"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.

Just another canvas.

I've walked out of that place having the best time ever. And at the same time, I wished school would be finished already.


The endings of all my highschool years....are just.......the same.



It's not a bad thing. It really isn't. But expecting everything to be over like it always has been is getting me...in some way.....deprived?



Is there something missing along the road of my highschool years?



I feel like sky diving, running a marathon, scuba diving in an ocean. Writing, mostly. Actually, writing always. Even more than singing sometimes.



Or is it possible that my junior year is everything I imagined it to be? I always begin and end; recycle and repeat.



Should it feel continuous? Is there an ending? Or do I have to paint on a blank canvas all over again?



I've liked my paintings. Why push it away? Brush it off? Pretend like it wasn't as important as your current drawing? It all seems so jaded.


Maybe I'm still not over with letting go.

If you haven't noticed, I'm horrible with saying goodbyes.

I wish I have someone to talk to about this. Not that I don't trust people, but I feel like the only one feeling this way. Maybe I'm wrong, but I know that it bothers me most than others. I've been such a fool.

& I must face it.

Nothing but Normal.

This was supposed to be a normal Thursday.

I assumed that it will be one of those 'nice' choir concerts and end it with a sweet goodbye.

But then I looked out at the stage when the seniors performed their song together and I just bawled.

I just can't see them go. I really can't.

It all makes me think, really.

How we all share that stage.........the love we put in singing to others and to ourselves.....that amazing feeling when you're a part of something that makes others be in awe......that sorta thing.....isn't really normal at all.

I can't explain it all right now.

Just..... thank you, Encore. For making me have a normally unnormal life. I don't know how I'll live with myself next year. You guys are brave.

Where and how.

Giving brief thanks to my roomie who let me use her labtop. You know who you are. :)

I've been asking these questions to myself for the past two days.

I've been staying here in San Antonio for a short trip out of school. & from this location of where I've seen since the past 5 years, it's taught something I never knew before.

Like, say you were me in San Antonio 5 years ago.

I was a lot more quieter, probably a tad bit awkward, had knowledge of being pretty familiar with the place, but extremely intrigued with its view and long lost history. I was into the Alamo, the famous river walk boat tour, the historical figure statues as you walked by it, and worst of all......I was nuts over tourism stores. I'd always buy shirts and pens that say 'San Antonio' from their never-ending clearance sale, and I'd get postcards that have a picture of the Alamo and Texas flag. I don't know why I liked purchasing postcards; there was no one I could think of sending a postcard to. It was all because I thought that's what a 'tourist' does.

And here I am now.

Apparently, I am a 'boy (yup, I typed that correct) who has rabies, enjoys making porn, is in love with my roommate, and yet, my roommate wants to eat me.' (But of course, that statement is a total inside joke.)

After watching an IMAX cinema movie on the 'The Alamo: The Price on Freedom', I was like," Ohhhhhmygoshhhhhhh. Like I didn't know this before!" But it was good quality. & Santa Anna, although he was the bad guy, sorta looked dreamy with his white feather hat.

I was sorta relieved that we didn't do a river boat tour, because they always say the same things every time I hop inside, and I have to wait until the WHOLE tour is over so I can reunite with land. I despise tourist stores now. I don't know why, it just makes you stand out as being a FOB when going on vacation, you know? I like pulling off an impression saying,"I've always lived here" sorta vibe. But I DO admit, I bought one 'San Antonio' shirt there. It was a good price; don't hate.

Instead of being in full awe of the city's scenery, I was in awe of the people who I shared it with, my second family away from my very own.

I'm gonna say now, I had an EXTREME amount of fun, and I can't really go on and describe every single thing that happened. This blog post would take months for all the little details during the trip to actually make sense to people who didn't go. Sorry. I feel corny for saying this, but you just had to be there.

What I WILL go on and say is that San Antonio, a location that gave me no meaning, no significance, no vibe, & no memories sure do now.

So let me ask,"How?"

