Midnight Rants & Da Di Da.

It’s not that I don’t. I do. I just won’t. It’s not that I can’t. I can. I just won’t. It’s not that I’m not. I’am. I just won’t. It’s not that I don’t have to. I do. I just won’t. It’s not that you’re not. You are. It’s just that sometimes I simply just don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I have all the right reasons to do, but won’t because not to do sometimes is the only right thing anyone could ever do. Do nothing. Say nothing. Feel nothing. Hear nothing. Know nothing. Oxymoron is what life really is. Hardly anything ever makes sense nowadays. We develop clever reasons for things just so we could make sense of it, but really they are just THINGS that will lead to other things that will lead to other useless things that you will later reason. It’s not that I don’t know. I do. I just don’t feel like doing anything about it. 

I would probably wake up in a few hours & question this blog post. Maybe I won’t. 

hell.

A Thought.

“Live as you would have wished to live when you are dying.” – Christian Furchtegott Gellert

If I were to die tomorrow,

I know,

for a fact,

that I have not lived,

the way I’ve always wanted to live.

However,

If I were to die tomorrow,

I hope,

that my last breath and thought

were spent

with and for

GOD.

.:.

If I were to die tomorrow.

San Diego, Let’s!

[[March 23, 2012]]

Over spring break, about a week or two ago, my boyfriend and I decided to go on what was supposed to be a double date with our friends to San Diego, but with their lack of punctuality and inconsistent promises, it ended up being just our date, which I actually didn’t mind at all. It was basically my last day of spring break, and I had realized then that I devoted 99.9% of my break being a homebody. Fortunately for me, Michael, my boyfriend, wanted to go out and explore and eat and eat….and eat…. So, after the two hour drive to San Diego, we celebrated with a grand feast at a Brazilian churrascaria, Rei Do Gado! I’ve heard about this place a few years back from a friend & she would always brag about how amazing and delicious the restaurant/buffet is- and luckily for me, the only place Michael wanted to gorge at was Rei Do Gado, a place he and his family once or often go to as well. I’ve never been to a churrascaria before, so going in there was a bit outlandish. Why, you ask? One, because I don’t speak Portuguese, and two, because  I didn’t know how the whole system works. Now I know that green = more meat, red = no meat. Easy, es muy fácil. Anyway, Michael basically took care of me with the help of his native tongue AND we ate. A lot. We were gluts, but it was so good. How can one honestly put a red on that never ending meat + rice + cinnamon pineapple + salad + and *drooling*…. Yes, I enjoyed the food so much, I’ve written a full paragraph about it. After the carnivorous lunch we had, Michael took me to Old Town San Diego, where we ate more [ice cream & tortillas] and walked around, enjoyed getting lost and confused, etc etc. Then, we went back to further downtown and made it to our last stop, Seaport Village. I went to San Diego twice before he took me on this previous trip, and I’ve never really explored San Diego the way I did on this day excursion, so I’m definitely beyond thankful for good ole’ San Diego!

-Some pictures I took with my phone, so the quality isn’t too great. But here it goes:

Discovering The Simplicity Of Life.

March 21st, 2012

Simplicity. What exactly does that word mean? Is it something one can truly define? – Or rather, something that is preferred to be acted upon or shown for people to know and understand that simplicity is really just….that simple. Inhaling the after-rain-air yesterday, the radiant sun beautifully displayed above, the cool breeze brushes gently on my skin, it was clear that Mother Nature was happily introducing all who noticed, Spring. But before spring, Winter has to take place.

