30 Day Blog Challenge!

So, I stole this idea from my friend Paloma who stole it from her friend! Anyways, I thought it'd be a really fun thing to try out, and now that Halloween weekend is officially over (which I spent in Santa Barbara and I'm sick because of it, so that alone tells you how much fun it was), I can begin on this. Here are the topics:

Day 1: A photo of yourself and a description of how your day was.
Day 2: The meaning behind your name.
Day 3: About your friends.
Day 4: About your family.
Day 5: A photo of somewhere you've been to.
Day 6: A song that makes you cry.
Day 7: A photograph of the town you live in.
Day 8: 15 facts about yourself.
Day 9: A photo of you taken over ten years ago.
Day 10: Your best friend.
Day 11: An art piece (painting, drawing, sculpture, etc.)
Day 12: 10 things you'd like to do before you die.
Day 13: An old photo.
Day 14: Something you love about yourself.
Day 15: A travel Story.
Day 16: A photo that makes you smile.
Day 17: Your definition of love.
Day 18: A letter to someone you miss.
Day 19: A habit you wish you didn’t have.
Day 20: A letter to your parents.
Day 21: Anything.
Day 22: What would you say is your biggest fear when it comes to relationships?
Day 23: Your idea of the perfect first date.
Day 24: A song that makes you smile.
Day 25: Who would you invite to the perfect dinner party?
Day 26: A photo of an animal you'd love to keep as a pet.
Day 27: 20 of your favorite things.
Day 28: What attracts you to someone.
Day 29: Future plans/goals.
Day 30: A photograph of yourself today + three good things that happened in the past 30 days.

Of everything techy, I think I hate printers the most.

After battling an hour and a half installing my dad's new wireless HP printer I feel exhausted and mentally strained. It's not that I'm technically-challened, I'm just not as tech-savvy as others. I don't think I blame the printer exactly. I think I mostly blame the modem...no, I blame the printer. It didn't help that after loading paper into the printer that it decided to swallow about five pieces, ripping the last two into shreds I had to handpick out of its internals. Honestly, I don't understand why printers hate me. I've always had problems with each one I've owned. Whatever, the deed is done.

Weather like this inspires me to write, and I don't know why I'm writing. I just feel like it. I love to write. Ever since eigth grade, when I won an award for writing a short story, I've loved to write. In a way, I need to write. I don't care if people read what I write, or even like what I write about, it's kind of like therapy - for what? Life? Sometimes. Other times, it's simply for enjoyment. Like playing my newly bought Xbox. Speaking of, I love my Xbox. I really feel like I should've bought one sooner. For the past couple of days I've just been lazing about, neglecting reading - which I overloaded myself with last week - and anything else school-wise. I have an online midterm I need to take care of before Friday, and an essay to write on a book I have yet to finish due that same day (=Thurs is cram day). The essay I'm not worried about. What I am worried about is that I have about a hundred more pages to read. The book is about America becoming a republic...needless to say, it's not the most interesting book in the world. I've been doing well, though. Admittedly, a lot of the reading I get assigned I only read about half of. And I bullshit the other chapters by simply reading the summary. It works, which is good. Another thing, I applied for a job at Macy's - strictly seasonal - to make more money to pay for school (sigh). I had an interview Tues, but no news so far. I just applied today to the Macy's at Victoria Gardens. Here's to hoping. Money is the number one issue right now. Lifeguarding basically screwed me over, and AMC is a no-go. I didn't get financial aid this year, so it's a big stress factor. All I made over the summer went to fall quarter, and the same goes for winter. Sure, I have money NOW. But by winter, all of that is going to be gone - and then what? I feel like I need to be looking for an "office job" and don't get me wrong, I've applied. But the competition is fierce, especially at my school. The only reason I chose Macy's is because I know that they give you a ton of hours during winter season, as most retail places do. But Macy's is the biggest department store hiring, and I really, really hope I get the job. Anyhoot, dinner is calling.

That's right kids! It's update time!

Ha, to be honest there isn't much to update on. Unfortunately, my life is quite ordinary. Or wait, is that so bad really...? Hm, indecisive about answering that at the moment. Anyway, a couple of things have happened. Firstly, an update on my family situation. Things are much, much better. However, my dad had a slight relapse today. It wasn't horrible, certainly something I could handle without having to call my BGF Josh ugly-crying (yes, ugly-crying, as in your crying is so out of control that you automatically revert to a hot mess). I really owe writing Josh an ode for being with me through all this. My other best friends are simply too far (as in San Francisco, Santa Barbara, freaking Maryland!) - and I've really needed someone here, here for me anytime. A 24/7 on-call best friend. And I know my bezzies would be here if they could - don't get me wrong - but I'm just thankful one of them can be an on-call friend. If Josh had a best friend theme song it would be, quite rightfully, "On Call" by Kings of Leon. Not only has he been there with me at obscure hours of the night, but given me cheer-up gifts that rock my world. An exemplary friend, Josh is. Truly.