How can a place change my mind? How can a location that I've always known and briefly visited in my past give me new lessons learned from the past 4 days it welcomed me?

& if San Antonio can make change me, why can't Dawson High School change the way I am as well by the next 2 weeks?

Mmmmmmmm. Maybe it will next year.....

I am now considering.....if all else fails with my out-of-state college choices.....that I'll agree to go to college in San Antonio.

& for now, don't ask me if I'm happy to be back. I love you all, but how? How can I say I am when I had one of the best weekends ever?!

I can never look at the dog and octopus from the Wiggles the same way ever again, haha.

Because of her.

Obviously, based on my last blog, it's not all rainbows and butterflies with my mother. But for the most part, it's not like we're gonna have angry words get the best out of us.



It's kinda sad, though. In a way, I sorta feel ashamed for myself.



There were times when I thought," Man, I never.....ever....wanna be like my mom."



But then I think about how much she did for me to be alive.



I was nearly 2 or 3 months premature when I was born. & when my mom was pregnant with me, the doctor told my parents I was their last time in having a child.



My mother was sorta disappointed, because she really wanted 3 kids. She had a miscarriage, but then happily had a son. & he was all she ever asked for.



But then one day, she felt like......something was missing. But it wasn't something at all.....but a some'one' instead.



She motivated herself in trying to have another child again.



Little did she know it took her 8 weeks of bedrest, a near-death experience on an overdosage on medications (stupid doctor), one full season of Medicine Woman, 3 yarns of string for knitting handmade blankets, and hundreds and thousands of times gagging herself in the toilet to get what she wanted. Me.



& when I was in her arms for the very first time, she said,"You're worth it."



She taught me to smile without drooling over my bib.

She taught me to say words without using them negatively.

She taught me to love without crossing the line.

She taught me to be strong without looking like Hulk Hogan.

She taught me to be right without pointing fingers.

She taught me to forgive without doubts.

She taught me to be myself without following anyone.

She taught me well.


How dare did I ever doubt myself that my mom isn't this amazing?! & my prebirth hero.


I'm very much like my mom.




Because of her, I'm me.

Here's my Mother's Day video. I literally woke up from a nap from this vid. x] But I don't feel like re-doing it.

Not right now.

I have to spend some time with my mommy. <3

Tears shown.

What I hate most, more than anything in the world, is letting my mom see me cry.



The worst part is, that just happened 3 hours ago.



& I apologize for typing something so emo-y today. I'll type a happier post next time, promise.



But how can someone blame me for not wanting anything to stand in my way? I have the pop show auditions TOMORROW, and I needed to have my mom's credit card in order to buy the instrumental track online.



I thought," No big deal, she's bought karaoke songs from this site PLENTLY times before in Cabaret, Christmas, & last year's Pop Show. & it didn't seem to cause any credit theft. This is a widely known karaoke site that EVERYONE uses. She won't mind at all."



So here I go, walking to the kitchen of where my mom was cooking dinner early.



"Mom, can I have your credit card?"



"Why?"



"I need to buy a karaoke track to the song I'm auditioning tomorrow for the Pop Show."



"What? No."



So here I am, remaining calm but slightly irritated of her rejection to my request.



"Mom....please? It's for TOMORROW."



"What song?"



"One Step at a Time."



"By who?"



"Jordin Sparks."



"Uh-who?"



"JORDIN SPARKS."



So here is where I slightly show my frustration in her insisted bombarded questioning.



"Oh no.....that's not good. No more. I want you to sing something else."



