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The Fourth Roommate

Every year that I was in college has resulted me living with a roommate or two. The first year I had two roommates who ended up being pretty cool. I was a nervous freshman who didn’t have a clue about life as an adult, and the roommates that had shared our little closet of a space on Cal Poly Pomona’s campus helped me navigate the very awkward transition from high school into all things college.

Then there was the second year. I had three other roommates who were nice, however, dishes kept piling up and were constantly being stacked like Jenga pieces in the sink. Just one wrong look at the filthy pile of dishes would send the tower of grime tumbling down. Ignoring that, and the time one of my roommates ate raw uncooked spaghetti nervously in the bathroom, they were all incredibly good people who were there for me when times grew difficult. Read the rest of this page »

Learn By Doing: Graduating Into “The Real World”

My time spent at Cal Poly Pomona had taught me a lot of things. Among the incredibly valuable information that I have gathered, I have learned how to bs presentations during my brief stint as an architecture student, I learned how to write a fairly decent 20-page-paper in one night, and I learned everything else just by doing it on my own. In fact the motto of the University I had graduated from a couple of years ago, was to learn by doing.

I spent the majority of my four years as an undergrad working part time jobs, and interesting internships. The most interesting to date being the time I worked for a hypnotist. However, each position I have held over the years, each project I have completed, every piece of literature I have written has all contributed to what I know today. Read the rest of this page »

Why Your Friends And Family Are Just An Extension Of Yourself

“I don’t care about whose DNA has recombined with whose. When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching–they are your family.” ― Jim Butcher, Proven Guilty

Photo by photon_de via Flickr

Photo by photon_de via Flickr

I remember watching this one wildly unpopular movie with Reese Witherspoon and Vince Vaughn called, Four Christmases, involving a couple who end up having to visit all four of their divorced parents for the holidays. In the movie, Witherspoon and Vaughn’s characters are a couple who had been dating for three years, seemingly without any problems, who realize that they didn’t know each other as well as they thought. *Spoil Alert* Somehow it took finally meeting each other’s friends and family to really understand and get to know one another.

Bringing home new friends and significant others to meet family and old friends is a huge part of any relationship. You can learn a lot about a person by hanging out with them, but there is always some other piece of that person that gets revealed when you meet the most important people in their life. Read the rest of this page »

Ancient Ruins And Leaving Your Mark In The World

Before I moved out of my first house on the edge of my small hometown I tried carving my initials inside my closet. My younger self wanted to leave my mark on the place where I grew up in so that the next kid who would call my room their own would know a little about the girl who lived there previously. I suppose I didn’t do it deep enough because, when I went back to grab the last of my things in my room and to check and see if was still there, the painters had painted over it and there were no signs of my signature.

I did, however, made a very crude sketch of that house in pencil before leaving and hung it up on my wall in our new home. I ended up taking a piece of that place with me rather than defacing it for the next person, and, through the image that I had created, I could look at my old house any day if I wanted to.

Me at the Roman Colosseum

Me at the Roman Colosseum

I learned this lesson at a young age, but I didn’t realize that there are some people who never seem to figure out how to capture memories. I read, recently, of two California tourists aged 21 and 25, who thought it would be cool to carve their names into the ancient Italian walls of Rome’s Colosseum, and got caught while taking a selfie with their damaging graffiti.

Looking back on my own brush with name carving, I could see how one would want to do this, however, I could never imagine me altering a piece of living ancient history at any age.

Read the rest of this page »

Math and the Patriarchy

Photo by Wanda Dechant via Flickr

Photo by Wanda Dechant via Flickr

The subject came about when she had uttered the words, “boys are just better at math.” My eyes metaphorically rolled so far back into my head that they could have fallen back into my throat.