Other than family, I started my JUNIOR YEAR this past Thursday. It gives me shivers telling people it's my junior year in COLLEGE. It just makes me feel so old, a constant reality check. No messing around for me - I'm more determined than I've ever been in regards to school. I'm double majoring in Literature and Sociology. This decision took a while to make - but it seriously needed to be made. It's time for me to start taking classes for my major(s), although I still need to take a few more GE classes (oooh, and don't get me started on how much I hate those; colleges just want your money, forcing you to take classes you don't even need!) But I finally decided that teaching is the route I want to go down. Looking more into speech therapy - it's definitely an interesting field but unfortunately I'd have to go to an entirely different school, and right now that's not going to happen. In fact, my whole reel about transferring back to UCSB probably isn't going to happen. Revisiting made me realize just how much money it takes to go to that school, and if all I want to be is a teacher, I don't see any purpose in transferring back...of course, it's disappointing to admit that I probably won't. I really wanted to, I wanted to live with my friends over there, live on my own again....but it's for the better good. I know I won't regret it as an adult with tons of bills to pay. Anyway, the reason I'm double majoring is...well, why the hell not? Why only get a minor in something? It's just a few more classes, and sure you have to do a senior project, but since I plan on staying a fifth year anyway, there really isn't an excuse NOT to double major. Also, the reason I chose Sociology is because along with being a teacher, I'd also like to try and be a high school counselor. It's something I've always considered, and I think it would be extremely humbling as well as rewarding for me, just as an individual. Plus, I've always harbored an intense interest in social work considering my family used to take care of foster children for five years (which taught me so much about others from backgrounds different than my own), and I've enjoyed all the Soc classes I've taken. The discussions are so interesting in those classes. So unlike most of my others. They really throw you out of what YOU'RE used to, and drag you into a situation you might not even know existed....in short, I like Soc because it really makes you think about people. And let's face it, people are everything in a sense. It makes you think deeply - even though the evidence is sometimes staring you in the face.

The last tidbit is about boys. I'm in trouble. That's about all I'll say.

Why I'm doing this NOW, I have no idea.

Here I am in my room, listening to the acoustic version of "Skeletons" by one of my favorite bands (the Yeah Yeah Yeahs)...and I'm finally ready to write down what's been happening lately, something I've been trying to avoid. But something I can't continue pretending isn't happening.

My family is falling apart. My tiny family of three, consisting of only my mother, father, and I. My little family has always been close, we're all we have. Although my mother has family in South Korea and talks to her sister on a weekly basis, she hasn't been back since she left in 1989. I don't know if it's because her parents passed and she doesn't have an obligation to - or if she really doesn't care to revisit like she's claimed before. She did live there for 33 years after all...I suppose if I lived in Fontana for 33 years (not happening), which could be comparable to Seoul though it isn't a "big city," I wouldn't want to desperately revisit it either. But at the same token, after twenty-one years? Well, maybe.

When it comes to my dad's side of the family, it's your quintessential dysfunctional train wreck of relations. Everyone has family secrets. But the Garners have more than your average messed up family. I hardly know any of my relatives on the Garner side and, to be quite frank, I wouldn't want to meet a few of them either. My dad was raised by my great-grandmother (whom I never met considering my dad is 71) until he was 7 - only infrequently visited by his mother. My grandmother (who died when I was 3) was, as my father often puts it, "a crazy woman." Fiery, rebellious, she got pregnant with my dad at 19, married the man (first husband Garner), divorced him after she found out he would rather abort my father and dumped him at her mom's for whatever reason until she got remarried. The only love my father ever knew was from his grandmother - he's told me this multiple times. From his mom's second marriage he gained two brothers, Stanley and Mike, who have always been a big disappointment to my dad for as long as I can remember. When Stanley was born, my dad was 9. 11 when Mike was born. My dad was more like their caretaker than brother. My grandmother, being who she was, would frolic and have her fun, often leaving my dad to do her job - that is cook, clean, watch over Stan and Mike, change diapers, clothe them, do laundry, and whatever other so-called "feminine things" mother's are known to do. His stepfather was a cook in the Navy, and my dad was a military brat for most of his childhood. Stan and Mike's father was simply a provider and "semi-father" to his biological sons, and nothing more than a solid provider to my dad. My dad used to always tell me that his lack of a father drew him closer to God, that although he didn't have an earthly father, he didn't lack a heavenly one. There's a lot of things I won't know about my dad's childhood - those things parents choose not to tell their children. What I do know is that regardless of his family, he did thoroughly enjoy his childhood and misses it from time to time, like anyone with a good childhood does. But why am I writing all this down? To gain a perspective on what's happening now.

