Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Attack of Idea Monster

Do most of your GREAT ideas come during the night when you're fast asleep or in your dreams?  And instead of waking up (at whatever ungodly hour) and writing down those thoughts, you let them simmer and say, "I'll write it down in the morning"?  By morning, those thoughts have vanished into the misty, dream world from whence they came and can only be revisited (sometimes NOT) during that dream state?  As a writer, it's frustrating when I try to re-think, re-dream, re-vitalize to re-create those amazing thoughts I had the night before.

I need to invent a machine that captures my dream/sleep thoughts and write it down before the Idea Monster gobbles them up!

 
I dream of great story ideas that our Polynesian youth/children can identify with such as living in a new space, moving from the islands to the U.S., incorporating Polynesian legends into modern stories... 
 
I dream of characters like Uncle Lua who helps his niece adapt to island life.  Or Sela who is afakasi growing up in the islands and struggling with her identity.  Or Big Bad Chief Lino who is harsh on the outside but a teddy bear/protector on the inside...
 
I dream of places like my island home, the beaches, the breeze, the smell of flowers after it rains, the hard streets of Los Angeles or Rose Park (Utah), the clustering of Polynesians, the mixture of Polynesian by neighborhood or marriage...
 
I dream of feelings like crying on my grandma's grave when visiting home after being away for twelve years, the safety of that grave and knowing my ancestors are watching over me no matter where I live, the deep love I have for my culture/family/homeland, the sadness I feel when people stop caring, the happiness in a child's smile, the heartbreak of a love lost, the healing after a painful hurt...
 
I dream in color, black and white, I dream in other languages, well, mostly English or Samoan.  Man, my Samoan is JAMMIN' in my dreams. When I awake, I can't speak it
to save my life.  But I smile...
 
I dream of happy times where I wake up laughing and feeling content with life.  I dream of scary times where I wake up and walk around the house checking to see if everyone is safe.  I dream of sad times where I wake up and my pillow is wet from the tears I shed.  I dream of being in Utah yet being in American Samoa at the same time.  My current life and old life colliding into a wonderful, connected piece of my life's puzzle.
 
I dream and I awake with bits and pieces of what could be a great story.  But alas, the Idea Monster must be fed and unfortunately, he feeds on my dreams!


Monday, June 17, 2013

I Suck At Blogging

Top Ten Reasons Why I Suck at Blogging:
10.  I work a full time job and have four children to raise, some who are now teenagers so I REALLY need to be around and involved.

9.  I like to sleep and unfortunately, my creative writing juices don't start flowing until late into the night.  By that time I'm sleeping because I have to go to that full time job I mentioned above.  And I have to actually be coherent at work AND at home.  My brain does not function well on 2 hours of sleep.  Which doesn't work when you have to solve problems, help with other people's writing, assist with homework, and figure out the complicated task of what to cook for dinner.

8.  I can't blog at work.  Not that I can't, but I don't have the time between seeing students, case management, and planning events.  I don't have that quiet, uninterrupted time to really think of something witty, provocative, insightful, or magical to blog about.  Like this list...

7.  My brain is fried.  By the end of the day, all day, every day, my brain ceases to function and becomes a vegetable.  It can only process mindless television shows that require very little thought, or it can only eek out something in the personal journal entry (usually a paragraph with a list of "This is what happened today"), or it can read a book that doesn't take a lot of effort (definitely not a Game of Thrones reading time).

6.  I was introduced to this game on my phone called "Words With Friends" and I've been obsessed with beating everyone on my playlist ever since.  So whenever I check my phone for something, out pops a new challenge and I just HAVE to play my turn. 

5.  I have these life forms called children, in particular a 7-year-old, who can sense when I'm not around.  Like now.  It's 2:45am and she woke up and couldn't find me.  So my thought process was interrupted because I had to let her know I was downstairs.  Writing.  Or trying to write.  So no matter what time of the day or night, I can't seem to find time to write.  Or blog.  Or even think.

4.  I'm an introvert.  I have no problems speaking to people and carrying a conversation but in the end, I need quiet time.  Writing takes some thought so it gets put on the back burner.  Because I'm trying not to have a melt down.  Or get the shakes.  If you're an introvert, you know what I'm talking about. 

3.  I get distracted easily.  Like when I'm thinking of all of the laundry that needs to be washed.  Or wondering if anyone has eaten and should I cook something.  Or thinking about the kids' rooms and how I need to sort through the mess.

