life are the most extraordinary.” Yeah, it’s simple, so don’t make it so complicated.

Gosh, my rant is over.  I hope I made my point clear.  I’m not so good with words. haha..

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