I have been struggling for the past days and weeks on what simplicity should be like; “Enjoy the simplicity of life.” – And exactly what IS the simplicity of life? Is it a stroll down your favorite lane? Having a movie night with your family instead of parting ways to parties or with friends? Basking in all the magnificence God has created your eyes to see, nose to smell, mouth to taste? Is that what simplicity is? I have always stood by that saying since I can remember, “Enjoy the simplicity of life.” I think I have successfully done so, but why am I questioning what it is or how it should be? Lately, I have been ranting, making violent complaints, aggravated, and just dispirited with current situations. Of course when I say I’ve been making violent complaints and all that good stuff, it would only take place nowhere else but my head. This kinda bitter action should honestly stay within oneself and well, that’s about it. I’m a complainer only when no one else but myself could hear it and or through blogging [HAHA]. Trust me, the last thing people would want to hear is another person complain on and on about things of the world only you, yourself can understand, really. Do address your complaints to those who are actually involved in your fallout, otherwise keep it lively in the meanwhile – for the sake of others? Eh, I’m going way off topic, but that’s fine. It’s not like I’m running out of ink. Anyway, I’ve been bombarded by angry thoughts of the possibility I might be lying to myself. Do I even care for the simplicity of life, or have I conformed to be a materialist? I ask myself this because I had a random flashback of my Birthday last year on December. Note that I am head over heals for the month of December. Not necessarily because of my Birthday, but the mere reason of Christmas time! Honestly, who doesn’t love Christmas time? Even if one doesn’t celebrate it, the feel of it is more than just normal. Well, my Birthday is actually on Christmas day. It was only last year that I actually cared and took notice of my Birthday, as uncanny as that just sounded, it’s the truth. I never really cared for presents – sure, why not.. money, clothes, and my favorite cake that I can torture myself with won’t hurt, but I never really nagged my family and friends for presents. Sometimes I jokingly ask my parents and sister for something I’ve always wanted, but don’t have the exact sized wallet, [if you know what I mean..]. Though there is ONE thing that is an obligation for my Birthday: Food. I must go out to dinner with friends and family. Simple, right? I like having the people I enjoy being around together for what is now a tradition of mine. Aside from being a glutton, I don’t ask for anything else. My parents just insist on giving me something, which I of course highly appreciate. Last Birthday/Christmas was probably, hands down, the worst experience I have to go through as a Birthday girl. I acknowledge those who are less fortunate, and going through ineffable times in their lives, and I don’t want to sound spoiled, but this is my personal experience that helped me gain a piece of what actually matters in life.

Last December, on my Birthday/Christmas, I realized that the simplest of gifts mattered the most. On the 25th, I didn’t receive any tangible gifts from my family and friends. I, instead, fought with my parents for never acknowledging the existence of my Birthday when my uncle from Indonesia comes to town, and on top of all that, my mom left me for a Basketball game, stranding me at home alone. I couldn’t find the words to explain how truly I felt that whole day. Devastated? Angry? Frustrated? I came to an agreement with myself for a perfect word. I was hurt.

Before the 25th of December, I had mentioned to someone that the “Happy Birthday” song, as embarrassing as it is to be caroled to, everyone knows there’s nothing more cherry on top than a Happy Birthday song sang to you, on your Birthday. Unfortunately, the person didn’t take that into account on my day of birth, so….I didn’t get a Birthday song. I don’t know if he/she was listening to me or he/she forgot. And this is kind of sad and embarrassing at the same time, but I actually made a friend of mine sing it to me when the clock turned 12:OO midnight. I asked as a favor, but my friend was shy as a turtle and refused to sing out loud like the birds in the morning. That was just a minor, depressing part of my day.