2.  I don't have much to say.  Okay, that's not entirely true.  But some of my thoughts are not appropriate for a blog that my family reads.  Those thoughts are not even logged in my personal journal.  They are just tucked away in the back of my brain to be filed and pulled out when I have the time to sort through them.  If I grow old and still have brain power, I might take that opportunity to share those thoughts.  By then, I'll be old (okay, older than I am now) and won't care.  Because I will have lived my life and can be at liberty to say whatever I want.  I'll pull the old, gray hair lady card.  Yup, that's what I'll do.

1.  And the number one reason I suck at blogging...  with the ten billion things I need to do, something has to give.  And blogging is more like a luxury than a necessity.  I'm not even sure how many people read this nonsense, if any.  So, out of my ten billion things, I may pull back on one of them to put blogging in the forefront.  And write more often.  And maybe my one or two readers will be happy with my random thoughts.  Get a laugh or two.  Have an ah-ha moment.  We'll see...
 

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Giving Hope

Picture a 15-year-old daughter (mind you, this is prime time for hormones, anxiety, and emotional outbursts) telling her mother that she gives people 'hope'.  She proceeds to tell her good ol' mom that she has felt that hope when that crazy old lady reads her essays and gives her feedback.  She says, "Mom, you are also a miracle worker.  People come into your office and when they leave, they are so happy and they have that look on their face that says 'everything is going to be fine and I can DO THIS'."  Perfect scenario for a Hallmark movie after years of trials and struggles between mother and daughter?  Great story line for an ABC Afterschool Special on mother/daughter relationships, always after some turmoil or another?  Nope.  None of the above.  This is a real life, feel good moment that had nothing to do with a wayward daughter who has finally found her way.  No drama.  No pretense.  Just out-and-out honesty.  This is what my daughter said to me a couple of months ago.  And I cried.  Normally, I wouldn't mind when I'm bawling like a baby but we were in her school, waiting to meet with her Language Arts teacher for Parent-Teacher conference.  And no, she wasn't sucking up to me because she's failing.  As a matter of fact, she is a straight 'A' student who never causes any trouble, at home or school.  She was just being completely and brutally honest.

As a mother, we always want to know that we 'done good' raising our children.  There are so many feelings of instant gratification early in life when your child tells you that they love you or write you letters about how your the best mom they ever had (compared to the others they had before you???) or even just the hard squeezing hugs that make you feel like you're the most important person in their life.  As your children grow older, the hugs and kisses diminish, the outward display of love is not cool anymore, and you've come down to 'fist bumping' to show SOME sort of affection.  So to have my teenage daughter, on the brink of adulthood, tell me that I'm awesome (okay, I'm summarizing my own way), is that bright light, angels singing, ah-ha moment that says, "All is right with the world and I have succeeded in raising my children."  Oh, wait, there are three more after her.  Shucks!  Back to work...

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

How the Grinch stole New Years Eve???

Picture in your mind a New Years Eve filled with dancing, laughter, drinking, fireworks...  A New Years Eve celebration to remember ringing in the new year with joy, merriment, and anticipation for what's to come.

Now picture the scene from Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas where he's sucking up all of the gifts, food, decorations, trees, and laughing like a maniac back up to the top of his cold, frozen mountain.  That was my New Years Eve this year.  Grouchy.  Moody.  Negative.  Oh so negative.

I'm a huge fan of the Christmas/New Year's holiday!  I love the decorating, the anticipation of Santa, the time with family and reflecting on what we've accomplished the past year.  But for some reason, this transition into a new year was difficult for me. 

Don't get me wrong.  My kids are healthy, smart, well rounded, and everything I could ask for in my children.  I'm still married to the same man for 18 years.  I work at a job that I absolutely love and I've finally found what I want to be when I grow up.  My life is good.  So what's missing?  Why the feelings of anger and resentment?

I believe a lot of it has to do with my writing.  Or lack of it.  You can see I haven't posted anything since September.  Now that's pretty sad, if you ask me.  Has it been because I don't feel like I have a lot to write about?  I don't have any witty, amazing topic that will knock your socks off?  I haven't finished my book (or barely tackled it) so there's nothing to discuss?  Check, check, and check!

But as New Years Eve's go, I decided to come up with a few (very few) resolutions that I can live with and that will make me happy. 

Resolution 1:  Lose weight.  Probably the top (or at least top 5) resolutions for everyone but I have until August 31st to lose 30 pounds for a free trip to Las Vegas in October for the All Samoan Golf Tournament.  I've missed all of the tournaments so far and you know what?  Golfing makes me happy so I am bound and determined to Get 'Er Done!  Looking good also makes me happy so double whammy!

