Nah, I'm filipino.

Or I should say I'm a filipinA.

I am.  But I'm not.  Several REAL filipinos have told me so. 

"What island are you from?"

"Uh, Kauai." I say.

"Hmmpf, where's that?"

"In Hawaii."

"Oh, I meant Philippine Islands.  You not true filipino then"

Apparently not.  Despite being three quarters filipino, I am not.  More so, I can't speak Tagalog. I thought I knew some filipino words.  But none of my friends ever knew the words I knew. 

I am a quarter Japanese. I don't speak Japanese either.

So when people used to ask me, "What are you (your nationality/ethnic background)?" I used to answer, "I'm from Hawaii."

"Oh, so you 're Hawaiian?"

"Um, no, I'm not"

Because I'm not.  Not a single drop of Hawaiian in my blood.

LOL Neither can I speak Hawaiian.

Sometimes people get frustrated when I don't have a straight answer.  You'd be frustrated to if you had to answer those questions all your life and not really *have* an answer. 

One would say I'm "local."  Ha.  But I don't even live in Hawaii anymore.  If it were a legitimate answer, I would say, I was pidgin.  Yeah, like the language.  Like creole.  But then again, people don't even consider pidgin a real language.  But like pidgin, I am made up of a mixture of cultures and beliefs.  I could identify with almost all.  Yet, I couldn't claim to belong to any.

Until... the internet and it's accessibilty and information.  As more and more people are on it, the more it is filled with information.  I like it.  In the beginning, I took it for granted.  I chatted, blogged, emailed and played games on the internet but now, holy cow, I am discovering... THE WORLD.  Hah.  You laugh, but seriously, I did not know the true power of the Information highway.  And now I know who I am.  Well sort of.  I found the filipino words I knew.  They were not Tagalog.  They were not Ilocano.  They were Visayan. 

I knew there were different regions and dialects in the Philippines but I only could rely on what was told to me. My family often relayed information that they heard or grew up understanding but they weren't entirely sure. Take "buyag" for instance.  No one in the family really knew exactly what it means but they had a general idea.  Many of them were encouraged not to speak filipino and many customs were just done and not really explained.  My mom told me something about being Visayan, but then she said Grampa was Ilocano, Then she said something about Pangansinan. Who knows!!  All I know now is that the words I grew up hearing are definitely Visayan. Thanks to the internet.  I would have never found that out if it weren't for all this information that is available to us.  You think I would have figured it out in the library pouring over encyclopedias?  Or, I would have had to find every single different filipino dictionary there is and painstakingly go through them looking for those few and familiar words! And that's even if I was spelling them correctly.

How has the internet, specifically, the information you can get through the internet, helped you?  Google and Wikipedia are my new favorite go-to sites.

Now that I have a place to start, I can.  I'll always be "pidgin" but now I am closer to finding my true heritage and embrace it.   It'll be hard, since my mom is no longer here to really guide me but, maybe by the next time someone asks me what I am, I'll have more to say than just, "I'm a walrus.*"

*Reference- The Breakfast Club

Hehe.  Man it's like a ghost town here.  Most of my xanga buds have either shut down their blogs or moved on to bigger, better things.... and the few who remain seem to still have interesting things to say and are probably too cool to care who's on here or not.

So, I figured I'd take a break from my mafia, from my farm, from the fish tanks, and the cafe'... lol, yeah you know what I'm talkin' about... and check out my old 'hood.   I used to spend hours catching up with my fellow Xangans and now I'm wasting my time and brain cells on the gazillion Facebook applications and games they have.

Not that its a bad thing... One of the apps is called Zoo World.  They have all sort of different animals and a couple facts about each of them. The Beebee girl saw a picture of an orca and asked, "What's that?" 

"It's a killer whale," I told her.

"No, it's a orca!"  She said proudly.

Well. 

So....

*awkward silence*

...you come here often?

We were getting ready to go holo-holo.  We were talking story.  It was like nothing had happened.  We laughed, she grumbled, she joked, and we chatted about the stuff we normally talked about.  I was cleaning out the back of a new van (rental?) and packing stuff for our trip. Then, I fiddled - more like struggled - with the ice packs, new gadgets, and built-in coolers that this new innovative van had, she laughed and gave me suggestions. 

"Try put 'um dis way."

"Yeah... like dat. 

