Showing posts from May, 2010


“Friends are the family you choose for yourself.”—Edna Buchanan

I’ve learned from my experiences that sometimes your family--blood relatives--can be the most disappointing people in your life. If you’re reading my blog, it’s probably not YOU.

My late father kept some of his family in check when he married my mother. He made sure that we were respected. Why did he need to do this? My mother is Korean, and my father is Chamorro. My mother felt slighted when Chamorro was spoken in spite of her presence, but instead of griping, she did her best to learn the language. My mother, new to Guam, felt hurt when family got together in the next house and overlooked inviting her and her young children, but my pitbull father unleashed his wrath on them when he returned from a long day at work.

Love bloomed from my dad’s advocacy for fairness and for thirty years I truly believed I was loved by my father’s family. When he died, several members displayed their true colors. The ugliness in their hearts …

My Military Duty is on Spin Cycle

First off, I find it cool and very narcissistic that I could follow my own blog.

I am up late, passed midnight as my family rests. This is my only time to write, to think, to enjoy a recorded show or Pattinson flick. And, more importantly, test my will power and not raid the refrigerator or pantry--even if it's been five hours since dinner. So far, so good. I'll just imagine my cold glass of hanom ("water" in the Chamorro language) is an iced frappucino.

As a wife of a service member, washing his uniform into the next day is an honor. I get to sit and blog while he recharges for another day serving the country. As his uniform spins in the dryer, I am just THANKFUL that he's in port. I'm thankful that his hard work affords me the chance to be a STAY-AT-HOME Goddess.

To my hard-working husband...I salute you.

Esta later!

And so it begins....YATAA!

That’s me. Each day is a struggle, another chance to do right. I’ve been happily married for the last six years and I have enjoyed motherhood. Still, there is something missing. I’ve been feeling out of balance. I’m very into yin and yang and if you know me, I’m at times more yang than anything else. One thing is certain, I am a writer. Writing is my soul. When my fingers tap along, the words come out and help me make sense of my world.

At 36 (I’ve never been ashamed of my age), I still feel like I live in a cocoon. I have certain life accomplishments checked off my list, but I want more. Is it wrong to want more? I feel like I should be wailing the lyrics to Radiohead’s song, Creep—“I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul.”

What is the role of my blog? How much of my private life do I want to expose? Just enough.

I would be happy if no one read my blog, because I am first and foremost doing this for ME. My thoughts and realizations and confusions need an outlet. My writing, my quip…