You know, it was cute that my parents were in control of the song choices I sang when I was 3. And I'm EXTREMELY grateful of how they guided me to sing songs about true love, true hope, and true meaning that brought artistry into my voice at such a young age. But this is NOT the achy-breaky-tearyeyed singing show. It's a POP show, that ends the year giving kids a good kick-off to their summer vacation. They don't want to listen to singer-after-singer singing a song about love fading away. & I just don't want to agree to something that will take away the chance of putting me into a label of a 'Debbie Downer" singer just so my parents could be pleased. 'One Step at a Time' gives a positive message about achieving your dreams.....it's the SAME message for 'I Believe I Can Fly'! C'mon, now! & I DO agree to songs my parents want me to sing...eventually. But now that the school is ending....it made me realize how much I NEED to be in control of what songs I chose. Atleast for the Pop Show. I can't long distance my parents every time I'm preparing a performance in college, and I feel like my parents could trust me that I have good taste in music as well. Because honestly, I don't think kids would appreciate listening 'My Heart Will go On'. My parent's taste just doesn't match our generation's taste. NOT that it's a bad thing that they have a different taste. But it's not the most appropriate fit for an occasion such as the event I'm practicing for. You know?



"Mom, you don't understand. I have already agreed to do this song from teachers and peers. I can't find another song in time for tomorrow's audition. Please. Can I use your credit card?"



"I don't like how you always ask for something. I want to listen first."



"I'll let you listen when I actually HAVE the karaoke."



"No!"



UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.



"Mom! How can I sing the song to you when I DON'T have the karaoke?! Unless you want to listen to the 15 second karaoke sample on the internet!"



"Yes...."



Although my mom was angry, she actually did a good job in calmly cooking. She always had a knack for multi-tasking.



This was where everything my mom has said was starting to make absolutely no sense. Yes? YES?! Mommy.....do you think that hearing me sing 6 words off of a sampling music would "swoon" your opinion in letting me buy it?! REALLY?! I bet you wouldn't care to listen to the sampling if I decided to sing 'Wind Beneath my Wings'!!!



"Mom.....I don't have time to argue. I have homework to do and I really want to prepare now because my voice won't be so sore for tomorrow if I did do it later today."



"No!"



Mom carefully washed the chopped vegetables in the sink.



There was something about the way my mom said no.....something about the way I didn't like how too much stuff is happening all at once in my life for school to end right.....something about how patience and reasoning and making logical sense didn't seem to connect with my mom's decision IN saying no....something about how I didn't like this conversation AT all.....made me tick.



"MOM! WHAT IS YOUR DEAL?!"



"My deal? You!"



OH MY GOSH. ARE YOU KIDDING ME NOW?!



" Were you just waiting for me to come home just so you can have a person to argue with all day?!"



"I don't like your attitude right now!"



AGAIN. OH MY GOSH. Mom, duh. OF COURSE you wouldn't!



"MOM! Stop trying to control the decisions I make! You don't even give me chance! Don't act like your my vocal coach!"



She chuckles. "I'm NOT trying to be your voice teacher-"



"-Then STOP! I NEED TO USE YOUR CREDIT CARD NOW!"



"Kids these days! So ungrateful to their parents!"



I don't remember what I said to her after that. But I broke down. & I usually don't when I argue, but I can't be any more ashamed of my mom. Did I not do a good job in filling my parents in on what my life is like in highschool? Did I fail as a singer into bringing my full potential down the drain by parents who DON'T GET IT?! Am I the worst daughter in the world because I want my mom to buy me ONE thing?! A karaoke instrumental?! Strictly because of SCHOOL-RELATED BUSINESS?! How....how could my mom possibly conclude that it's all because I'M ungrateful?! I wouldn't ask if I had a job.....but my parents told me that MY job was to focus on school.



Do you understand my frustration?!



It all brought me tears. And I mean, hardcore-crying-out-loud bawling tears.



"Mom......really? Am I THAT horrible of a child? Some girls in my school ask for cars and expensive shoes and custom-made fit clothes and swavorski jewelry! I didn't asked you to buy me ANYTHING BUT a 99-cent song! Kids my age right now are doing bad things! I simply just want a song so I can practice for an audition for my school's pop show! Here! At my house! Trying to find a way to become a better person for doing what I love to do the most!!!!"



I ended up continually crying until I couldn't speak out anything.