"Get 'um!"  You got it. She usually said that when things work out. 

The van was packed and Aunty Verna was going get it ready to go while we waited for uncle guys. I watched and chuckled as she adjusted the drivers seat fully upright and fairly close to the steering wheel... like she normally did.  She had started the van, reversed out of the parking space and was ready to go.  Aunty fiddled around with some stuff then looked out the drivers window.  At that point, mom and I shook our heads and grinned.  We both knew that Aunty was going yell for uncle guys to "Hurry up, let's go already!"

As we sat and waited, I opened a scrapbook of sorts with old pictures that I have never seen before.  I started to ask about them when I noticed an article about how a celebrity had faked her death and was talking about it to the person writing the piece on her.

The world shifted.  I looked at my mom, who was busy talking about cooking, and stared at her in puzzlement.  Was she supposed to be here?  Something in the back of my mind recalled that she had left us... that she was supposed to be dead. I wanted to ask her what happened, how is that she was here... 

And then, I woke up and cried.

I knew I had been dreaming of her often, but my day usually starts with so many tasks and thoughts of tasks - that I never remember them.  And when I try to think back on them, they all seem to be like this dream:  Normal, as if nothing had happened.  What does it mean?  Is my subconsious making sure I remember her life and not her death? Or am I in denial - that I am trying not to think of her death? Is my mom herself (and this time, my Aunty too) visiting with me in my dreams? 

How are you?

If you have to ask... I'm okay.

Because it's easier than saying,

My chest hurts when thoughts of her come to me
before sleep does. 

It hurts in the wee hours when I'm semi-conscious
waking from a dream

It hurts when I wake in the morning and reality hits
that she is not here.

So, if you have to ask...
I'm okay.

It was a hard day today.

They say it should get easier.  It seems like a lie. Especially when everything around me brings a memory of her to my mind.

I was planning on going back to work tomorrow but how can I when I am constantly on the verge of tears. Especially now that everyone's gone home and I'm here left alone with my thoughts, the tears come too easily.

I miss my best friend, advisor and confidant. 

I miss my mom. 

Seems I've been sucked into the world that is called FaceBook...

All it takes is change to get me spring cleaning.  I'm REALLY bad at going back and deleting old voicemail messages.  I had a whopping 80+ saved messages in my voicemail to go through. *Blush* Yeh. Ooops.

In going through my messages, which shockingly ran back a few years ago.  As I listened to them, most of the messages were the norm but some were totally unexpected.  Imagine my surprise to hear old and familiar voices.  Voices from the past. Some of the messages made me smile.  Some made me even laugh out loud. (Laptops in freezers)  But some made me stop and reflect. 

It's strange sometimes to know someone for a long period of time.  To hear a familiar voice. To hear the dynamics of a friendship/relationship that once was.  And if it matters, I don't regret any of it.  They were good times. They were fun times. They were memorable times. Sure there was bad times but that's part of the whole picture.  As a friend once said, "Without the sour, the sweet just ain't as sweet..."  We "synched." We had a connection. Now, all that is left is a stranger's voice on the other end. 

It makes me sad that this, just a voice from the past, was the end result. 

(originally posted Saturday, May 03, 2008, 1:55am)

Don't have really much to say these days.  I can't even attribute it to being a "grown up" because I know there are "grown ups" who have way more exciting lives than me.  I need some motivation or a hobby maybe... Hrmmm.. ideas? 

Well, I WAS going to go on about how someone out there is determined to make sure we are miserable.  I WAS going to write about how things keep getting worse and how the bad times just keep coming.  I WAS going to plead. "Give us freeeking break already!" 

I really was. 

Not that things got better.  They haven't.

I just thought about perspective.

Things could be worse.  (Please pray they won't: I can't handle any more than all this...) I am counting my blessings - and I have a lot.

I just needed perspective.

And happy pills.

Ativan is a wonderful invention.

Mommy's a little late posting this but I finally got her to remember to download my pics.

She stuck me in the same hallween costume from last year. I was not happy.

So she put me in front the mirror so I can see that I was a cute lil kitty.

Hello Kitty!

I was happy!

Then we went to the GlendOberfest at Sahuaro Park.  I gave kisses to everyone I passed.

Of course, I saved a kiss for daddy.

By the end of the night, I was pooped. No more kisses.