sponsor me!

I am going to swim a mile (or .5 more) for women with cancer. Here's my schpiel...before I change it 100 more times. You can donate and read the most current version here (click "Finding a swimmer" and type "Underwoman" for swimmer).

Hey! I am committed to raising $500 which provides emergency financial assistance for rent, utilities, and groceries for one Oakland woman with breast cancer. If 50 of you donate $10 each, I'm good to go!

I'd like to think of this as "sponsoring" one Oakland woman with cancer. In addition to or in lieu of making a financial contribution, I also invite you to pray for this one woman, for whatever she is going through, though we don't know who she is now.

I think we all know at least one special woman in our lives that has battled cancer -- for me, it's been my friend's mom, my co-worker, and a college student from church. I feel privileged to have heard their stories and to know them. I also found very sobering this column by Tammerlin Drummond (Oakland Tribune columnist) about recent state cuts to cancer detection programs for low-income women.

Take a read: http://www.mercurynews.com/columns/ci_15771074?nclick_check=1.

I swim on Saturday, October 2 at 12 noon. Holla!

at the end

Today I have been contemplating the concept of the weekend. I haven't had a weekend off in the last three months or so. While most of them were filled with working in the office, there were some where I still had to be "on" for non-work-related weekend family trips and wedding festivities.

Last weekend was the first one I had "off" -- I went on a hike with my college buddies and made sure to have a lot of time to myself afterwards. But true rest still eluded me.

And then another week descends on me...
Each day and night is a negotiation of whether we will be getting more stuff done or more rest. You plan date-time with yourself this weekend. There are some tasks you'd like to get done: clean the bathroom, catch up on e-mails with friends, look at your expenses to better budget your finances.

We get to Friday evening, but it's still not your time -- it's time to go to a musical and catch up with an old friend till the wee hours of the morning.

We get to Saturday -- time to buy a gift for and go to a friend's bridal shower. After that, you say, you will have all the time for yourself.

The bridal shower runs into early evening. You're driving home and wonder whether you still have the energy to keep the date you had planned for yourself -- ramen noodles on College Ave. then a screening of the film "Winter's Bone" playing at the Shattuck.

You are determined to keep the date with yourself. And you go.

Saturday's over -- drat, didn't get to the weekend tasks. At least the temptation to do work at this hour is completely out of the question.

Sunday comes. You wake up earlier than usual. Unlike most Sundays, you had prepared to have a little downtime before you go to the church worship service; no attempts to do any of your tasks before going to church, like you usually do.

You eat a hearty breakfast of peanut butter and jelly toast with the intention of going to the local pool to get some laps in after church. You will exercise outside, dang it, you tell yourself. It's summer.

You go to church. You do not socialize with your friends afterwards. This is your time, you remind yourself. You get home. You feel like reading a magazine before you head to the pool. You do it. Then you look at the time and make sure you have at least 1 hour to do your laps.

You change into your bathing suit before heading out. It's cold, you think to yourself. And I think I might be on the verge of getting sick. Is it a good idea to go to the pool?

But you push yourself to go. You drive to the pool, pay the $5, march into the women's locker room, take your clothes off with your bathing suit on already, don your swim cap, and you force yourself to go into the cold shower to rinse off. You step out into the pool area. The sun is shining and the breeze isn't too bad. Some quick stretches, some pacing between the lane you have decided to swim in, and the cabinet with all the kickboards and buoys, and you insert yourself into the warm salty water. And you stroke.

20 minutes in, as you turn your head back and forth to breathe, and you see the blue sky and sun-drizzled scenery, you are smiling inside. You cool down kicking with the kickboard and you feel like you've made the best decision of your life coming here.

You're back home and you toast some bread with cheese, cut open an avocado, and rip off a tin of sardines. You cut an orange into slices. You realize that you eat out almost everyday and relish this opportunity to make your own simple lunch with fresh fruits and not have to transact to have this meal. You make a pact with yourself to swim and make a fresh meal afterwards every Sunday.

You wash the dishes and you have an inner dialogue with yourself, or rather, between your husband self and your wife self.

