Little Chance

She starts her day before the sun could rise,
closed her eyes too quick before the moon shined,
not a soul knows her name yet says it proud
waiting for the moment to speak aloud

She's got everything or so they say,
she can't tell when she's good enough these days

From this little chance
she's no match,
outside her home
problems crash,
but hope gave touch
before she speaks,
it's enough to bring it back
bring it all back
inside

Another day has started again,
yet the sun moved on past her second chance
there was no moon outside at night
the fear grows from within her mind
longing for everything to be just fine

She's got everything or so they say,
she can't tell when she's good enough these days

From this little chance
she's no match,
outside her home
problems crash,
but hope gave touch
before she speaks,
it's enough to bring it back
bring it all back
inside


She thought
she figured
herself out by now
but that
can't take
away those promises
kept inside her mouth


From this little chance
she's no match,
outside her home
problems crash,
but hope gave touch
before she speaks,
it's enough to bring it back
bring it all back
inside

From where it blends.

I'm not sure where I stand anymore between what had happened from September 'til now.

These first months of school sorta blended together in a manner that I can't even recall what day of the week or month it is, or for that matter, the distinction between a week and month.

In some ways, my life never changed, like my life after 2:15pm. I go straight to the choir room, do Cabaret rehearsals......maybe All-State practice.....or sometimes both.....and then have play rehearsals from 6-*8pm (it was 6-9pm last week.....) and then I do homework until I fall asleep. It's always been this way after the first weeks of school, and generically, since sophomore year if you consider the time slot I've stayed at school day after day.

But then, I look at how much everything has changed. The new people I've gotten close to, the responsibilities gained, being surrounded by the same people I've known who are in the midst of some transformation of themselves.....it makes me wonder what's better.....the time when everyone knew too little or how everyone knows too much?

There are times when I just stand where I am and look up.....thinking that all the answers are right above my head. And sometimes this strategy actually works. But for right now, more than ever, I've realized that all my answers aren't from what I think I need to do, but what's been in front of me every single day.

With each day passing.....it's taking so much out of myself to just get a grip. Not that life is too hard for me to handle....but it's controlling an amount of 'you' that longer feels agony to a phase which makes insanity appear normal; normal enough to make days mix in evenly and inseparately together.

What makes it hard to figure out is if this is a 'good' or 'bad' thing. And then I figured it's a 'Ressa' thing. So, is Ressa feeling good? Bad? Well, at the end of the day, I feel unstoppable. It's hard to tell what I do feel during a day. It's unexplained in words, yet shown more with actions from a thoughtless nature inside of me.

I see people blending paint to draw a picture, my father stirring up cream in his coffee before his long day at work, words turning into mumbles from friends conversing at an end of a hallway, and a leaf turning red for fall. It's finished when the drawing is done, when the coffee is slurpped down his throat, when talking is no longer important, and when the leaf falls off a tree.

This heart of mine can't be stopped that easily. It's growing, rather than fading, and it mingles into a gentle soul. It wants to move the earth, hold the sun, and challenge the moon to stop her before day ends. Because although I blend, I live.

And living takes more than breathing...

Because crying heals.

So it wasn't until a few minutes ago that I've decided to give my blog an update. All because of chocolate that said:

"Crying heals your soul, faith inspires it!" -Gloria, Huntington Park, CA

I kinda look at it and thought to myself," Wow......just wow."

I guess I've been swooned by this statement partially because of the fact that I'm currently performing in Godspell, which is a total life-changing experience to be a part of it as well as for everyone who came and watched it (from what I heard atleast). In the show, there's a scene where you're suppose to cry, which I've struggled with.

One, I'm with people(cast) that I've been really close to, and seeing them see ME cry.....sounds really uncomfortable. And, yeah. It's hard for me to cry.

And, personally, the rehearsals got frustrating for me because I didn't want to make it seem like it was such a big deal for me to tear up. And I was scared that I wouldn't do my role justice. I was even more afraid I was trying too hard to feel sad that it comes out pathetically fake.

I was SO afraid, I practiced crying in front of my mirror.....which sounds absolutely ridiculous typing. But then I sorta gave up trying and decided to rather pick up my sleep routine before school started, which honestly, is doing no good for me.

Two, I start thinking about my 'last time's' at Dawson. Like, my last first day of school.....or my last fall musical opening show.......or having 5 more chances to sing my solo on stage. And I'm prettttty sure it won't get easier to think about when it gets close to April.

Three, I have this random frenzy inside of me to just take everything in. Which is probably similar to reason #2, but not really. Like how my mom and dad keep bringing up all the little things I did when I was little. How I liked performing in the shopping cart everytime my mom went grocery shopping......how I liked to eat my french fries when I was 2........that moment when I wanted to be just like Britney Spears or how I always wanted to live in Disney World one day.

And then last Friday was our opening night......and then here I was....about to take a deep breath in singing my solo. And then I looked out and saw an irridescent-colored dream from above the audience......resembling myself back when I was 5 twirling around in a tutu telling my mom that I wanted to be a performer someday as my mother would try to make me settle down and get into bed. I wanted to catch that floating memory and hold it in my palm....like how my character wants to reach a pebble and place it inside her shoe.

And then I saw 5-year old Ressa running towards me, embracing me, holding me, and smiling sweetly with that crinkly pink tutu that took my mother took forever to let me take off when I had to get ready for school next morning. Looking at that girl.......actually...myself.......made me cry.

Choir and theater is giving me this personal light. It's different this time around......being with/growing up with people who all want to do the same thing as you when you grow up.......it's just all very nurturing.

And then there are days when I think to myself........'What am I gonna do with myself?' So many people are missing in my life right now.