I don’t like surprises, but that day, I wished for someone to surprise me with gifts or party favors, confetti streaming the air, a voluntary Happy Birthday song, something. The morning of my Birthday, I woke up to a grand breakfast meal prepared by my boyfriend’s mom. My boyfriend, Michael, and his mom said days before that breakfast will be made especially for me if I spent a night [which I did]. But the thing is, half of the people who attended didn’t know it was my Birthday, and during the prayer for food and gratitude for the day, I didn’t make it a big deal, but after everybody said their Amen, Michael added, “And Rachel’s Birthday..”. His mom, with a surprised face said, “Oh yeah! Your Birthday!”. Michael’s brother, sister-in-law and aunts, with their confused look, asked me if my Birthday was that day and was pleased to know that my Birthday was in fact the same day as Christmas. After that “Oh yeah!” moment, I suddenly felt that the breakfast feast wasn’t really for me. For a second I felt a slight of embarrassment that half of the table didn’t even know it was my Birthday, and Michael’s mom excluded me from the prayer. I know these are all just small matters, but this is where I’m trying to get at with this blog post; It’s the small things that leave a great impression. For example, cards! I miss and love receiving greeting/holiday cards. A handmade or 99 cents card bought at Wal Mart or Target, doesn’t really matter, I love receiving them. When I was in Indonesia, I sent two out back home [California]; One for my friend’s Birthday and the other was a random I-want-to-surprise-you-with-a-card for Michael. I think they loved it? I’m not quiet sure. But I love giving cards/notes, so I subconsciously expect to receive some in return by anyone really. I haven’t received a Birthday or any holiday/greeting card, without exaggeration, in years. It didn’t bother me of course until a turning table event took place. That event occurred in December. Similarly to my mentioning my love for the Happy Birthday song, I mentioned my fondness for receiving cards to several people I was inarguably close to, but still, no cards. This brought me to questioning my idea of what simplicity is or should be. I’ve come to the realization that yes, I have always lived by the saying, “enjoy the simplicity of life”, but it becomes something utterly different if I never really took the time to appreciate it. I never recognized what the simple things actually were. Because in retrospect, I noticed all my complaints were nothing but literally small, basic, day-to-day things. A song? That requires no money; Just a voice. A card/note? That only requires a pen and a piece of paper or 99 cents for the cheapest card in local stores. Recognition? Well that’s easy, who exactly wants to be forgotten? Not me. And I certainly hope no one wishes to be forgotten…. because well,  that is just abnormal.

I believe with recognition, everything just falls perfectly into place. I’m saying this generally to everyone, using myself as an example, but if the people I had mentioned to about my love for cards, notes, a song, et cetera et cetera, observed and listened to what I had told them, I honestly think they would’ve gone through the hassle of buying or making a card, or writing a note, or surprising me with a song. But they didn’t. And I’m going to assume they had forgotten, or they didn’t take what I said into consideration. By this, I don’t mean I should get what I want, not at all. I just don’t want the things I say and do or my whole existence to be forgotten by lack of attentiveness and appreciation. We all like to be recognized and appreciated. Yes, sometimes we forget, but we can’t forget every single time an opportunity presents itself. If you can give, give. If you can give, but didn’t or couldn’t, explain, because at least the person knew you were thinking about them or at least then they’d understand, even if its probably not a big deal on their end. If you forgot, redeem yourself that you won’t forget the next time. If you didn’t know, and its been mentioned a few times before, be more attentive and observe. If you didn’t or haven’t shown a sense of gratitude, do it now. If you haven’t said you loved the people you love, just say it. I’ve realized that it’s the tiny of fragment things in life that actually matters.
In my previous blog posts, I had written about my admiration towards the sincerity and simple-mindedness of children. My December can of worms that I haven’t even thought about for a while came crawling back a few weeks ago and finally, just yesterday, I witnessed the simplest form of what simplicity is.

Indeed, yesterday, just how I described in the beginning of this post, was a beautiful day. A beautiful, sunny day calls for frozen yogurt, of course. Michael and I went to a local frozen yogurt shop and as always, decided to enjoy our cup of good stuff inside the store, in our regular spot. Next to us was a little boy about the age of five, accompanied of course, by his mom. There were more people in there than usual, but a sudden silence occurred. Quiet enough just to hear our neighboring froyo goers speak. Just before the silence broke, the five year old, while ecstatically eating his cup of joy, looked at his mom, “I love you”, he said. His mom responded, “I love you too.”

For some strange reason, the little boy caught me off guard – as if he had done something awful. I couldn’t help but to smile like a madman until it was time to leave. All I knew, when the boy declared his love and clearly his appreciation to his mom, I knew what I had misconceived this whole time I thought I understood what the simple things were. Thanks to December and yesterday [March 20th, 2012], I know what makes me generally happy. I’ve always been a thankful person and I don’t think I can thank God enough for this life I have. But every now and then, we must learn to not only appreciate, but also act upon it. I’m glad I’m slowly but surely recognizing the minute details that matters in life. Because only through recognition will you find the importance of simplicity.