Wife: Dear, are we still going to go to your co-worker's party this afternoon? It's been such a great relaxing day. Let's stay home.

Husband: I haven't decided yet. There were some things I still wanted to do before going.

Wife: You still haven't cleaned the bathroom sink. It's disgusting.

Husband: I told you I'd get to it this week.

Wife: You're not going to work, are you?

Husband: No (hesitantly). (then more confidently) No. Just wanted to organize around the house a bit. I think we should buy a new vacuum cleaner.

Wife: And we have to plan our vacation. We are going to have a vacation.

Husband: Don't worry. I'm not going to let them persuade me to stay.

Wife: We have to get out of here, lest you feel tempted to go to the office.

Husband: I know, dear.

Wife: (softly) I hardly see you. This is the first time in a long while that we've actually spent time with each other.

Husband: I know, dear.

Wife: It's like I'm living with a robot who doesn't really care for me.

Husband: I do, darling.

Wife: You know, you don't have to do this.

Husband: I know. And it's just temporary. And it's good for us - it provides us stability and the resources to do things we enjoy, go on vacation, eat well...

Wife: But you're not happy right now. I can see it.

Husband: It'll be over soon. It will be.

something missing

My way of taking a break lately has been catching up with current pop culture, i.e., Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, Taylor, Twilight... I finally decided to watch some of Beyoncé's more recent videos. I actually liked some of her songs and was curious about what the videos were like.

My song rankings:
(1) Halo
(2) Sweet Dreams
(3) Diva
(4) Ego
(5) Single Ladies (Grammy's Song of the Year...really?! I feel like I'm taking crazy pills - isn't she just chanting with a whistle sound in the background and the catchy chorus repeating?)

My video rankings:
(1) Sweet Dreams (love her attitude and dance moves - I would ignore the beginning)
(2) Halo (sweet)
(3) Single Ladies (yeah, yeah, yeah)
(4) Ego (kind of boring, but at least, she sticks with one line of thought that seems to fit the theme)
(5) Diva (too many costume changes - lack of focus).

After a while, I was, of course, mesmerized by her beauty. But I felt a little sick, like having too much candy, and too much perfection. She's too beautiful, too talented, too much...
Naturally, with her overly sexy presentation, I also felt like a peep show patron.

Being the old fogie I'm becoming, I longed for the old days of R&B when, yes, the divas were always self-indulgent and looked at the camera too much, yet they seemed less so compared to the likes of Beyoncé and Lady Gaga today. And I know I'm sort of comparing apples and oranges (00's pop v. 90's hip hop)...but it was interesting nonetheless to think about what I missed about the so-called divas from my youth.

Back then, they were trying, but they weren't perfect. And it was alright. They were real people with real emotions and flaws, real bodies, with a more fun and relatable mix of class and chutzpah. And you wanted to be on their side, not worship them. And yeah, sometimes they were cheesy and a little horny (i.e., I was afraid to admit to watching their videos as a middle-schooler), but you loved them anyways.

Below are some of my favorites. What I love about these songs and videos, is that they just tell a story. No massive budget for people to do 10 million costume or set changes. Just the storyteller (singer), her emotion, and some good dancing/hanging. Accordingly, I think the choreography and visual storytelling in these videos are much more compelling than what's popular today.

A Mary J. Blige favorite of mine. Admittedly, there are multiple costume changes in this one and could be a precursor to the pattern that is so pervasive today. But I love some of her raw expression here. Another favorite is this one - if you don't feel anything after watching it, you have no soul.


This Salt N Pepa/En Vogue video opened my 14-year old eyes when I first saw it. What a song. What a video. On another note, what ever happened to women rappers?


Saved the best for last -
Monica exemplifies the wonderful mix of down-to-earthness, cuteness, strength, sexiness, and class. She's also very beautiful and elegant but doesn't shove it down your throat. This song and choreography are the best!
(*dedicated to Lei Lei)

young love

Meet "The Xx."

