4.23.2013

Where did the time go?

I attended Ate's baby shower this past weekend. Ate is my best friend's older sister, who is essentially my older sister hence the Filipino term of respect towards an older sister "Ate". Her name is Rosemarie :) Anyhow, she is having her first child and is 7 months along, so of course we are all uber excited to celebrate her new title in the making as Mommy.

The party was the normal type of filipino gathering. There were loads of food trays scattered and spread along the counter with delectable filipino dishes ranging from lumpia, pancit, palabot, kare kare, arescalgo, and the like. The usual gang was present, Aunty Perla and Uncle Rodel and the normal attendants from the local filipino community. Then some of their family from down the hill were present, as well as those from Las Vegas. Soon after, some of the Barstow locals began to funnel in and that's when it hit me...

I looked around and I couldn't help but notice where I was at in life. Here I was, sitting next to Chris, a married 27 year old graduate student back in my hometown celebrating the new life of an old friend's unborn child, with all of our friends that I grew up with. Except, we weren't all teenagers dressed in baggy jeans and t-shirts with ridiculous hair styles and awkwardly drawn in eyebrows and so forth.

No no, we were of that grown folk picture... sitting with our spouses, talking about our careers and jobs, grueling about child birth and labor, wiping runny noses and rocking infant children, shushing loud and un-tempered tantrum'd toddlers, verbally disciplining and so forth. The image was stunning...

Where did the time go?

I sat there basking in everyone's current situation. An old friend of mine's brother was there with his wife and three kids and they were quite the sight. They were keeping control of their toddler and ensuring the other two of theirs had enough food to eat, all the while talking about their current job situations. Another old friend was cooing her baby from a crying fit she was having being around a slew of unfamiliar faces. Then there was another couple seated quietly as they spoke about the time intervals of their newborn son's feeding schedule. Here I was talking about my schooling and being newly married and working out the kinks. My best friend spoke about interviewing for a new job that offered her a trip to Shanghai. My other best friend talking about her husband making the next rank in the army as an E7. Another friend wobbled around for her plate of food while 8 months pregnant. Just so cute and full of life!

It appeared to me that this is really what life was about. It seemed like only yesterday we were all in high school together, eating lunch at the benches, sharing food with each other, planning up Friday night activities after the football game and so forth. Somehow, it was refreshing to see that we all grew past that phase in life... and together as a whole. There are friends that don't hang with us anymore, but even that's okay because they have their own lives. I was just happy to see that after 10 years, we had all come to place in our lives where we could still get together, enjoy a meal, celebrate milestones, and continue friendships.

I loved that I could leave Chris with all the guys of the group and know that was genuinely in good company. It's so difficult these days to keep good people around because it always seems like good people are hard to find. But when I find them, I try to hold on to them - God willing they hold on to us as well, it always has to be mutual for me.

Thinking about this really just makes me feel like, while many times I feel like I'm still reaching a goal, I think I've stumbled across the accomplishment of one... having a solid foundation and support group. I'm so thankful for those around me that continue to be a part of my life - they continue to grow with me and that is something that I can't take for granted. I am thankful for my people who have enhanced my life and made me a better person, and I am thankful that we all go up together. It's more than I could have imagined for myself but I'm glad that I have it.

Boy am I tired. I think it's time for a nap before I make dinner for the hubby.

Tofa soifua,
Mrs. New Muli




4.19.2013

Let me first just say that God is good...

I was instantly reminded of this blog I wrote years ago on Facebook... I posted it on this blog site on March 1st and decided to take a part of it to reiterate my thoughts revolving around the sudden death of a church member last night... it just resonates with me every time...

People die daily, I know, but today I realized something. I've lost Gramma Superwoman, I've lost aunts and uncles, cousins... losing someone of blood relation to you is definitely heartbreaking... I wouldn't want to experience losing any family member dear and true to my heart, because I've felt the pain before, and it's not pleasant... 

 But just think... just imagine... to lose the love of your life, to lose the person you are bound to entirely by some element of the universe unrecognizable by the naked eye just completely leaves me at a loss for words. I think about it all the time... how can you care for someone so much? Someone that has no relation to you - a complete stranger in this universe until you connect with them, deeply, connect to their soul, to their inner self, to their being, their existence... and then one day, they just aren't there anymore... that pain felt, that anguish and inner struggle to move on or to stay faithful and true to the love of your life, I would never wish that pain on anyone. What type of pain is that? To have a void that will leave you completely empty of your soulmate's touch, their breath, their hug, their voice...