I don't know exactly when his drinking problem started, or how or even really why - all I know is that he has one now. And it's almost a daily battle in our household, an honest poison leaking into what I once thought of as a near-perfect family.

When I was younger my dad was working two full-time jobs. So I didn't see him as much as some people might have seen theirs as a kid (or quite the opposite) and of course we did go on family vacations, and occasionally do father-daughter bonding things (like when he took me fishing at Seal Beach and I caught my first and only fish at 7 or to the San Diego Zoo or, of course, when he'd take me to Disneyland), but as a youngster I saw my dad as this dear, dear figure whose mere presence filled me with this kind of impalpable joy. Not to say that I loved my father more than my mother, etc, it was simply different between the two. I felt such admiration towards him and craved his approval. Growing up, I wanted very much to be like him. Living in our old apartment in Los Alamitos, I clearly remember my dad coming home, dressed to the nines in his military uniform, all professional - something about that uniform, the way my mother and I took it to the dry cleaners every week, how he'd let me unfold his Air Force hat and place it atop his head - it just made me that much more proud and happy that this important person was mine. I would just light up as a little girl - happy my dad was home with my mom and I. When I was young, my parents never fought. I never heard them even once argue. The first time I heard my parents fight was when I was 13, and that was heart shattering as anyone whose experienced it knows. But it was only that once. Gradually, they started "bickering" more - just little disagreements that were settled within minutes. But other than that, nothing more. Both my parents are very religious, and we used to go to church as a family up until we moved to Fontana when I was 9. That's when my dad started working not only weekdays but weekends, to help pay for our new house since my mom didn't work. Being that age, I didn't realize the stress my dad was going through to make those mortgage payments and pay the bills. My dad rarely showed if he was stressed. It wasn't until I was 15, 16 that my dad started to "act his age" - in other words, he grew more sentimental, got hurt easier - they "toughen up" (get more stubborn) and they also become less mature and super sensitive with age ironically - at least in my experience with my father. If I was spending too much time with my friends or boyfriend, he would tell me "Well what about me? What about your dad?" And ever since then it's been the same thing - ever since I was 15 I've known my dad felt unappreciated a lot of the time. As a teen, I KNOW I spent way more time with my parents than most of the other kids my age. My parents and I would go out almost 2-3 times a week, watching movies, eating out, going to Starbucks, just talking or staying home and spending time together as a family. When I went to college at UCSB...I didn't consider that life at home would be different if/when I came back. When I was away, my parents fared well without me, even though they missed me. When I transferred home it was like the floodgates of misfortune decided to rain down upon me. Not to waste more space about my past relationship, but getting over it really took its toll on me. I didn't want to be at home, where all I'd do was think about why it failed, how miserable I was, so I made it a point to go out and do something everyday. Open up, make friends, and I got so carried away I was hardly and, to be honest, am still hardly ever home (not to mention school and work). My mom got a job, one she still has, and she's hardly ever home either. In fact, my dad is the one who's home most now - alone. I didn't think this could ever turn into a bad thing but it did. What I found out is that my dad is weak-minded. That the person I held so much high-esteem for was...not who I thought him to be. In his drunken stupor he spouts that I set too high of standards for him, that he's not perfect, and he feels so justified about drinking it makes me sick to my stomach. I'm not going to go into detail because there's just so much to be said, and it will only make me feel worse about this whole situation, but my family is on the rocks as it were. I've tried everything and as far as what happened a few nights ago, I'm only just recovering from a huge falling out with my dad. I can't change him, my mom can't change him. God help us. I know a lot of people go through this, in fact I know a lot of people who have - and my friends are really my rock right now. I can't thank God enough for them and for how much strength they've given me. I keep telling myself that this will make me stronger - just like my last relationship did - but just like that scenario, the damage is done. Except now it's family. I can make this work, but my dad needs to be willing. I used to think my dad and I were made from the same cookie cutter but I am a lot unlike him than I once thought. I won't ignore his problem, I'll scream and kick and yell everyday if I have to. But I'll never give up, I'll never stop even though he's unwilling - I have hope that one day he'll realize what he's done/what he's doing - and honestly, that's all I got.

In Limbo.