Nostalgia.

“Lovesong” by The Cure, Covered by Adele.

There is always that one particular song that somehow always manages to bring one back to the days that once were; those days that weren’t perfect, but just enough to convince a child that it was then. Growing up in a home based on giving and receiving lots of love, I had to personally overcome drastic changes from these past months & years. It is not easy to see something I have once inspired for years, quickly deteriorates in a matter of days. I thought the divorce of my parents would just be done and over with, but unfortunately for me and my sister, we are still stuck in between all the unnecessary simultaneous problems that seem to occur consecutively. Things of the past- And that is what I’m still trying to decipher. If anyone wants to bring anything from the past to the present, it honestly is not worth it if all it does is spoil the now. If all the things from the past only contribute to [more] negativity to the present time, let it go. I’ve noticed that people [us] have the tendency of picking and choosing a memory from the past that has absolutely no benefits in the present- unless you want to make a great love song out of it like Adele Adkins and make millions of dollars from it then please, enlighten us all. Otherwise just stop and pick another happier memory. And that, ladies and gentlemen, that is what I have done tonight. I bumped into a rendition of Lovesong covered by Adele and the memories of my “just enough” days just twirling back its way to my present. It reminded me of a particular photograph of me and my family on a lake somewhere in Seattle, Washington. It has always been my favorite picture of us four, and this song, this song just brings me straight back to that moment that I will forever cherish in my heart and soul.

“Nostalgia – it’s delicate, but potent. Teddy told me that in Greek, “nostalgia” literally means “the pain from an old wound.” It’s a twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn’t a spaceship, it’s a time machine. It goes backwards, and forwards… it takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It’s not called the wheel, it’s called the carousel. It let’s us travel the way a child travels – around and around, and back home again, to a place where we know are loved.”- Don Draper, Mad Men

Desperation.

 

I need a happy face. The face that would wait for me to come home every night when I was in Indonesia just to ask me how my day was. I need a happy face. I need that back. How do I get it back? I need the happy face that helped me just before the time I thought I was about to lose myself. Help me, happy face. 

Don’t Know What Or How To Feel? No, But This Music Does.

I don’t know what it is, but this song/melody/piece seem to intrigue my unknown, fluctuating feelings at the moment. It’s something that no one, even myself could ever understand. It’s not that I’m feeling thoughtless or restless, or any of that. Maybe i’m just overwhelmed – but the question is, by what? At this exact moment, I don’t know. And I probably won’t figure it out until [hopefully] in the near future….or maybe ever? The uncertainty ensues.. However, with all the uncertainties between the certainly certain certainties, lie this music that somehow “understands” me. Odd. Very odd. I may have a serious case of Nostalgia +.

 

“If you’re going through hell, keep going.” – Winston Churchill

Things need to slow down.

“Did you say it? I love you, I don’t ever want to live without you, you changed my life. Did you say it? Make a plan. Set a goal. Work toward it. But every now and then, look around. Drink it in. ‘Cause this is it; It may all be gone tomorrow .” – Greys Anatomy

The In Between.

**This blog post was inspired by my boyfriend’s newborn nephew, Daniel, and my visit to Indonesia to see and be with my Opa [Grandfather] who was ill then, and recently passed away on December 27th, 2011. I wrote this on October 2, 2011 in Jakarta, Indonesia.

October 2, 2011

11:45 AM

“I know I was born and I know that I’ll die…The in between is mine.”- Eddie Vedder

One of life’s magnifying, most breathtaking moment is when a child is born; when a fetus becomes a human being; breathing, crying, moving, living. But every beginning always has an ending. And one of life’s most terrifying and painful moments is death. When that born child grows old, lived the in between, to their last, final breath, how can we possibly comprehend something as inexplicable as the tragic of one’s death? We all know we will one day die. We don’t know when, we won’t know how, and we don’t know why, but somewhere along our limited lives, we will pass away….and in that given time, in that given second, in that given moment, a beautiful, precious, perfect baby is born.