Resolution 2:  Write on my blog at least twice a month if not more.  If I have nothing stirring in my mind, then read some articles and come up with SOMETHING!  Whether it's witty, thought provoking, controversial, WHATEVER.  JUST WRITE!

Resolution 3:  Keep working on my book.  During this holiday break, I was able to sit for one day for six hours and just write.  No interruptions, no distractions.  I wrote 12 pages.  Hey, only 100+ more pages to go, right?  Not bad!

So, instead of being angry with the Grinch, like some of the people in Whoville were at first, I will think like Cindy Lou Who and remember that New Years Eve is not about the parties.  It's not about the fireworks or the merriment.  It's about being with the ones you love, being safe, and knowing that there are so many things to look forward to in life.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Upgrading the Muffin Top

Every so often, I read facebook posts that make me laugh out loud.  So when I come up with some brilliant thought or saying, I'm happy when I get the positive responses from friends and family.  The reaction I received from a post I wrote a while ago surprised me, especially when it went viral, not computer viral, but office viral.  I posted the following observation:

It's sad when your muffin top turns into a full on loaf of bread. (As I sit in my office drinking my pepsi and eating a free brownie...)

This opened up a "can of posts" from friends and family.  And coworkers.  About two weeks after my post, one of my coworkers walked up to me and said, "I heard about something clever this author wrote..."  and proceeded to quote my muffin top analogy.  I laughed.  I told her I was glad I could make her day.  She created her own analogy about moving stuff around when she climbs out of her car.  Some fat jokes ensued.  We basically took the muffin top talk to another level.

But in all seriousness...  I really was sitting in my office drinking a soda and eating a brownie so my overgrown muffin top is really my own fault.  Or is it?  I can think of a few excuses as to why my pants like to push my overstuffed tummy up into my throat...

*Four children.  Need I say more?  My stomach has been stretched out four times.  Even though it's been 6 years since the last stretching, I still think it affects the "bounce back" elasticity of the skin and muscles.  Not that I'm a medical doctor or anything.

*Stress.  Full time job, full time mom, full time housekeeper, cook, laundromat, chauffeur, nurse, monster/bad dream chaser, fixer-upper, and in the famous words of Yule Brenner in The King and I, "Eck-cetera, Eck-cetera, Eck-cetera"!

*Age.  The older you are, the quicker your metabolism falls into the abyss and your body is unable to break down the fat from ice cream, donuts, soda, cake, brownies, oh...  pretty much everything that tastes good.  It's your body's way of reminding you that you are no longer that cute, young chick who could wear tight clothing that showed all of the right curves.  Now, the curves are disproportionate and should really be hidden under dark, loose clothing. 

I'm sure I could write a novel on muffin tops and how it affects a person trying to look cute in jeans and a tight top.  I'm sure I can find medical data on the reasons for the existence of muffin tops and how to get rid of them once and for all.  I'm pretty sure I can write pages of testimonials from women who live with muffin tops and either like it or dislike it.  And, I know for sure my muffin top isn't going away anytime soon.  Curses to that Pepsi and free brownie!!!

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Hoping to Inspire


(Last October, my daughter's MESA club advisor asked me to be the guest speaker for the end of the year MESA banquet.  This is what I came up with in one night and with very little sleep.  LOL!)

In the Pacific Islands, education is not a new concept. Before there was the idea of formal education with buildings, classrooms, diplomas, and degrees, there were masters. When someone in the islands was educated, it was within a specific field of study where you were an apprentice for many years until you earned your mastery level. For example, a navigator would have to prove his skills by heading a voyage across the sea using only the stars and ocean currents to determine his destination. If he successfully completed the voyage, he would be deemed a master. Or in Hawaii, there were healers and there were bone setters. If someone broke a bone, these were the people who reset them. For their final exam and to earn mastery level, they would have to break one of their children’s bones and reset it. If it reset properly, they would become master bone setters. With this new concept of formalized education, we have changed our WAY of learning, but we haven’t changed the idea LEARNING ITSELF.


In my family, excellence in education was always a must. Expectations were set high and nothing less was tolerated. (This is also true in my own household today.) So going to college after high school was never a question. It was a statement. “What are you going to do after high school?” I’m going to college. By the time I finished high school, my mom had completed her Bachelor’s degree in elementary education and my dad had a Masters in Public Administration from Harvard University. So I was not considered a first generation college student. But I certainly felt like one. Growing up on a small island in the South Pacific, only visiting “the states” nine times in my 18 years of life, and being exposed to textbooks that were outdated by 20 years, I was not prepared for life in the United States let alone college. Add to that a lack of direction, I was confused all around. I never really knew what I wanted to major in. I went to high school with people who wanted to be a lawyer, another who wanted to go into business, and still others who were set on being a teacher. Me? I wanted to go into interior design. Or something in design. Or so I thought.