 Last night our deacon passed away at the very tender age of 47. Sudden cardiac arrest? I have no idea, it's still being investigated. That's besides the point I want to make. His wife has now become a widow, and I am aching so badly on her behalf. I knew when I first wrote the post above that there was a gut wrenching pain that a person must feel when they lose their spouse. Now that I in fact AM a spouse, I shutter internally at a pain so deep that that will eventually happen to me.

I have yet to lose anyone within my inner circle. However, as I have aged, the perimeter of near and dear people that I care for keeps closing in on me. I'm losing people that are closer in proximity to my heart. This man that passed away goes to my church. He leads our services, I take direction from him on our praise team. That's close enough to make an impact upon hearing the news. Chris called me and started with... "let me first just say, that God is good" that's our preamble to bad news. When he said that, I knew bad news was coming, I just didn't think it was going to be about someone passing away. We put the preamble in place to keep from complaining. To keep from distrusting. To keep from trying to take the situation in our hands because we think we can make it better. It has helped me a lot, US even. There is always comfort in God. ALWAYS. Always, always. That's how it's been for me for years and it's really the only thing that works for me. Only. Only, only.

All I could really think about in learning about his situation is his wife. Her feelings. I am devastated for her because I think about how much I love and enjoy my husband being around in just the three months of being married. She's been married for roughly 20+ years to this man and I know the wound is deep. At least it's deep for me because I empathize with her... well, sympathize... well, it's empathize too. While I would say that I can't (don't) imagine how it feels, it's not something I refuse to imagine. I know that one day he will pass - and when he does, I don't want to be upset with God... so I allow myself to think about it. I think about how my heart will ache. I think of how I'll look when I cry. I think of my knees buckling from the pain in my gut upon learning sudden news that he passed while I was not with him. All the while, I think of this, I tell myself to remain strong. Call on God. I don't know why this exercise helps me, I do tear up just writing about this, but it's my belief that I can condition myself to be strong through pain if I continue to accept that idea that he won't be here forever. That also makes me cherish him more, and the little things in our marriage... like him having the bed already made in the morning when I get out from using the restroom... or being surprised at the full tank of gas in my car because he filled it up the day before without me asking... or a random hour trip to meet me after my class in Azusa to drop off keys that I misplaced, and my laptop that needed to be updated at work. Incidents like these make me want to love more... even though I feel like I love strongly already.

I wish I had my laptop to blog last night because I had more emotions to blog from. I miss being able to put my emotions on paper. Anyhow, the workday continues.

:)

Mrs. NewMuli

4.17.2013

Blast.

I've been meaning to tweet but this paper had me all tied up.

Okay, it really didn't, but I would have felt bad blogging while I could have been writing my paper.

1. I absolutely love spending time with my husband. There is no greater feeling than the one I get when he comes home from work or upon seeing him for the first time after hours. Call it the honeymoon phase, I don't really know (or care) what it is, but I can't deny how much I love it. Now, I normally don't like the mushy gushy, because let's face it, I wasn't raised around women that did that (I have not ONCE heard my mom tell my dad how handsome he is, despite the many women who have openly expressed that to me) but I thoroughly enjoy our time together. Our humor is the same and that makes for a great time. He is intellectual stimulating, and always keeps me on my toes. I love being married, I love having a lifetime partner. I love waking up to him. I don't love that I can't sleep while he's snoring, but I enjoy having him around me anyway. It's a feeling of completeness, a feeling of wholeness that I can't really describe. He truly is my other half, and when he's not around, I'm fine mentally, but my soul thirsts. I've been raised to be an independent woman, but even independent women have souls that yearn for completeness. I enjoy seeing complete marriages like this. It's uplifting, and it's entirely OF God. Seeing it around me, even though it is rare, allows me to have greater hope in humanity. Not everyone is entirely worked up on physical attraction and false advertised hooplas of "I'm this and that". I enjoy the friendship I have with him because after 6 years of relationships, I realized that that's all I've ever really wanted. Friendship. I want to be able to keep you around me and not be annoyed. I want to be able to talk for hours on end only to realize that we are not going to get much rest before tomorrow's day of work begins. I want to make you a better person while you make me a better person. I want go on road trips and be reminded that I need to put my seatbelt on. I want to pray together. I want to work towards a common goal together. I want to laugh at myself (and you) when we fail at reaching our goal because we are so addicted to food. I want to make fun of you without you feeling hurt. I want my cheeks to hurt from laughing so much. I just want to hang out with you and enjoy silence, or trash talk about sports, even though I'm not good at it.