As incredibly happy or saddening these life changing moments are, none can possibly compare to the moments that took place amid the two points of one’s life. For me, what makes a “great death” is one who lived a great life. I am not one to judge who deserves to be great or not, however I have been delightedly honored to have been blessed with such incredible people in MY life. Great people. I am only 19 years old, but I have seen enough to understand how the world works, how people can be, and the system of life. I have seen passion, patience, understanding, pressure, faith, wasted time, the trust worthy, the faithful, the faithless, happiness, sorrow, lovers, love, a new born child, someone’s death.  We are all given a moment in between to live. Every second is a blessing for the next is not guaranteed. How we choose to live our lives is probably THEE most important decision anyone ever has to make. The “in between” shapes us as a person. Our morals and principle are not constructed in the beginning, but there, in the middle. We do not build our character at the end, but there, in between. We die as the people we are recognized to be to others the time between our first and last breath. There are approximately 490,000 babies born every day worldwide and about 200-250,000 people die each day. The 250,000 people who die each day are the past who will lead the 490,000 new born babies to the future. Just like a domino effect, each individual affects one another; some noticeably, some in a subtle way. I don’t know if I have affected a person’s life, but if I did, I sure hope it was for the good. People come and go, and the ones that have affected my life in some way stay with me forever- even if death has taken over them. And that, to me, is my definition of a “great person”. It doesn’t matter if they have passed away. If they have left a valuable impression in your heart and mind, they are those who have lived. This reminds me of a quote by Mark Twain, “Let us live so that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry.” The joy a newborn baby gives is as compelling and influential as the silence of a person’s death. Life truly is a beautiful tragedy. And as influential as the beginning and the end are, nothing is as powerful as the life lived in the thick of these two points of one’s life. We were never given a choice to be born, and we were never given the power to have eternal life on earth, but the one decision we do have can create a new horizon for people to see and remember, and that is the decision of how we should live our lives till our death. You may not remember the beginning, and you may not know your ending, but in the midst of those two points lie what is rightfully yours- the in between.

__________________________________________________

Opa, you have lived your in between, and you sure have inspired many people in your life. I know that because many people wanted to speak and share to those who came to your memorial service in Indonesia of how loving of a person you were to them and others. You are my inspiration to live my life with care and love no matter the circumstances.  My favorite quote is the one I had mentioned above by Mark Twain, and I’am more than honored to finally and personally know a man who has lived up to that quote. You were and still are such an influential man and I hope you left this world knowing that you will forever be loved by the many people you have touched. Sleep well, Opa. Until we all meet again.  I love you.<3

 

‘Tis The Season To Try To Be Jolly.

‘Tis the season to be jolly….right? Sure. I’m not usually a cynic for the holidays, especially Christmas time, but for these past  5 years, I’ve been….not so jolly. Going back to 2007, my filthy rich uncle from Indonesia has become the center of the winter holidays. I want to make it clear that this particular blog is not about me hating and blaming all holiday disaster on him, but he is the reason of the cause. And I’m going to repeat that last phrase, he is the reason of the cause, not the cause. The reason. I guess what makes this whole thing more bitter to me is the fact that my Birthday is actually ON Christmas day.   The first two years of this new “Christmas/New Year tradition” was actually fun and interesting, but overtime, it has become a drag for me. Why, you ask, because I don’t remember when was the last time my family actually asked me what I wanted to do for my Birthday. At the end of the year, I ask the same question to my parents when my uncle and his family visit, “What are we going to do for Christmas?”, I take the blame for not speaking my mind, but a part of me still wish that when that question is being asked, they would considerately ask me, “What do YOU want to do, since it is also your Birthday?”. Every time my uncle comes, everyone becomes a robot. Whatever he asks, we will answer; whatever he tells us to do, we will do. He is not an evil guy whose intention is to rule and be the “boss”, but my family and friends make it seem like everything he wants to do, WE have to do as well. Though I will admit that it’s hard to pass up on all the things he offers us, but it doesn’t mean you forget all the other things that were once important.