My formal voice teacher.
Both my grandfathers.
My grandmother.
My uncles.
A few of my distant cousins.
A friend who died of cancer.
A family friend who got pregnant way too early in her life.
The friends who moved out.
My elementary teachers that I've now realized had died a few years back.

Those people make me cry. They believed in me.....alot.....even when I didn't see myself that way.

And there's people who feel that same way about me.....and stayed with me for this long in my life.

And they also make me cry.

And then I look at my old childhood pictures and past yearbooks and elementary art projects and all the silly things I wrote down in my old diaries when I was 6.

I cry again.

And then I see myself now.....brushing my teeth.....writing notes for Statistics.....drinking a Lemon-berry Sprite at Sonics...and bringing myself back home to sleep. My dream hasn't changed.....I just thought up of more dreams to add on.



There's a reason for everything at this point, and I have my absolute faith in it.

The tears healed me.

What I've been hiding from.

So I've realized better. & that I've been making myself frustrated for nothing for the longest time. And I want to quit.

Maybe I was just playing it safe.......or insecure of my intelligence. But now I know I need to give credit to myself a little more. And not just keep putting this 'wall' up.

So basically: I don't want my naiveity.

This doesn't mean I don't want to be innocent anymore or I'm trying to get corrupted.

Uhhhhh, no. There's a fine line between that.

There's just this different side of me that I want to get to know of. A part of me that I want to uncover.

I want to explore this particular side of me and maybe possibly allow myself to arise from it.

It sort of seems unfair that I've only thought about this until now, but I feel as though this whole time I was being selfless enough to make myself be behind from everyone else. I wanted everyone to be happy that I would make myself unhappy by 'playing it dumb'. And that in a way, is selfish.

Yet, I don't think anybody wanted that from me, which is what made me decided of this decision in the first place.

I have this greater desire to learn.....but I think I've been distracted from so many doubts and 'what if''s.'

Another reason was the fact I didn't like to be prided of. I like feeling proud, but not in a sense of where I am reputated by it.....which is crazy, because I'm already known for what I do for music. I think there's still this 6-year old in me that believes that I'm not 'old' enough to be recognized or become 'someone'. I still have a long way to go, which I do, but I'm far past the starting line.

But I want to learn about myself enough to find a 'somewhere' for me while staying 'here'. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. This is where I take my future into some deep consideration.

I want to find this inner balance in me that I wasn't ready to grasp yesterday......or the past 17 years of my life.

This is not one of those 'I want to be a new me and change foreverrrrrr!' type of stuff. This is me in growth. Nothing is changed or taken away; just more appreciated by a different approach.

Because I still like laughing obnoxiously and spinning around in circles.

Blind Pursuit

Another song finished. This time, it took guts, tears, and some vulnerability to complete it. But I feel like it's worth it.

I.

Smile,
that's what they say
but I can't for you today
Laugh,
that's what they want from me
but I'm no good at pretending

I'm surrounded by possibilities
that weren't meant to be
and I'm distant
from where home is guaranteed
I'm told that its best to leave it be
but now I'm here with a broken dream



There was no beginning that triggered it
from what I can believe
just a continuing mistake
that I have yet to redeem
yet the struggle is more powerful
than the desire to be complete
people ask if it's possible
until now I have no clue
I am proof that breathes
everyday with a blind pursuit



II.
Speak,
you prefer that from me
yet I prefer to disagree
Listen,
since I'm making no sense
but you can't imagine my nonsense



I guess I'm living in some delusion
that I keep fantasizing
being hysterical
to distractions overwhelming
I'm told to forget about the unnecessary
but I can't tell the difference between the contraries



Being wrong is far from what I fear
because the hidden truth is more than staying here
yet there's no ending
to a situation like mine
because I'm always the girl
running out of time
figuring out all
that she wished she knew
I am proof that breathes
everyday with a blind pursuit

Because I've got stories....

Because I've got stories to tell you my friend,

and I'm not leavin' until they're said

I got the time and your next to me

that's just enough to tell you everything

enough to tell

everything....

A work in progress.

Sunday mornings.

I didn't really like Sunday mornings when I was little.

But now I look forward to it every week.

There are no plans on Sunday mornings.

It's a time to do what YOU want to do, which is in my case, sleep 'til 4pm.

But I didn't feel like sleeping much today, and there was nothing wrong with that.

I ended up making hot tea and criss-crossed, indian-style on my mattress with my blanket wrapped around me and I took a sip.

Silence.

Mmmmmmmm........

I notice the dust flecks floating around the air from the beamed sunlight. My window blinds can't hide it. It's bright and sunny outside.

...What if it wasn't Sunday?

....I don't think I would ever notice the weather.....or care what day it is for that matter.

My lazy summer days have been long gone....and my busy schedule/routine is creeping up from behind me.

And when I don't, I make plans to keep me busy......ugh.

But I never make plans on a Sunday morning.

& that's when I realize.......in the quiet......comes a gift.

Peace.

Because it's all glamourous to me.

"You know what you should do? Go to the Philippines after schooling and make millions."

That's what a man said to me after I sang last night.

Since becoming one of the Fil-Am superstar winners, I've been given access to the filipino association glitz parties at the high-end side of Houston.

And it's all very exciting being the new girl.

It's kind of remarkable how everything is. There's beautiful chandeliers hanging clustered diamond tear-drops, and how the dancefloor's polished and stretched out as the centerpiece of the whole ballroom (you know how filipinos like to party....). People just walk past them as if seeing it was as normal as seeing a lightpole on the side of the street. And yet, I'm becoming more comfortable looking at them as well. I dine with the chairmans and national filipino associates from all parts of the U.S, and I take pictures with them.......for about an hour long. Literally.

The best part is, my ticket's always free. I sing to them, and then I have fun. Which to me, is a wonderful trade.