In essence, I absolutely love spending time with my husband because hanging out with him truly feels like I'm hanging out myself in another body. You know how awesome that feels when you, in turn, truly love yourself as a person? That's not an egotistical statement of conceit either. So many people are uncomfortable being alone and it's because they truly don't love who they are as a person. They're uncomfortable in their own skin, and that leads them to look for relationships that fill that void. It's a common and deathly mistake. I learned this a while ago, and it's resonated within me for so long that I was able to make a good decision in my life in marrying a man who is very similar to me. Don't get it twisted, we are NOT identical, but so many of our core values and strengths are alike that I just enjoy being around him because he exudes positivity, strength, humor, and confidence. It's a joy being around him, I hope that it's the same joy I give to others when I am around them. It's important to always keep the lamp lit, especially in a world with so much darkness.



Well, this is over. I had to share this because yesterday I had a wonderful dinner with the Hubster and of course, I wanted to write it down before it vanished from my mind as quickly as everything I learn does lol.

Adieu,
Mrs. NewMuli.

4.11.2013

100th blog post - Yay ME!

Or not... haha.

A few things I wanted to speak on today...

1. DSM-V - So there's a new psychology bible coming out, aka the DSM-V, aka Diagnostics Statistical Manual version Five. I was reading an article earlier today on The Daily Beast (love that website) that spoke about the new disorders that will be gracing the pages of the new DSM. SIDE RANT START - I'm bitter that I spent just about $90 bucks on the DSM-IV back in September 2013 only to find out that it had about 9 months left until the end of its life because the DSM-V was coming out in May of 2013. UGH. - SIDE RANT OVER. Anyhow, I found it disgustingly odd that Skin-Picking was going to be listed as a new disorder, along with Hypersexual Disorder (wanting too much sex), Internet Disorder (which could diagnose every human being born after the year 1980), and other weird ones.

The article spoke at a small length about potentially overdiagnosing individuals and it just seems like that's really is what's happening. I read a comment on the article by a fellow reader that mentioned these new random and peculiar disorders being related to health insurance and medical attention. That is actually a very plausible lead to these weird disorders being listed. I did just learn that in the initial assessment for every client the first two bits of information needed is: 1) What the medical attention needed for; 2) What the health insurance covers. In essence it boils down to two things - what's wrong, and how are you paying? I literally had to chuck out every altrusitc bone in my body when my professor told me that we are constantly trying to digure out how we are getting paid in this field. At the end of the day, I need to feed my family, right? I need to feed myself too! Sheesh. Anyway, health insurance policies normally don't cover medical bills for mental health therapy if there is no diagnosis. If you aren't diagnosed, you get no help because your insurance will not take care of the bill, and if you really need the therapy, you are out on your own with whatever three digit sum the therapist asks for... and who can afford three-digit-priced therapy THESE days? Lawd. :(

2. Last night my husband and I were in discussion about an article I read online about the glamorized life everyone lives these days with IG pictures, FB posts, and the like. It was very interesting to think about it in that way. The article talked about these fluffy and fluttery status updates about how wonderful people's lives were and how they are all doing so fabulously well via tweets and IG photos, and that as a result... some onlookers are actually loathing in their pitiful boring lives. ERRR. Stop right there, a few points I think I should make...

a. Not everyone posts about how amazing their lives are. Especially on my news feed. I see a lot of political rants and DMV complaints as well as other heartbreaking breakup status updates. Not everyone's life is broadcasted positively.

b. Some IG posts are overly whimsical and wisdom-atic and quite frankly annoying.

c. Tweets couldn't possibly illustrate fabulosity in less than 140 characters. Clearly, more characters are needed for that.

"When's the last time you got your oil changed without scrolling on your IG feed?" - This reminded me of the last time I went and had my oil changed and how I was so glued to my phone. Steven Wilkos could keep my attention on the TV for more than a few minutes I was so glued! I thought to myself, this is allll bad dude. No good at all, I need to do more with myself. WAAAAAY more.

This is when I told Chris that I needed to blog more. Read more and blog. It's the only way I'll truly know what is going on in the world, keep my grammar up to par, and keep from self-loathing apparently.

