I have not felt compelled to create a Tumblr post in awhile. With two lengthy papers on my plate, I have gotten into the mindset that my writing comes at a cost; the time and effort I put into writing posts means resources away from my papers. And if you have any clue about my life, then you would know that there is nothing more I want than to get the hell out this area. Simply put, I’ve been here for too long. And the completion of my Field Study is my one-way ticket out of here. 

But because I’m a walking paradox, I’m thinking to myself, ‘would the next step be all that great?’

I always think about my future solely through the way I envision it, and I never take into the account the process in which I’ll get there. All I do is daydream. I create benchmark dates where I envision my life will magically turn into the way I want it to be. I can’t wait till the end of this week… this month… this summer …this year. And at every mile-marker at the road of my life, I become disillusioned with the way things actual are. 

You see, my dreams are scenarios that involve other people and how they will perfectly fit into my life. And when the people closest to me cannot align themselves the way I imagined, I’m left all by myself and disappointed with the way things are. In order to move on, I envision a new ideal life for myself with arbitrary dates where I’ll finally be content. 

That’s bullshit. That’s not the way I can continue to live. It just sets me up for the big letdown. I need to recognize that the only factor that I can control in life’s scenarios is: myself. And I need to put greater effort in deriving my life’s pleasures from reality, not far-fetched dreams. I’m wasting my time thinking too much. From here on out, my dreams are going to be dynamic, with the short-term complimenting the long. I simply want to enjoy every day as a new journey and not as another step towards a dead end. 

Don’t you love it when your ethnicity puts you in awkward situations?

While driving my co-worker home, he kept softly saying: cervezas? Cervezas! After playing a cross-lingual game of charades, I deduced that cerveza meant beer in Spanish. Nice, he wants to kick back a couple brewskies with me after work. But I politely declined his advances and dropped him off at his apartment.

Except that he wasn’t offering me cervezas. Once I parked my car, he said, nooo… 7-11! Oh, he wanted me to drive him to buy some beers. I get it now. Kind of rude, but whatever. 

Once we get to the store’s parking lot, homeboy hands me a twenty and says: Yo no tengo ID. No ID? No shit. I understood that from the time you said “7-11.” I felt like being charitable this evening, so of course I was buying the beer.

We proceed to go into the store and he looks at the Coronas for about 5 minutes. Finally he says, “no 18-pack?” I tell him, “no cabron, they only have a 12-pack.”

“Oh, si. We go to Kroger? Maybe Wal-mart?”

At this point I put my foot down. “No, we buy now. You’re lucky they have limes here. Not a lot of convenience stores have this kind of fruit selection.”

He eventually settles on the Coronas and now it’s time to pay at the register. Our cashier was a tatted up white chick, maybe in her late 20’s. From her vantage point, we were simply two Hispanics trying to buy Coronas, which she assumes is our National drink. And how she tried to communicate with us will stay with me forever:

“HOLA! You two want to drink BEER-O to mucho RELAX-O ?! Coronas are very good…no wait, what’s the word in Spani… they are BUENOOO!” 

I wanted to play dumb by nodding & say “Siiiiiiiii.” But she would be expecting that. So I decided to throw her off-guard and speak back in my whitest voice ever. ”Yes. These Coronas will serve us good after a hard day’s work. I can’t wait to drink a cold one, responsibly of course!”

After that, this chick’s jaw was down for about two minutes. She agreed that I should enjoy my beers responsibly and alas, our transaction was complete. Once we got into the car, I thanked my co-worker for having my back in 7-11 by letting me do all the talking. He stayed silent even in the car. Ahh, he’s still in character, he’s one of those method actors… 

Once I dropped him off, he offered me ten dollars for all the driving. I normally would’ve accepted because I’m a dick, but this particular night I declined. The opportunity for that memory was payment enough. 

DT Thursday…

I love doing those student-run sobriety tests downtown. It gives me a nice reference to how much alcohol I actually consume on my drinking nights.

Anyways, they introduced a new trick to their repertoire - a field sobriety test! Now, one can simulate getting pulled over for drunk driving without the consequences of failing. Nicely done, Psychology department - except for the fact that during this test, they pitched a curve ball my way.  

While walking the “straight line” test, I looked down at my first steps to make sure I was performing this routine sufficiently. And hell yes I was, because I’m so coordinated when I get my drink on I was pretty sober. All of a sudden when I looked up, an armed cop was standing there, monitoring my every step. Why did they boost up the intimidation factor?!

I’m not going to lie, I can’t perform under extreme pressure. After seeing this cop, I suspiciously stumbled & then gave clichéd excuses for my misstep. Fuck, now the officer is staring me down. Uhhh officer you gotta understand, it’s these flip-flops! Yeah, that’s it. You see, they’re a size too big for me, fucking Old Navy can’t mass produce for shit. They’re the ones you gotta arrest. Sir, SIR, why are you reaching for your cuffs?! Fuck this, I’m making a run for it.

And I would’ve ran off if I wasn’t limited by my cheap flip-flops. I would’ve ran 5 steps before tripping over my feet and falling into a bush. Anyways, the cop left (why was I so paranoid again?!) and I ended up blowing a BAC level of 0.033. That’s not even high enough to qualify for one drink.

I love being a lightweight. 

Live for 32.

I posted this on my Tumblr last year. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about my fallen friends. I miss them all. And through their lives, I always strive to be the best person I can be & to never take any day for granted. 

“The greatest thing that I learned from Virginia Tech did not come from any textbook. It came amidst the adversity during the coldest day of my life, on April 16, 2007. 

What initially bothered me from this day was that Cho would never have to answer to the crippling pain and hurt that he inflicted on our community. With his last bullet, a blatant coward revealed himself, afraid to answer for his own personal demons. No fair justice could ever be served upon Cho, but at the very least he should have never been allowed to seal his own fate. 

I dwelled upon this side of the tragedy for a while, but then I quit. There was no point in trying to find meaning from a man with a disturbed mind. The answers I hoped to get would inevitably never add up. 

Instead, I found solace by learning about the lives of the victims. I personally knew three of the thirty-two victims, and their lives and tales were quite extraordinary. Each one of my friends were gifted individuals who carried special traits that I can only aspire to have. 

And so now, I have decided, I am going to try to possess the positive qualities that defined my friends’ lives. 

Because of them, I will demand my best efforts from myself in everything that I do. Because of them, I will try to be a positive presence around others. Because of them, I will embrace every second of my waking life as if each day, each moment, is a new journey.

I must not cheat this life that I am fortunate to have. I know that each of my fallen friends would have continued to do amazing things with their brilliant lives. I must live for them. I must live for 32.”