So I do so, and I entertain them delightfully.

& that's how I keep coming to these parties.

It's pretty surreal.

I do have to side with them when others say 'filthy rich' kids are so 'fake'. They're absolutely not. Their clothes and the fact that their parents are 'big' people of the 'so-and-so's' make them accustomed to always smile and give off a confident impression, not out of arrogance, but of what they stand for. And since they happen to be brought along by their parents at these parties, they just want to have fun. And not in a bad influential way either. They're crazy goofballs just like any of my own friends from school, and they like dancing until their feet fall off. It's understandable they might be considered as one by the fact that they don't really try the whole 'get to know you' phase. A group of teenagers will just tap my shoulder, compliment me, and ask me to dance with them. They get to know me as we go along having fun.

But it's hard even trying to step into the dancefloor when I have to meet or be introduced to so many other guests at the party, and have many conversations about my life, my goals, my interests.....since you know, I'm the 'new girl'.

And I guess they consider me a 'filipino local celebrity' in a way. I've never told myself that, they just keep implying that I am.

And that's when that man told me to become a star in the Philippines.

I never thought about it before.
That's actually a good idea since all the celebrities in the Philippines ARE Filipino-American. I'm actually considered 'tall' over there, and I......quote-on-quote, have talent. I just need to learn tagalog. & that's it.

I always wanted to be in a TV commercial over there since I do have connections from the industry to be in one, but I never....ever.....thought about actually BEING a foreign celebrity.

EVER.

Do I want to want to give up being in the states? Be an ocean apart from my friends and family? Afford long-distance calls to keep in touch? Worst part........give up A/C?

Or do I want to stay in the states struggling to be in a stable job and live a life of anonymity?

But, will I get used to this?

Getting dressed up.......having to curl my hair for every performance.....memorizing lyrics......singing off of karaoke tracks....shaking hands....giving side-to-side cheek kisses?

Should I?

Because after the party, I come home to a one-story house, in a bathroom that I have to share with my brother ( yeah.....not cool...haha), to a to-go food box using a plastic spork instead if a fancy gold spoon, and a list of summer assignments that I still have to do before school starts.

But that's okay, I'm a small-town girl.....I'm used to this.

& for right now, I like it this way.

Tiwala.

Once upon a time there were 5 little girls.

These girls met at one holiday party and expected nothing more than fruit punch and a plate of lumpia with rice.



But it seemed like God planned everything out when their families ran out of chairs for their table and decided the little ones would sit together instead.



"They're girls.....they'll get along....", one mom said. The grown-ups left them hugs and kisses and return to their seats.



And then.....silence.

The parents' daughters just politely faced their own plates and ate quietly until they were finished.

As years past, their eating gatherings weren't like this at all. They would all link arms and save seats for them to sit together. Their parents would just shake their heads and say," Man, they're inseparable, aren't they?" and let them be. The girls giggled about inside jokes, toys, and disney shows. They shared everything about their hopes and dreams. They wanted each other to be happy, but truly, be happy together.

That's what happened to these girls as they grew up. They would meet-up and catch up about their lives as if the weeks they hadn't seen each other were existant.

But sooner or later, they had worser problems bandaids can't fix. It was grades, siblings, boys, and when parents say 'no'. They wished to be prettier, smarter, popular, and anything else more than themselves. They often forget about what's important. Yet, it was these very same girls who believed in each other enough to realize they are all even more than what they had wanted. So much more.

And soon enough, they past through clouds of grey, rocky roads, and sticks and stones. They became better people because of each other. They all possessed similar qualities, yet, there's always one of them who had a stronger quality of a trait.

One girl gave them spirit. Someone to always laugh with and make their times together just a whole lot crazier. She was lively and was never afraid to be herself.

The other girl showed faith. She's not only devoted to her beliefs, but her belief that everything and everyone will find their way. Through hard times, she made the girls strong.

A particular girl gave wisdom. She showed them that intelligence isn't something to hide and that playing 'dumb' is a lose-lose situation in the long run. She makes them learn from each other everytime.

Another girl expressed beauty. She reminds the girls how possession of inner beauty is reflected towards your appearance. She would see only the beauty of others as well. And yeah, she's also pretty herself.

The last girl delivered honor. She gave goodness in the girls' hearts to never be ashamed of themselves. And that setting a purpose in your life isn't about glory or rewards, but because people expect you to make right decisions.

They all had tiwala-trust. They all had each other; sisters. And that's what we'll always have. That's what we'll always be.

We aren't so little anymore.

Writing songs....

have reached a point where it keeps me sane.

I like it almost enough to love it.

I want to take classes and maybe have a minor in songwriting composition.

Aghhh. It's making me listen to music in a whole new way.

What makes a person think to themselves," Dang, my life sucks! I need to make a song out of this!"?

It's all very interesting.

I want to figure out how to make a melody out of the songs I'm writing, though. I never really made a 'complete' song.

But I'll just keep writing some stuff. Maybe I'll figure it out along the way.

Smile,

that's what they say

but I can't for you today

Laugh,

that's what they want from me

but I'm no good at pretending...

I'm tweaking this new one. Agh. I'm excited to finish it. :)

I'm in America.

I've spent most of my life with you.

& I've made extremely happy, sad, and 'whatever' days with you as well.

I keep forgetting where I am and where to go, yet, I'll always end up in one place.

You teached me pride and honor, truth and freedom.

I studied about you all through, well, almost all through, my school life.

You never fail to surprise me with your history and future.

You were always there to lift me up when I've wanted to fall.....so many times.

I grew up while you've re-born.

Your silence is admirable; your noise is incredible.

I'm amazed over and over again.

I'm on, in, and at America.

Happy 4th of July.