I tried to reason with her in the most polite way possible. “I think a lot of it has to do with the different ways in we teach boys and girls, how society treats boys and girls differently, and how this notion of ‘boys are just better at math, and girls are just better at literature and language,’ has been subtly indoctrinated into the minds of the masses throughout all of time and has affected the way that girls see themselves in the classroom.”  Read the rest of this page »

The Brunch And The Broken Bet With Jesus

Photo by Linda via Flickr

Photo by Linda via Flickr

The cool breeze that subtly rustled through the tall palm trees on that Sunday morning greeted us as we made our way to the small restaurant. We had gotten up at a decent time to eat brunch and then spend the rest day together, but there was still a line waiting outside of the door with potential patrons holding white lettering printed on bright orange mugs filled with coffee.

Although the weather outside seemed a little gloomy, everyone seemed to be in an incredibly good mood. We put our names down on the waiting list and passed the next twenty minutes of time by taking a short stroll around the nearby shopping center.

We were seated somewhere in the middle of the breakfast/brunch establishment and our waitress immediately came over to ask us about our drink order.

“Would you like any coffee?” Read the rest of this page »

The Intent for Lent

Photo by John via Flickr

Photo by John via Flickr

I let the steaming hot java pour into my Beatles thermos, poured a little hazelnut creamer in to the black liquid, and capped it off with the thermos’ matching black top.

“You sure do drink a lot of coffee,” my sister said to me while watching me prepare my beverage in the kitchen from the living room.

I looked at her, “I maybe have a cup or two a day. No big deal.”

“I don’t think that’s a good thing,” my sister looked almost disgusted at my actions. “Everyone is so addicted to that stuff to where they have to have it everyday. You know it’s bad for you if you’re having headaches and getting cranky if you don’t have that daily dose of coffee.”

“Well, I’m not addicted to coffee. I can stop at any time.”

“Sure.” Read the rest of this page »

Coffee Shop Blogging

Cappuccino at Gnome Surry Hills by Sacha Fernandez, via Flickr

Photo by Sacha Fernandez, via Flickr

She felt the sharp sting of the hot handcrafted espresso beverage as it hit the tip of her tongue. The steamed soymilk foam did nothing to stop the boiling heat that had seeped like lava from the small to-go cup. She was sitting in the Barnes & Noble Starbucks café surrounded by dozens of magazine readers and students studying for tests, and she could do nothing but swallow the scalding drink as it engulfed her throat in flames while it traveled below, and continue typing on her brightly colored purple laptop.

Somewhere in between the stacks of popular dystopian settings of young adult novels lies the writer addicted to blogging for no one in particular. Occasionally, she looks for the thousand different words that are hidden within the pixels of Internet jpegs, and writes them down in posts to publish online. Read the rest of this page »

The Writer and the Reader

I had seen a group of Jane Austen novels in the Kings County Library’s Hanford Branch before, but didn’t check out any of the books until I had heard one of my English teachers mentioning the writer. I was in Junior High school, and we had just finished reading Charles Dickens’ classic, A Tale of Two Cities, so I was on a classic novel-reading high.

I picked up Jane Austen’s Emma, read through its nearly 400 pages, and decided I detested the book’s main character. To me, the character, Emma, was an annoying elitist wealthy woman trapped inside the pages of a novel where nothing truly noteworthy occurred. Granted, I also may have been biased by the action-packed adventure novels that I was previously engrossed in, I still expected more from an internationally acclaimed piece from the literary cannon. Years later, however, when I would sign up for another English course for fun while I was obtaining a Master’s degree in Communications, I would read the book again and enjoy it. Read the rest of this page »

A Philosophy of Kindness

This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness. —Dalai Lama

Photo by Jennifer via Flickr

Photo by Jennifer via Flickr

The sleek blue-grayish Scion TC swiftly moved like a river rushing across the earth. And while doing so, my mind wandered off to how this situation came to be. I was driving my dad’s car back to Bakersfield when I realized how incredibly fortunate I was to borrow a car when I needed a ride, and how trusting my dad was of me to take his while my car was in the shop.

After my car, Susan took a tumble and crashed into a curb, I thought my days of easily getting around Southern California were over. Little did I know an outpouring of love and kindness would help me arrive to where I needed to go.  Read the rest of this page »

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