Each and every year, things get tougher. My parents separated in 2009, and their divorced was finalized I believe in 2010. But their marriage begin crumbling into pieces in 2008. So, that would mean I’ve only spent one normal Christmas/New Year holiday with my mom and dad still married and happy ever since my uncle started the tradition. The rest of the years, they have been more than a challenge for my sister and I. There are so many things I would like to mention, but too much for a blog. I will however go back to the point of what this whole thing is supposed to be about; “What do I want to do for my Birthday?” Christmas of 2010, I remember my dad telling me that they will be spending Christmas [and my Birthday] watching Lakers [as we always have been doing for the past years since my uncle came] and  for the first time ever, I declined the offer. I, instead went to church and have one of my very good/close friend pick me up and spend Christmas time with him and his family. But before I begin the whole day, all I remember of that day was waking up in my parents room, alone. The only thing that greeted me was the silence. No “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”, no “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”, no anything. All that stood out of that day was me waking up, and the tears I have kept all those years  ran down my cheeks in an instant. This lasted for half an hour. I was alone, and as I was lying there in bed, all I wished for was to hear the voices that used to sing me the Birthday song when it hits midnight, or in the morning when I woke up. My dad, mom, and sister were not there, and for the very first time since the separation of my parents, I knew it was never going to be the same again.

This year is different, yet similar. I have a boyfriend. Our 1 year was actually yesterday on the 22nd. I was really excited yesterday. I wanted to do something simple with him- so, we saw Christmas lights in Rancho Cucamonga, ate In-N-Out [a place he wanted to avoid,  but the only thing that I was craving for that night], and we watched The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. I loved what we did- except the part where we argued every other minute for something as little as a phone call he had made during our Christmas lights walk. I was annoyed that he had to make a call and tell our mutual friend that he and his girlfriend [my close friend] should see the lights, etc etc. I don’t know why I blew up, because I would be the last person to care about these things, but I did- so I apologized for my irrationality. To sum up the night: We argued about the phone call, we got lost a few times [I didn't mind, but he did], he got annoyed at the situation, I got annoyed at him for being so annoyed, he got annoyed at me for being annoyed at him for being annoyed at the situation, we made up, we had fun, he took me home, it was almost 3:00 AM, I was tired, but didn’t want to get out the car [I wanted to take a nap in there for a while], he didn’t want to see me sleep because he thought I would be groggy when he wakes me up, we argued a bit, and it ended with a kiss and a bye. He left, and I decided to walk around at night/morning. I went to the basketball court and I just lay there. I listened to the owl “whooing”, I felt the breeze, the crackling leaves, the clear night sky.. it was a beautiful night. As I lay there in silence, I begin to cry. I cried, again. It’s almost a “why the hell am I always crying at the end of the year?” I barely cry. As a matter of fact, I never cry. But anyway, I cried. I thought about the night and the Christmas day last year, and I finally went on home after. This afternoon, I asked my dad *hoping for a different answer*, “Hey dad, what are we going to do for Christmas?” and he said with confidence, “We’re going to watch the Lakers play.” I was expecting the answer, so I wasn’t surprised or disappointed because this time I’ll be spending Christmas Eve with my boyfriend and his family. After he answered me, I explained to him what I will be doing for Christmas Eve and how I’ll no longer go to San Diego with my boyfriend’s family on Christmas day [but I will be there in the morning because his mom has promised me a King's Breakfast for my Birthday], and instead hang out with the family- his respond? Negative. He, instead, in an angry tone, asked me, “Why do you have to be there for Christmas morning?  I don’t want to go back and forth from LA for you.”  He, he didn’t want to do that for me. He wanted the Christmas day, which is also the day of his daughter’s birth to be easy for him, to be enjoyable, to be fun, and that is to do whatever my uncle is doing. And my sister? She’s spending it watching Lakers, too. My mom? Haven’t asked, but I’m going to take a wild guess that she will be working. With my dad’s inconsiderate response, I commented with frustration, “Nobody ever asks me what I wanted to do for my Birthday anymore.”  He didn’t say anything.