Because I'll always be here for you, USA.

Wow.

Once again, wow.

I cannot believe that person just said that.

Listen, love.

Saying sorry doesn't matter if someone is continuously hurting you again.

'Sorry' is an afterthought.

You, my friend, aren't an afterthought.

End of story.

A Part of That.

I'm not wasting time anymore. I mustmustmustmustmust start applying for music scholarships....but the thing is.....I'm way too picky.

But I like this video for every reason why I shouldn't. This is obviously NOT the tape I sent in, but it's nice to allow people to see my vulnerability.

A 'Ressa' who's makeupless, wears pajamas in the afternoon, and has hair that isn't made up. A girl who can't speak for herself and still doesn't really truly know why she loves to pursue music yet. A person who makes silly faces and talks to herself when she thinks about what to say next. A 'Ressa' with her morning voice. 'Ressa' that doesn't have the 'perfect' timing. A girl that doesn't know her lyrics, ughhhhh!

But the point is....yeah. That's a part of me.

Piano fingers.

"So you think this Bladwin grand piano is nice, huh?"

That was what an old man said to me some 10 or 11 years ago. I probably didn't even know what on earth he meant by 'grand pianos' or what a 'Baldwin' is.

I remembered it like it was yesterday.

I had denim overalls and a striped lavender shirt underneath. My hair had bangs with a bob cut and I was missing a tooth here and there. I was singing 'Oops! I Did it Again' on the way to the H&M musicstore and I was crying before we left the house because I really, reallllly wanted to wear my ruby red slippers (Dorothy/Wizard of Oz style) instead of my pink Nike sneakers.

What I don't remember was why? Why did this old man wanted to talk to me? What made me look at this particular piano from the others?

I remembered how it made me feel.

Looking at this instrument.....gave me goosebumps that warmed my heart and sparkled my eyes.

"Well, kiddo! Don't even try looking at this here masterpiece! It'll never be played by you and your short fingers."

Man. Typing his every word makes me realize how much guts and sass that guy had. & yet, I looked at him back and instantly smiled.

The following week, I had my first piano lesson and his words made my 6 years of piano training existable.

My skill had faded it's charm once highschool started...and it's not that I regret everything I do for choir and musicals...but there's always this emptiness of where my fingers wanted to press. A missing place to sit down and let an inanimate object understand me.

So this fufilled promise to myself has been lost for too long...and it's time to bring it back.

...because I missed you, my dear piano.

One Day

V1:Expecting the world with open doors
having to twist each knob,
revealing all you unexpect
and fufilling the favored job,

I guess that's what people do
and how you live through days,
but I can't be nourished
from such predictable ways,
yet it's all the same

Chorus:
Same life,
same feelings,
same notions,
same meanings,
what can I say to this?
Deep breaths,
simple thoughts,
pure connection,
no directions,
one day it'll all make sense,
one day it'll all make sense......

V2:I'm not trying to find any excuses
to make my heart unagree,
but it seems like the truth
is no where close to finding me,

There's just too much second-guessing
to let me try to decide,
what will it take for me to realize
how much aspirations can provide,
I don't want any lies

Chorus:
Same life,
same feelings,
same notions,
same meanings,
what can I say to this?
Deep breaths,
simple thoughts,
pure connection,
no directions,
one day it'll all make sense,
one day it'll all make sense......

Bridge:
I guess...
there's some growing up to do
to push...
that visible door
and for me...
to tell you
that I'm ready...
to find what I'm looking for

Chorus:
Same life,
same feelings,
same notions,
same meanings,
what can I say to this?
Deep breaths,
simple thoughts,
pure connection,
no directions,
one day it'll all make sense,
one day it'll all make sense...... 2x

Give me time to believe,
it'll all make sense.

Finally finished. :)

Plan A.

Being on the road calls for no pictures this time.

But I was there. My location of Plan A.

I call it Plan A because I would hate to not be accepted in this particular college because I had jinxed myself from raving it all the time. Let's just say it took me 3 plane flights and 5 hours of sleep to finally arrive there.

And at first, I was deathly afraid of Plan A not being what I had imagined it in my head when I was looking at the site, but it was everything I expected it to be.

I was really amazed at the buildings located in the town of Plan A. It's very vintage, authentic, and you look at it with it's history reflected back right at your face. I do admit, I felt ashamed of living my entire life with Texas's civilized and modern places of shopping, amusement parks, and elite restaurants as I looked at the cute, little town I wanted to live. It made me realize how much the kids in this town lived so differently from how I did. The ground, besides it's roads, were adorned with the greenest trees and grass I've ever seen. The town gave several similarities of towns in Texas even as my parents started to make critiques.

"Looks like Huntsville...." my mom claimed.

"Nah, Mom....more like Madisonville!" my brother blurted after.

But I saw it nothing more than it being home.

My dad drove through Plan A's entrance....and I heard a giggle.

"What, Mom?" I questioned.

My mother covered her mouth. "Dawson's football field lookes ten times better than this."

I turned left from the car window.....and she was right. But I noticed the worn out patches of grass from the fields.....and I can tell that Plan A's team probably doesn't shy away from first place whatsoever.

We parked in front of the admission center, and we decided that it would just be best if my mom and I who took it from here.

Again, the buildings amazed me from it's New England style and breathtaking engravements carved from the stairway leading to the door.

I didn't know whether or not to knock first, or just open it without warning; it felt like I was coming inside a house.

I made up my mind and turned the door handle anyway.

A young guy sitting in the office, probably in his early 20's, was sitting upon the chair along with two girls with the same age group both sitting upon a wooden table nearby.

"Is this the place where they have the tour?" I asked.

"I'm sorry....but today...." the guy was beginning to say...

"-it got cancelled?" I assumed. My heart dropped.