My mom's response: "No! Your attitude absolutely sucks! Just STOP IT! NOW! STOP TRYING TO PUSH ME AROUND! I SAID NO AND THAT'S FINAL!"



When I get extremely frustrated, angry, and depressed, I don't act like myself.



I simply walked away, grabbed my mom's purse when she wasn't looking and bought the karaoke anyway.



& I don't regret doing this at all.



And knowing my mom for 17 years, she would forgive me the next day.



But something about practicing the song afterward.....made me feel like a such a hiney-hole.



I remembered about the blog I'd written a few weeks ago about having a change of heart.



Did I kept my promise?



It felt as if I DID, but my parents...didn't kept their word on their part.



Or is it the other way around?



Have I been pushing my parents around lately? When did I!? Yesterday.....my confirmation.....last saturday......my singing competition and SATS........last friday.....driving me to the mall-OHHHH SNAP. My family does revolve their life around me. Crap.



But they didn't seem to complain. & they OFFERED me to get a new dress at the mall. PLUS, they were understanding and very patient with me when they've drove me everywhere. Does my genuine thank you's show enough?



They know I'm preparing for college. They know I have to add more plans in my schedule in order to achieve this goal.



How can they not know how much music means to me? I thought they did. But I guess it takes longer than my current life span to actually let them comprehend.



And I mean.....truly know! I'm not talking about paying for my voice lessons. If any parent thinks that paying for lessons means a complete understanding of a child's devotion to something....anything......they're wrong-er than adding water to acid.



But here I am eating my dinner....and it's pasta with fettucini and assorted vegetables. My mom knows I love all of her pasta dishes. We were arguing all this time, and she still kept on cooking my favorite dish of hers. I don't think I'll ever figure out my mom sometimes.



What do I chose......making my family happy or making myself happy more?



I dont know how to answer that question.

So why make a post about something that went horrible today? Because I am aware about the things going wrong in my life. I'm not asking for pity and advice. I'm not trying to say my life is the absolute worst. But, I do want to share that you aren't alone when dealing with family issues. This arguement may be NOTHING like your fights at home or even with what your dealing with right now. But don't judge by thinking this mini arguement of mine meant nothing to me. & the fact that your family disagreements aren't anything significant either. Just know that I have my faults, too. But I'm happy to know yours and embrace them with my own.



But for today, now 5 hours ago, I have made a mistake.



The tears fallen were proof.

Everyday...

....what a wonderful world.

I'm so not J-Lo.

(warning: freakishly longggg post. This makes up for my last two not-so-great posts.)

Even I am afraid of gaining happiness sometimes.


It always starts off with staying inside. By trying to prevent harm, I avoid being outside.


I couldn't do that today, as I woke up at 6am in the morning to let my dad drive me all the way to the U of H to take my SATs.


I left the van in a trance of absolute confusion. 'I'm not suppose to be taking this....I'm way to young.'


But this wasn't the case as I showed the lady my school I.D and admission ticket to enter the room.



The lady chuckled at my I.D, and we both shared laughs with each other as she checked off my name on the list.



I forget how ridiculous my school photo i.d was since I was used to looking at the picture of me doing a peace sign with the words 'I love you' across my fingers everyday around my neck. I guess most schools wouldn't let students pose like that in their I.D. 'Nice first impression, Ressa!'



I situated myself with the seat in the front row center.



I looked back at the kids in line as I waited patiently to begin.



All the kids looked like they were 20ish years old, had baggy clothes on, and all shared the generic scent of soap. I don't know what brand, but it's soap: the cheap kind.



And here I was, sitting in the front, wearing nice dark washed jeans & a pink, flowery top with the scent of my body spray to match. My makeupless face gave the youth of a 13 year old, and my feet were adorned with studded straps from my black, fashion-forward gladiator sandals in contrast to my neighbor, who had scuffed-edged white sneakers. Well, actually, it's more like a beige color. But, I think the shoes used to have been white, and I sorta like how it's beige. It gave the stranger personality. 'DANG IT! WHY?! WHY CAN'T I FIT IN?!'