This is one of many bands being showcased at the South by Southwest (SXSW) film and music conference/festival in Austin this March, which I will be attending from very start to finish. (I'm totally stoked.) Thanks to SXSW, I have become acquainted with and fallen in love with this lovely band. I want to listen to them when I wake up and before I go to bed, and just about all the hours in between.

They are pure, refreshing, youthful, and their minimalist arrangements inspire me to write naked truth and beautiful music.

Did you ever have a period in your life that you felt exemplified you the best? I've always been quite fond of my 15-year old self - slightly awkward and still finding my way, yet very bright, disciplined, and unafraid to be who I wanted to to be. This band's music has awakened in me an inner celebration of the spirit of youth that gives a damn in a quiet, unjaded, and courageous way. They make me believe anything is possible.

Here is my current favorite of the album.

Your Hands

This week was really hard. All around - personally, at work.

Things were going well...and they are still. But lately, I've felt much disappointment and longing in some of my friendships to the point where I can't hide it anymore.

I long for human connection, but am sometimes so hurt by it, whether it be from from the insensitivity of it, the withholding of it, or it not being the way that I had hoped, to the point where it takes all of me to still put myself out there and I just can't.

But I see how necessary it is for me to experience the ache of putting others before myself, to sacrifice, to let things go, and to do it all with a joyful heart. I see more clearly how oblivious I'd been to that same grace shown towards me, and I am thankful for this process, and especially God's faithfulness, as much as it hurts. Knowing this has helped me keep it together.

However, I am just as grateful, if not more, for last night, when, at a very dark moment, I received an e-mail from my sister checking in with me and telling me that many times when she heard this song, she thought of me, and wanted to share it with me.

And I was finally able to cry.

know that you'll be back for more

This morning I woke up feeling my abs, thighs, and shoulders for the first time in a while. Although it hurt, it felt good, too. I was encouraged that my first workout session with my Gold's Gym personal trainer was paying off.

I signed up with Gold's just before the holidays to take advantage of the year-end promotions and to try to set up a healthy alternative to my running routine, which has increasingly aggravated my knee pain in the last few months.

This is my first time joining a gym, and I have been easily amused by Gold's motivational mottos hung around the space. As I change my pants in the locker room, I notice one that says, "If it hurts to tie your shoes, you know you're doing something right." Right above the handle of the door that exits from the gym, you're warned with, "Know that you'll be back for more tomorrow."

Although I snickered and wanted to brush it off as a gimmick, I sincerely asked myself yesterday, as I exited the door:

"Will I be coming back for more?"

Yesterday's PT session was hard, as well as embarrassing with my frequent grunting and grimacing (oftentimes, the PT would say, "Your face says everything - we're doing a good job here..."). But I have to admit that I found it very meditative to do bicep curls as I ever so slowly lowered those dumbbells on each rep, and found myself feeling at peace with the aching in my muscles that I was imposing on myself. And as much as I hated doing the other exercises, it was fun to do different activities and try to win the approval of my PT. It's amazing how much my people-pleasing nature accomplishes.


Yes, I think I will be coming back for more.


And the motto came back to me as I woke up this New Year's Day morning with the sore muscles, and the uncomfortable task of greeting my parents this New Year's Day with the news of the break-up, and facing yet another year at a job that I was not crazy about, another year of not having finished my music album, another year of not knowing what the hell I want to do with myself. However, I knew deep down that I was going to "come back for more". . . more challenges, more misfortunes, more opportunity, more risk-taking, more love, more frustration, more joy, more work, more of this thing I call "my life."

And it's all good.

a time of silence

For the last few months, I've been fighting a battle in my mind. Yesterday, that battle ended, and the noise has stopped.

Although I am glad to have reached this place of silence, I am struggling with the acute sense of pain from the loss, emptiness, of the death of a relationship. Like remembering a lost loved one, in the quiet moments, you recall the funny exchanges you had with the person, how you felt with them, how handsome they were, and the defining moments when they were there for you. And though not much time has passed, you miss them sorely because of the knowledge that things will never be the way they used to.


But I believe everything will be okay.

And I realize now, more than ever, that what I really need during this period is to just be alone, here, in the quiet...