"Haha, no.... I'm just joking with you!" he teased. You can tell he was a student from Plan A, and his friendliness caught me off guard.

The girls chimed in with a friendly and welcoming smile. They're most definitely students from the college as well.

Wow. I started to blush from my naiveity.

The guy noticed and handed me a form and pen. "Hey, it's alright. Just fill this out really quick and the tour will start soon."

I filled out the form as the guy found a chair for me to sit in, and the two girls continued their conversation.

Eventually, they asked where I was from.

"Woahhhh, you're from Texas?" the girl in the blue dress asked.

"Yep", I replied.
It sounds so mysterious to say you're from another state, especially when you're alllll the wayyyyy down south. And to arrive where Plan A is located, being from Texas sounds as if you've slayed a dragon to reach here.

"I know this sounds sorta random.....but it it true that people say 'ya'll' there or is it just a rumor?" the girl with the khaki shorts chimed in.

I gave a sweet, loud laugh out of that question.

"Haha, yeah! People in Texas do say...'ya'll'!" I replied back with air quotations.

By my hesitation of saying 'ya'll' at the end of the phrase made all of us laugh together in the small office room.

"Hey, don't worry," the guy assured,"[the girl in the khaki shorts] Shanae always gets asked if people say 'MAN' after everything in Jamaica. She's a international student."

"And it's true, people DO say 'man' alot in Jamaica!" she added.

Soon, we filled the office room with a lighthearted aura about our hometowns, and how our highschools are like.

"You know...you don't have to stay with us and be in our conversation if you're bored...." the guy said after our 30 minute discussion.

"Ehh, it's alright. I don't have anywhere else to go!" I teased. The girls "ooh"ed at my response.

"Haha, I probably deserved that..." the guy muttered,"I gave you a hard time right when you arrived, haha."

As the time reached 1pm, I realized Shanae was my tour guide. And my mom, who waited for me outside, gathered with me and the other kids who signed up for the same tour time as well.

And the tour? It was absolutely impressive. Everything was exactly how I pictured it in my head when I was looking at the campus pictures from my computer screen back home. It was kind of sorta like it was a dream in front of me. The hills and trees surrounding the stoned walkways......the big, HUGE mountain view over the fields where they have statues and monuments in honor of the president of Plan A and significant faculty figures. The flowers planted by the benches and the way the sun bursts light into the dorm windows from it's windowsill. It was everything I wanted. Everything I wanted badly.

"What do you think, Mom?"

"It's good...."

I sorta smiled at myself as I walked ahead of her in the staircase. I considered it a good sign. My mom loves this school, too.

Mmmmm.....what what can I do with you, Plan A? 8,ooo people apply to you every year trying to make it.....and only 350 people do.

I wish Plan A came with directions.

Songs in my head.

I'm not so afraid anymore. I'm going to try and write a song again.

It's actually pretty easier now than my first attempt:

Expecting the world with open doors

having to twist each knob,

revealing all you unexpect

and fufilling the favored job,

I guess that's what people do

and how you live through days,

but I can't be nourished

from such predictable ways,

yet it's all the same

Same life,

same feelings,

same notions,

same meanings,

what can I say to this?

Deep breaths,

simple thoughts,

pure connection,

no directions,

one day it'll all make sense,

one day it'll all make sense......

It sounds like a good start to me.

Nothing mattered.

So I was going to write a happy-sort of blog about the future today......until my past hit me. & the smile I wore faded when my parents bursted the news about my report card today.

CRAP.

My end of year grades.....the only column that mattered to my parents........weren't so good.

My first year to have A's & B's in my end of year grade since...like, 2nd/3rd grade.

& it just killed me.

AND I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING,' Wow....big whoop! I get those grades alllll the time!'

Honey........I want to go out-of-state.

& I can't with my average-y grades.

This all happened after 6 1/2 hours of volunteer work at my church's bazarr, and seeing old friends from school.

& the good times just completely got shot down in 2 minutes of me looking at the stupid piece of papers with letters on it.

UGH.

And my parents......are so disappointed.

I don't blame them. Sometimes I feel like I'm setting myself up for total failure. I think about it......and man. It's gonna be hard for me to get in a college in Massachusettes.....or Ohio......or Minnesota. & my academics......aren't totally awesome. But my activities are spectacular......musically. I'm not really all-rounded now that I think of it.

I'm probably gonna end up in U of H....NO OFFENSE TO PEOPLE WHO GO THERE. I'm just noting the fact that I'm probably not gonna have a full ride or scholarship to pay my tuitions even if I'm accepted to an easy college-accepting school like people who usually go to the U of H. I'm just going to waste money applying and expecting to get rejected over and over again.

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

This negativity is just the climax of all negativity.

Ressa.....junior year is the most important.

& the hardest! Which is what my grades show.

Ressa....I knew you weren't studying enough!

Because of the fact I'm too involved in my after-school activites.

Well...what's the use of being in these activities if they're distracting you!

They're not. I want to be a part of it.

Your priorities are screwed up.

Thanks Mom and Dad.

Did I mention my award for the Leadership Academy of excellence? My prize money for being one of the grand prize winners in the Filipino American Superstar singing competition? Being a Junior Catholic Daughter of America officer? Having the highest rank for my UIL Solo Ensomble singing competition?

My parents don't think twice about these things. I'm just the bad daughter once again. I can't fix anything now.

5 thing to get in an asian market.