Before writing this long essay-like blog, I realized why I didn’t want to get out of the car, and when I did, I walked around alone. I realized why the little things bothered me yesterday, and I realized why I called my 1 year with my boyfriend a “Whatever I Want To Do Day”- which was funny and ultimately selfish at the time. I guess I unconsciously took our 1 year as another holiday. A holiday in December  that my uncle has nothing to do with. A “holiday” in which I could do all the things that I’ve been wanting to do for the past years, but couldn’t. I made my boyfriend and my 1 year into a “holiday” that was never meant to be one. And as tired as I was, I’ve also realized that I didn’t want to get out of the car because I knew as soon as I get out of that car and into my home, the only “holiday” in December that I actually enjoy would officially be over. I was being lame. I don’t know how else to put it. 

I don’t want to watch the Lakers play again on my Birthday, but if that meant getting to spend time with my family, I’ll take it. I just hope that someday soon someone will ask me what I would like to do for my Birthday. In the mean while, somebody please remind me how this time of year is supposed to feel. 

‘Tis the season to be jolly.

Maybe things should slow down a bit.

Butterflies Or Number Two?

December 13th, 2011
1:40pm Tuesday (KST) – Time in Seoul, South Korea

It’s your wedding day. Minutes before you’re about step in that church hall, you’ve realized you are about to trade vows with not just anybody, but your partner who you will spend the rest of your forever with. You are in love, and the thought simply excites you. You are anxious. Then, in an instant, strikes another realization. You suddenly need to go number two. You, out of no where, need to go poop. No, this is not a tragic, couple story where “I need to go number two” realization destroyed a special day or…. what was supposed to be a special day, but I guess I could say it radiates around this “touchy subject”. This is not a thought that randomly crossed my mind for I’ve actually thought about it more than once before, and Im curious if Im the only one who feels this immense hatred towards this….out of nowhere, felonious feeling that appears in time where excitement + anxiety take place. I don’t know about you, but every single time an exciting event is about to happen, like for me right now, I’m at the international airport in Seoul, Korea for transit, heading back to California after 4 months, and I’am beyond ecstatic to see Mister Novio [boyfriend named Michael]- I’m here for a whopping 8 hours, and thoughts sprinting in and out of my mind are likely to happen, especially when i’m alone with no one to talk to but myself. Going off topic**, now back to the point i’m trying to make and still trying to understand. I’m excited. I have butterflies in my stomach and out of freaking no where, I need to go number two. I haven’t even eaten anything yet! How is this even possible? I don’t know if im more shocked at the fact that I really needed to go to the restroom….[[and badly]] at the time, or how i’m still surprised that such lame feeling would barge in just like that; when im all….energized, delighted, and you know……..high spirited, because THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS TO ME. Every time im just minutes away from an exciting moment, I suddenly need to seriously use the restroom. And I hate the part where you can’t go, because the event is about to start, and if you go, it’ll ruin the moment and cause unwanted speculations of why this happened, why that happened, and you’re just to damn embarrass to say that you needed to go number two. Or to put it more blunty, you needed to poop. Or “poo” cuz that actually sounds cute, but thats aside my point. I don’t understand why having “butterflies in my stomach” also means “Im anxious. I really need to poop.” Aren’t butterflies supposed to be pretty or something? Tell me. Tell me why? This happened to me during my highschool graduation, happened to me going to Indonesia, happened to me minutes before a job interview, it.just.always.happens. But please also tell me that I’m not the only one to have to go through this. Cuz that would be just dead on lame on my end. I need to know that minutes before I walk down the isle to my forever one day, I won’t be the only woman who would go into the immediate shock of “man, I really need to number two.” Somebody make my day and tell me you’ve gone through this- maybe not often or in a dramatic sense, but enlighten me with a “Yes, Rachel, I know exactly what you mean.” Because this, this is something I will never come close to understanding.

If no one agrees, then……………………………………I take everything back. I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve never gone through that……. What?? Pshttttttt……you know, whatever….Life is cool. Treats me fairly. You know….just doing my thang. All good in the neighborhood of love..its cool.. Turtles are chill….they can eat lettuce and stuff..