The owner of those sneakers glanced at me looking, and I felt sorta stupid for being caught staring at them. "Nice shirt," he said to me as he was completely oblivious to my fascination of his shoes, and I looked at him in deer headlights. He sorta smiled at me, but I didn't know if it was for sincerity or for sarcasm. 'Play on the safe side. Don't let it lead to conversation.'



"Thanks," I said. & that was our conversation. Once I said it, he winked back at his group of friends as they gave teasing snickers and mini roars. 'Dangit. He's gonna torture me.'



I assumed he was going to add a remark as he returned to face me, but the lady announced that testing has officially begun.



That was all of my "social interaction" from that morning. & it sorta gave me relief; I didn't really wanna know what everyone thought of me when I walked passed them during breaks. 'I feel like a total loser."



At the end of the SATs, I walked out the door as one of the flambouyant girls in my testing room came to holla, "Yo, girl! With the flowers!"



'OH SNAPPPPP. I'M GONNA BE JUMPED.'



"Yes?" I heard myself reply.



"Are you related to a celebrity?"



"No.......?"



"Really, gurllll?! My friends & I were debating whether you looked more like a cross between J-Lo and Brenda Song or Jessica Alba and that girl from High School Musical as we were in our 5 minute breaks."



I just kept giving her the deer in the headlights face; the same one I did for the dude with the sneakers. 'WHAAAAAA?!?! Is this a joke?!'



She seemed ridiculously friendly along with her other friends behind her smiling back. I kept looking at the girl, who in my opinion, has a more dynamic face of a celebrity than I do, and noticed her patience in waiting for my answer.

She was absolutely serious.

I uttered," No wayyyyyy, if I was related to any of them, I wouldn't have to take the SATs to get into college!"


The two of us gave snickers which turned into hysterical laughter from my response. She offered me a high-five as I offered my hand to recieve it. We exchanged brief kind words to each other and said bye as I walked to my dad sitting in the bench.



"Anak, it's time to go to that filipino american competition today at 3."



My dad had been bugging me to try out for it 2 months ago and I agreed only to make him stop asking.



I didn't know it had to be right now. 'Great....this is what I get for being a good daughter."



"Sure Dad," I said. He patted my back as we both walked into the van.



He dragged me all the way to Fiesta. Yeah, that's right. The marketplace with the parrot as their mascot. The competition was in front of the entrance. 'Wow............how filipino."



I filled out the register form as I looked at my competitors looking at me. 'I wonder if they think I look like J-Lo.'



I gave a chuckle to myself from thinking that thought while finishing the form, and suddenly the line of girls gathered together in a tight circle....all taking turns to point at me. 'DUDE, WHY DO PEOPLE LIKE TALKING ABOUT ME TODAY?! WHAT'S THE DEAL?!?!"



Apparently, they all had already auditioned for the judges, and I was quickly given my contestant number and microphone upon entering the stage. I was surround by a live audience all seated with those flippy chairs that fold into a chair. (note: taking the SATs made me dumbify my vocabulary. Sorry.) The three judges all sat right in front of me with a portable table to rest their judge papers.



I sang. & the audience became silent.



I finished. & the audience cheered as I stepped down the stage. A random guy grabbed my arm and told me," Hey, the audience never did that to anyone all day." I briefly smiled at him in gratitude and returned to my father. 'Nahhh.....that can't be true.'



The same group of girls who pointed at me earlier came toward me and told me how great I was, and I said quick thank you's as I walked off to leave with my dad. 'They probably think I sing better than J-Lo.'



It all brought me back to reflect on those first couple of sentences in this blog. But then, I had a day like this. I was afraid of living a life turned into something incredibly wrong when it only turned into more joy out of an experience. This result wouldn't exactly be the same for every person, but it ended up being the result with me.

Maybe, I don't have to be afraid anymore. Because maybe....just maybe, I bring happiness wherever I go.



I'll probably go outside more often. I want to share my happiness.