So you're coming inside to an oriental market and see all the bright lanterns and colors right at your face. There's bunch of asian families that have a month supply of food in their carts and you're thinking to yourself, 'WHAT AM I DOING HERE?!'. Again, this is MY opinion, but you should definitely go try these products if you happen to 'just be there'. :)

1. Rose Green Tea: God, this is the reason why I started drinking tea when I was little. It might be a bold choice for people who just drink the 'normal' stuff, but it might actually be good for people who like their tea with a mild flavor. It does have an exotic sort of taste, but it definitely gives you relaxation and also boosts your health. It's hard for me to describe it since I've been drinking it for so long, but I would also say that it's more sweeter rather than bitter. :) Again, if you think about it, it's just green tea with flowers. WHO DOESN'T LIKE FLOWERS?! 2. Mini Croissants/pastries in general: Man oh man, the little delicates of heaven bring me joy in my life. What I like about the croissants is that they're not buttered, because what do I usually add to my croissants?! Butter. I just think that Kroger, Randalls, and Target have defeated the purpose of me putting butter in my pastries when they have 'buttered' it already (if that made any sense). Plus, they're not manufactured and such. You could watch the bakers seriously cook your bread right in front of you, and you'll recieve it fresh and warm. & knowing the fact that they have made it especially for you makes me absolutely love their bakery even more. :)
   
   3. Butterfly Cookies: Hfiaoh;gnoa9ug04j4&(63yq9n! I LOVE BUTTERFLY COOKIES! This is all very nostalgic to me, but these cookies have brought a good impact to my life in my childhood years. I will warn you, it's sorta plain tasting. It's pretty much dough with light sugar sprinkled on top. I usually crunch it and add it to my ice cream, brownies, or put fruit on top with whipped cream. They are usually really big, but I bought the mini ones instead. You can say it brought the creative side of me as a kiddo.
   
   4. Snow Pea Crisps: This is a newly founded love of mine. I would sometimes eat a package during school in the mornings, and people would stare at me all weird and say," So......you're eating a vegetable......that's in chip-form?" Haha, yes. Yes I am. & the best thing is, they don't even taste like a vegetable. My friends would try one and described it as eating plain cereal. They eventually accepted my love for these chips and all is well and good. My mom says it's REALLY good when you add it in salads instead of croutons. I never personally tried it because I'm not really a salad-eater, but I imagine that it's realllllly good.
   
   5. Kawaii Cookies: So I bought the helly kitty strawberry flavored ones in this pic, but you can totally get the plain ones as well. The cookies are adorable! It's probably a little smaller than a size of a dime, which makes it more fun to eat. It's very powdery and it easily melts into your mouth. It's been a quiet obssession of mine for a while, and again.....it's just so adorable! :)

Just keep these food products in mind when you're grocery shopping in Viet-Cong/ Hong Kong Food Market. :) Let me know what you think!

Take time...

to realize.

Not my best, but I tried.

God, I'm such a cry baby.

I swear, this is gonna be the LAST time I'm posting a blog about saying goodbye. For realz. I'll visit happyland soon! :)

Class of 2010.

Dearest Class of 2010,

I'm not gonna lie. It's alot easier for me to say goodbye to you now compared to 2 weeks ago. I hope you don't considered that offensive or anything.....I took it as a good thing. I didn't want to be too teary-eyed and not say all the things I wanted to say.

Let me first start off by saying how MUCH I'll miss you. Because I REALLY will. & you are all probably tired of hearing everybody saying that, so I'll leave it at that.

I will say that you were really nice to us Class of 2011-ers. We had built our school's reputation and made an unbreakable bond that's uncomparable from other classes. It was just our classes that even BEGAN our school. period.

& even looking back at 3 school years from now......I felt so young back then. How did we come this far?

I'm always looking up to you.......emotionally.......and literally. You've inspired me. & at the same time I felt like I've walked into many people's lives and became a part of their family. I had gained hundreds of older brothers and sisters from the past 3 years, and it's nice to think back at all the moments we've shared, haha.

& I probably owe my whole life to you. You've been saving my hiney for everything. Not to mention, driving me back home from school and helping me with my homework. You've also saved me from insanity. & you were right about almost everything I needed to know about my teachers and classes when school starts every August. You constantly remind me about the 'whole picture' when I obsess over the little details.

At the same time, I felt like such an enormous amount of agony from you guys. I mean, seriously........I would even try to hide away from a short asian girl who freakishly happy all the time if I was a senior. & I halfway notice when I'm unintentionally bothering you from stuff you SHOULD be focusing on more. & maybe you're reading this thinking 'YOU?! Never!!!', but c'mon now. I'm nice, not stupid. & I'm not holding anything against you from that. Everyone's flaw is being an annoyance. In this case, I'm sorry that I was distracting. But even so, you had accepted me and all the happiness I have.

I was INCREDIBLY intimidated when I started highschool with you guys! But that was only the first week of school until I realized how extremely down to earth you all were. My friend's older siblings would say how extremely amazing you all were as a freshmen class all-around, and I got too afraid to even speak to you guys until you all decided to talk to me first. & I'm flattered you all referred to me by my first name rather than being labeled as a 'freshman'. & I was always protected from you by just about anything. I was even more flattered when you referred to me beyond my name when you've greeted me to others as a 'little sister to me' later on in the years.

Sooner or later, you'd start to know me better than myself. There were times I would settle for the easy path when you would make me realize how much I deserved better. & how much I worry about everything these days........you would make me return back to reality.

You witnessed me being a nun, a giftbox, a flapper every once in a while, an ol' time celebrity, a tap dancer, and being silly girl #2. :) You have all the facts to blackmail me whenever you want!!! But the feeling's mutual, so we just laugh about it afterwards instead. & I trust you guys way too much to ever do something like that. Then again, you know I don't get angry easily, so it wouldn't even be fun to pull a prank on me anyway.

I would say you understand me more than any of the other classes, and the reasons why are all the stuff I rambled above.

So, of course that one big question is to ask," So where does it go from here?" From your big step into your new life to my life without you.