When I began my college career in California, not only was I far away from home, but I was in this fast paced, urban area, in which I felt completely overwhelmed. I was told by family and friends that I needed to be more assertive. I needed to speak out and speak up for myself. I was quiet in my classes and I never wanted to ask questions or add anything to the discussions. But I managed to get a job at the college bookstore and again, the concept of being assertive was brought up.

After my first year in college, I moved from California to Arizona to this giant of a school called the University of Arizona. The only reason why I moved there was because my sister was there. I had been accepted to the University of Hawai’i but I knew if I went there, even though my family wanted me there, I would never finish college. I had too many friends from high school living in the area and I knew I lacked the self discipline to refrain from the extracurricular activities associated with college life. So I chose the desert. Trying to be proactive and hone in on my newly acquired assertive skills, I walked into the general advising office to find out what classes I needed to take and maybe find some direction in life. When I told the advisor I didn’t know what I was doing she snapped at me and asked, “Why DON’T you know what you’re doing?” My assertive skills quickly flew out the window and I became that shy, scared girl who just moved from a small island where I had lived all of my life. I walked out of that office crying and feeling completely lost and alone. I looked at the catalog and began taking classes that were part of general education and trying to take exploratory classes into fields I thought I might be interested in.

It wasn’t until I moved to Northern Arizona University that I met with another advisor. Almost four years after that experience and taking random classes, I finally had direction. I decided I was interested in the Broadcasting field and one of my professors was also my advisor. He called me into his office and we looked at my credits for graduation. I was actually much closer than I thought and he even added a history minor to my degree. After six years in college, I graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Broadcasting and a minor in History. I never went into the Broadcasting field but my training in public speaking and journalistic writing prepared me for any job that came my way. Ten years later, I received my Master’s degree in Secondary Education because I finally realized what I wanted to be when I grew up. I had been a substitute teacher at one point during my college career and I really enjoyed teaching. I’ve taught preschool, kindergarten, elementary, junior high, and college classes. I am now an Academic and Career Advisor at Salt Lake Community College. I am a general advisor but I am also the advisor for the Pacific Islander students. I carry with me that very first advising experience and it inspires me to be an advocate for students and to make sure the students that leave my office are well informed, understand what they need to do, and have all of their questions answered.

When Mr. Smith sent me some ideas on what to speak about, he included first generation college student, first generation American, and being a female AND a minority. The first two topics you’ve heard about but the final two I chose to not dwell on. The reasons for that? I have never used my gender or my ethnicity to influence anyone’s decision on accepting me into college or getting a job. Hard work, dedication, perseverance. Those are three items needed to succeed in school and in life. I could have given up trying to get into advising after my first application was rejected. Even when my second one went nowhere. I applied for advising positions and out of all of those applications, I was only given two interviews. The first one did not land me the job. The second one did.

As you’re thinking about college, and you all should be doing that now even if you’re in middle school, I want you to change the wording a little. Instead of saying “I’m going to college”, I want you to say “I will finish college”. Whether you’re going for a trade, getting certified in an area of technical expertise, or going for that Bachelor’s degree, Master’s degree, or beyond, I encourage you to work hard, be dedicated, and persevere, no matter how difficult things may seem. You’re going to take difficult classes. You’re going to have trials in your life. You’re going to get rejected at least once in your life. It’s how you overcome those obstacles that will make you a stronger person. Be successful. Be happy. Be YOU!

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

The love of laughter

Laughter has been known to do many things. It relaxes the body. It boosts the immune system. It helps blood flow to the heart. It creates endorphins that make you feel good!


We Polynesians LOVE to laugh. Many times the laughter is not just soft, giggling in the hand like a geisha. It's all out guffawing where the neighborhood can hear and possibly the next town over. Once laughter starts within a Polynesian group, it doesn't stop. Because once it starts, one story has to top the next and the sounds of joy escalate. We know how to enjoy life. We know how to relax. We know how to smile. Even the most stoic person can't help but have their mouth start to turn up and show some teeth.


Scientists have also claimed that laughter burns calories. I like to laugh and when I'm around my family, it's all out ruckus. Unfortunately, I haven't seen the benefits in the calories department. Maybe it's because we're usually together eating. Quite a bit. That could be counterproductive. I don't know. That's why I'm not a scientist. Too many numbers.