My life has rolled into, what I like to call, a "transitional period." It's a euphemism really. I feel completely in limbo - it's like I'm waiting for something, but I'm not sure what that something is. I feel like I'm not doing enough. I'm twenty. Twenty. I feel as if I need to be doing more. More, more, more. I feel like everyone else my age is doing so much more than me - living on their own, doing meaningful things such as volunteering and holding leadership positions, interning. And all I'm doing is skimming by school and working. That's why I've made it my goal to start volunteering - anywhere and everywhere. I want to be apart of something bigger than myself. I want to be involved in something important and meaningful. Something that will make me a better person. To be honest, I feel like I've been slacking. Just doing the bare minimum of what I need to do in order to be a successful human being. I know I'm hard on myself but it's something that I know will never change about me. I'm hard on myself because I need to be - otherwise, I would never get anything done. Never go above and beyond. Future-wise, I've been thinking a lot about what I'm going to do after graduation. It's really starting to weigh on my mind. That's not very far off. And I've yet to decide which route I want to go down. Get my credentials (if teaching is the route I choose)? Go straight back to school and get my Master's? Join the Air Force? Go on a spontaneous adventure, volunteer in the Peace Corps? Teach English abroad in South Korea? There's so many directions my life can take me, and although I'd love to just run off and join the Peace Corps it's highly unlikely that will happen. First, I have to start paying off my student loans. It's not like I can run off to Latin America or Africa with debt trailing behind me. Of course, if I'm going to be a teacher, I have to get my credentials before anything...but I've been really thinking about joining the Air Force. It's always been a good option. Smart. Stable. Practical. Right away, I'd be getting an income. Be able to manage my loans, and get a head start on my adult life. It would provide housing. New experiences. And hopefully I'd be able to be stationed in South Korea. Besides the Air Force, another viable option would be taking a year off and teaching English in South Korea. I've always wanted to do this, and it would be the perfect timing to do such a thing. When else in life am I going to have the time/opportunity? The time to decide what I'm going to do is winding down. I just hope I make the right choices when it comes down to it.

Sick, yet again.

There is nothing worse than being sick in the summer. NOTHING. Dramatic I know, but it is horrendous. I got sick from my mom who picked something up from one of her co-workers. But the quickness with which I picked it up probably has to do with me overworking myself. I've been working every single day since summer started practically. In fact, I never get a day off unless I request it off. Granted, I am making BANK. But at the same time working so much left me with little time with Caitie while she was down here, and I'm trying to schedule in an L.A. trip with Vanessa before she leaves next weekend. Just another reminder of growing up. Scheduling EVERYTHING, saying goodbye to best friends who live in entirely different cities/states, working like a dog, searching for that desperately needed break in the form of friend/family/beloved couch time...or simply getting sick, which is sad to say WOULD be a vacation if I could afford it. Alas, I have a runny nose that's gushing like a waterfall, a throat that feels like sandpaper and work at 7. I wish I could call in, but it's much too late for that and for some odd reason, I refuse to because I feel it's my responsibility to work despite feeling like utter poo. Why? No idea.

Time to suck it up. Or blow my nose.

Friendship, Love, Me

Friendship is a hard thing. It's hard to hold onto, even though it should be easy. You really have to put a lot of effort into it, at least if you want it to last. It really deserves the -ship at the end of it, because of all relationships it is the most important. Without friendship, life would be unimaginable. If you look back on your life, the happiest and most fun times are those shared with friends. Well, at least for me. Good friends become family and good family become friends.

Losing a good friend...

Now it's happened to everyone. And it's a terrifying thing. When you're close friends with someone, best friends, you "know" that you will always be friends. This is a mistake, but not one you can control because in all honesty that is what you think indefinitely. In fact, not being friends with them is unimaginable. But then it happens...and it messes up your notion of indefinitely knowing ANYTHING.

If you were 100 percent positive that the two of you would be friends forever and then one day (and it happens gradually but at the same time seems to end like the last flicker of a candle - quickly) you simply are not...

It's scary. Anything you're sure of you're no longer sure of.

The same is true of love. You know that in the end you will know each other forever, love each other forever...and then one day, same as with a friend, it's gone. And you're left wondering if you can ever be sure of anything.

And the answer is...quite obviously, no, you cannot.

But it's weird how we think we can be so sure of something. That's the newest life lesson I've learned.

Then there's also me...

Who I am. What I'm like.

I've been thinking about it a lot.

I know me, obviously. But at the same time...I don't understand some of the things I do.

That question you routinely find asking yourself: "Why did I do that?" or even "Why am I like this?" I've been asking myself a lot lately.

And then the insecure question you don't want to even be asking yourself because you're sure it's just you being vain: "Why do people like me so much?"

You come up with answers, but it's never a full answer.

It blows my mind that I can't fully answer questions about MYSELF.

Just think about it.