[I'm dedicating this space for all the things you're thinking about right now to be placed in here.]

How long will it take for us to meet again? When will we start drifting from friend to acquaintance? What would we say to each other after 8 or so years? Questions like that seemed too overwhelming to answer last fall, but seem even more overwhelming now that this is the final day to say goodbye temporarily or permanantly. Because I don't want to think about forgetting people who became a big part of me.

Maybe when I'm going off to college, I'll realize how stupid I am for even thinking crazy thoughts like this.

It's just that..........you really shouldn't tell me that visiting me again would make me feel better. Because it won't be the same. & we'll eventally change.......probably look different.....and become older and older until we can't walk anymore. 'Visiting me' is just the start of all of that. & in some ways, I'm really excited you will. I want you to show the world how unbelieveably extraordinary you are, just the way I see in you guys everyday. I want to know that there's someone who would make changes in this world for the better, and I can't picture people more perfect for the job than the Class of 2010 when I'm finishing up on getting my diploma.

& as I become a senior, I hope I make you proud.

Eventually, my fingers are going to be chopped off from typing so fast........so if there's one thing I want to say that means the most out of everything I typed about...it's this: Just know that as you go on and continue your lives.....you changed a girl back in highschool who'll never be the same because of you. For the better, of course. ;)

Congrats, Class of 2010. Just so you know, I don't like saying goodbyes. So hello to being a freshmen once again! :P

With all love,

Ressa

"Because you can."

Everyone's right. 2 more days until Pop Rocks! 3 more days until Pop Show! 4 more days until All State Solo Ensomble Competition in Austin!

I gotta focus. I gotta focus.

I must focus so much that I can't speak.....

I can't wait until I hear this again. :)

This week.

This week......

I must be on vocal rest. BIG TIME.

Must perfect my German. BIG TIME.

Have to be awake. BIG TIME.

Need to finish up all my school work. BIG TIME.

Must have A's on my report card. BIG TIME.

I must sing really good. BIG TIME.

I must resist myself from crying. BIG TIME.

Have to perform. BIG TIME.

Need to memorize all of my lyrics. BIG TIME.

I must prepare now. BIG TIME.

Need to believe I can achieve this. BIG TIME.

I must make this all happen. BIG TIME.

This is a big-timin' week for me. Brinnnnnnnnnnnnnnng it.

Tenderness without injury, injury without tenderness.

(This is a long post. Why? Because I have alot to say; just warning you.)

I had never seen my dad weak. Never.



But that's all that I've seen from him from the past 5 or so days.



It's all so crazy that it happened so suddenly at a time I least expected it.



A friend of mine dropped me off my house one day afterschool and I noticed how all 4 of our family's cars were parked in the driveway. ALL of them. (3 cars are in use......it's funny how I have a car and I don't even have my permit yet.....but yeah. Still. All of the cars are parked outside that day.)



I was like,"Ohhhhhhhhhhh snap. DID SOMEONE DIE?!"

Again, it's really abnormal to see my parents, my brother, and me all together during school weeks....or even day time for that matter. My brother has college stuff, my parents work crazy hours, and I'm at school for a crazy amount of time than most kiddos. I'm home alone most of the time and sometimes I see my brother back early from his classes. Maybe I'll see my mom from her day off, but my dad never arrives home until 5:30 or 6:30; it depends on traffic. It was only 4ish. If it's was the weekends, then I wouldn't have freaked out so much.

But this was on a Tuesday.....the day I got back from my San Antonio trip. I couldn't have been more sleep deprived......more sore........more lazy......and more cranky than I would've been on any other day. I saw those cars and a shock of fear overwhelmed my eyes, and I instantly felt alert from the chill that ran down my spine. "God.....please let everything be okay. Please....let everything be okay......."

I entered inside the house expecting my family to be in total chaos. I was imagining my mom crying and my brother yelling and my dad yelling back.

What really happened was my mom steaming vegetables inside the kitchen. I could hear my brother watching daytime shows. There was a sense of mute that filled the house 'Where's Dad?'

"Mom-"



"-Dad got in a car accident while he was walking to work."



In a way.....I was in a bittersweet relief. Thank god nobody died. But a car accident? My parents barely get car accidents. & when they do, it's always the other driver's fault. I'm sorta surprised at how well they drive for two filipinos who got americanized when moving to the US after college. But this accident was different.....it was my dad without his vehicle. A car versus a human. I can't see how a human could win against a car.



I started walking towards my parent's room...but then everything suddenly turned slow-mo when I twisted the knob. My mom didn't tell me how bad he got injured. I started to panic all over again. But then I calmed myself as the door opened. "If he was really injured.......he would've been in the emergency room. Calm down......."

I looked up........my dad was okay! But then my eyes drifted down at his leg..........and it was the total opposite.

He was lying in bed, leg wrapped in those bandage cloths you get in hospitals, and a frozen bag of peas and carrots used as an ice pack.

He woke up when I got closer to him, and he had a smile in his face that made me smile back. We just stared at each other for a moment. Dad covered in blankets.....and me standing with a bulky backpack around my shoulders.



"Dad?"



"I almost got hit."

But from his eyes, he obviously knew I had known that already.

"What happened?"

"I was walking when a lady who was talking/texting on her cellphone nearly ran into me. I instantly jumped at the side of road and I pulled a muscle."

Dad always has a way of making a serious situation sound like it's nothing bad.

Dad, stop trying to find a way to protect me. I'm 17. I can handle it. I want to help you.

"So how bad is your leg?"

Mom chimed in from the kitchen, "I had to drive him in the morning in order to carry him back home!"

My daddy was just silent. He didn't reprimand it....but he didn't deny it either.