3. I am getting old. I cannot hold water in my gut for anything, I am peeing so often that it's beginning to freak me out. Goodness!

4. I cannot wait to have a carneasada burrito today with Pai. It will be awesome! :)

5. Thank God, my therapist just emailed me and is still looking to see me at 4:30, THANK YOU, JESUS! I needed her today! 3rd session down, 37 more to go for my graduate requirement. WOOT!

6. Today marks one week of having my child Lexi aka my new car! Happy 1 week birthday, Lex! Me and Lex before heading to church this past Sunday. :)



4.10.2013

National Siblings Day

Honestly, what can I say? I was born with three monkeys as brothers, and was blessed with another one and a sister-princess through my husband. Having brothers growing up was nothing short of a tough time. Growing up with boys was difficult. I hit puberty early but bloomed into a butterfly fairly late, I wore men's clothes until I was 13 years old, I had "chicken legs", but was always fat and "needed to lose weight", I was taller than the average male in my class (at every grade until I hit 8th grade) and was teased profusely throughout childhood, I didn't learn how to put make up on properly until a couple of years ago (mind you I'm 27 now), the list goes on and on and on. 

It was only difficult in the sense that I had no female backing at home. My mom didn't encourage me to dress like a young lady, and when I did she would grow upset at my "figure" being visible through form-fitting clothes. I was quite confused, and as a result I'm not very girly, but enjoy girly things like pedis and manis and the occasional buffet pigout sesh with my gals. My brothers are always going to be my brothers, and I will always appreciate all the confusion and tormenting I grew up with because as a result, my skin is thick... physically and... expressively? lol 

And now I have another brother to add to the mix, and my sister :) my one and only.

God is good... and this was literally a pointless blog post until the beginning of this sentence.

The end.
Mrs. New Muli.



4.09.2013

Inspired by Iva... Take It Easy Tuesday (Inspired by her husband, Romeo)

Today is Tuesday. It's a normal Tuesday, really, except for the fact that I have to drive out to Azusa for a conference that is taking place this evening in lieu of my 12 hours of classes for the week. Although this conference will more than likely not be very engaging or interesting to me like the last one, I will take a few hours of information and free dinner of 12 hours of classes any week during the semester.

I've always been an avid writer. I enjoy writing, more than I like reading, and probably more than I like talking. I think this is a result of my silent days of depression, because I did go through those phases quite a few times in my day. Growing up as the only girl with a mother like mine, with three brothers that very similar to her, and an absent father that normally stood in my defense for anything. In essence I found myself quite lonely growing up because I did not have a very healthy relationship with my mother, my father was only present on the weekends, and for only a certain amount of time, and having three brothers that all had concerted efforts to make me cry led me to continuously be on my own. I was different from them anyway. They had no fear of my parents, I don't know why, my mama was CRAY CRAY! She still is, but thankfully she has found the Lord and is less cray cray, but cray cray nonetheless.

Anyhow, I began writing, poetry specifically, back in my younger days of suicidal ideation. Yeah yeah, I went through it, but it was not that serious. My attempt at saying is that is not to desensitize it, but to... well okay, it was a serious matter, but thankfully nothing happened. I never attempted suicide. Why? I would think of how my friends would react, I would think of pissing off my family, and I would think of how the dishes would stack up in my absence... that all ultimately led me to take out frustration and so forth to the pen and paper. I mean, the dishes had to be done, no doubt about it! Eventually I acquired the ability to release my emotions in a positive manner that was all done to my benefit. That skill that I learned early on in my life was very relieving for me, even if I was 12 years old, I was able to SAY how upset I was, without lashing out... and still get the dishes done - like a BAWSS.

In essence what I want to share is how writing has served a greater purpose than just allowing me to speak negativity in a positive way. That sounds paradoxical, but it's absolutely possible. Writing about specific emotions for me has always held an element of peace that failed me whenever I spoke about specific emotions. It's a gift from God that I am given words. I am so thankful.

I hope that today goes smoothly. I have more to update my blog with, and I am only finding my reason to come back to my blog as a result of reading Iva's blog. Thank the heavens for that woman! My blog posts are all sporadic and so forth, but as I am changing as a person I really should take the time to write about it. I have found the MOST comfort in reading blogs from my past and recognizing my growth. It's very rewarding!

Welp, I need to get ready to my commute.

Aurevoir,
Mrs. New Muli.