He's just awful at being vulnerable. The way that I see it, the disability of walking hurts him more than the physical injury of his near death.

I just wanted to cry right then and there. Sorry for not sounding intellectual, but the whole world suddenly sucked. My dad wasn't the same dad I saw when he dropped me off from school that morning. He became a struggled soul trying to break free from sympathy. I'm like him in a way. We both hate it when people feel sorry for us. But that's what I wanted to give, but since I understand how he's feeling, it was sorta awkward trying to express what I wanted to say to him.

My brother came in breaking the awkwardness into pessimism. "I guess we're not going to Massachusettes this summer," as he past by the room.

NO! We can't!

I can't. I had to be there. I just had to.

My brother knows me far too well. He didn't even look at me as he replied to my silence that Dad will probably need to recover during the beginning of summer. & I don't blame him for being a downer. He was right.

"No. I'll be okay by then," was all that my Dad said as he begins to drift back into sleep.

I wonder if people view my dad as a man that lacks sensitivity or a man who's abundant in strength.

I didn't want to bother him anymore. My brother and I seperated ourselves from dad's presence and returned to our business. We returned back to our daily routines.

I couldn't see my dad for the next 3 days. I was just so busy with my personal life that I came back late from school to learn that my dad wanted to be alone for a while. So I let him be. I would hear him sometimes asking my mom to help him walk to the bathroom, which required only 3 steps, now requires 20 steps from the sounds of his legs scooting to reach for the sink.

Today was when I finally saw him walking around the house compared to him walking from room to room to lie down.

"Hey, I wanna go to CVS."

My brother agreed to drive all three of us at CVS around noontime. Again, we don't own a crane. He used his children's shoulders to guide him inside the store. It was sorta embarassing seeing people look at all three of us looking helpless. & I started to get really angry inside. 'WHAT ARE YOU GUYS STARING AT, ANYWAY?! CAN'T YOU SEE WE JUST WANT TO PURCHASE SOMETHING?!'

I reached down to grab an ankle brace at the foot care aisle. 'For a person who has an injured leg.....they can't really reach for an ankle brace conveniantly.'

I could tell that my dad was feeling the vibe strangers were giving off and he wanted to leave quick. "C'mon, let me see your shoulders......"

He purchased it and walked by leaning on his kids with his arms into the car.

My brother mentioned that we should buy crutches, and we decided to go to the Salvation Army to get one.

We did the same walking process as we met with family friends. My dad suddenly shot up and attempted to stand without us helping him.

"What happened?"

"Ahhhh, it's nothing. Just sprained a little. That's all."

The conversation ended shortly after that. He looked back to see when his friends were completely gone and returned his hands back to our backs. We entered inside.

There was more people in the Salvation Army compared to the people in CVS, but they didn't care much that we were inside. It made us feel welcomed in a way. We were nothing but average. We were amongst the crowd. My dad apparently went in the right direction and found a section that contained nothing BUT crutches. A lady who happened to be a hospital assistant saw my dad and helped him find the perfect crutches with the appropriate height. "Make sure it's not too high........you'll damage another muscle from your under arms this time!"

She was really sweet and gave good humor about my dad's injury. All of us were laughing about it and went on our separate ways.

My brother drove back home. And Daddy entered the house on his own with the crutches in each arm. I watched him from behind to make sure he won't fall.

My dad soon started to practice walking without the crutches later on in the day, which made me admire how determined he is to become independent all while realizing how useless the purchase of crutches were as he barely used them throughout the house.

I just wanted to die as I saw him walking.

It's like seeing a puppy accidentally falling into a sewer. Witnessing it was worser than the action that was trying to carry through.

His legs wobbled and his voice was throbbing in pain.

"Dad, what do you need?"

"I got it."

He suddenly fell flat out on our tiled floor shortly afterwards.

Again, my dad is good at making everything like it's no big deal. He quickly got up and weakly laughed about it. It wasn't funny to me at all.

"I'm fine, anak [child]."

I just couldn't speak to him after that. I got up and walked to my room.

I suddenly became really angry at my dad. Why does he always try to be fearless? Why can't he accept that he needs time to fully heal?

I peeked at him after a while from staying in my room, and I saw him so tired from just standing in the kitchen. He looked so.......unhappy. And from that moment, I knew.

I knew that all he ever wanted was for his family to pretend that there was never a chance that he wouldn't be alive. He wanted himself to walk to make him believe everything can and will be the way it used to be. He really wants to see Massachusettes with the family this summer.

He's walking back to the room huffing out," This step is for my wife.....this step is for my son.....this one's for my daughter....."

His love for us never changed; that aspect of him being a father had always stayed the same.

Please, people. Please think twice about using your phone while driving. I could've been fatherless 5 days ago.

Just know that for every button you press, every time your eyes aren't focused on the road.....you'll have a chance on hurting someone. Atleast be smart about it and not use it when you're in a busy road. But the chances are the same. Every person you encounter in life is loved in some way. You hurt them, you're hurting every person that that person loved and is loved from.

In this case, the lady who talked on her phone hurt my dad. That lady hurt me.

Rules.

Okay, so I'm gonna say it riiiiiiight now.

I'm not the girl who gives the best advice.

But, I'll always listen.

That's pretty much it. I'm sorta useless after that.

Lately, I just can't help but notice the same people having the same situations, new people with having these old situations those very same people already had in their past, old people with situations they can never solve, and those situations that are answered and solved with people who can't seem to see what's right in front of them.

I don't really know how to help.

But I guess I'll give people the best advice no one ever told me before. Actually it was an 'it' that gave me this advice. A piece of paper. An image of a piece of paper I found in photobucket images that I've kept and saved in my files to look at whenever I'm feeling down.

I hope this helps someone.

Mwah.