Confessions: I love Country Music

Some of you might be surprised to learn that I have developed a recent love of country music, considering how I used to drop it like it’s hot back in the day.

“You were dancing like a black girl,” a lead executive in my company once told me. He was visiting from Italy, made friends with a coworker I was friends with, and for whatever reason – she brought him to the club we were at, and then to Purple Dot in Chinatown. (Welcome to America Italian man)  Needless to say, I walked around with my head down whenever he visited the Seattle office.

But I was in my early 20’s and single, and while I still like dancing, it is more subdued in nature.





Confessions: I love Country Music

Entry 44: Sit, Stand, Kneel, Don’t Show Up – You Can’t Win

This flag/anthem controversy is everywhere

What I’ve concluded after listening to political podcasts, reading articles, and watching the news is… you can’t win. If you sit, kneel, don’t show up –  to the right, you’re linked with Colin Kaepernick and you’re not honoring the flag. If you stand and disagree with the kneelers, sitters, and non-showers, to the left you’re somehow linked with Trump who represents racism and bigotry and everything against free speech.

I was watching this news blip on how the Cowboys tried to strategically stand with the NFL in their protest, while honoring the flag. They had meetings days before the game with everyone on the team to try to figure out how they could get their message out, without offending anyone. They ended up kneeling before the anthem even began and got boo’d, and then stood during the national anthem. It didn’t matter that they stood during the anthem,  taking a knee regardless of when the knee was taken, was associated that with Colin Kaep. and the NFL, and that didn’t sit well.

Another player from the Steelers, Alejandro Villanueva stood at the tunnel during the anthem while his team were in the lockerroom..  I heard some people, including people in his team, thought it was disrespectful he didn’t stay in the locker rooms with his team.  But if he hadn’t, people from the Right would wonder why he didn’t stand.

You can’t win. Someone, somewhere is bound to have a problem.

I brought up this point earlier in the week  about how it’s funny that people can have so much in common, get along so well, can laugh, watch ‘This is Us’ and cry about it together, go out and have a beer, but the moment when disagreeing politics or religion comes into play – they become enemies. People get so passionate about these two topics, that the commonalities that had once linked a fellow human being to another becomes forgotten.  Until disaster strikes, then humanity kicks in for a few moments… although even then people can be mean with their whole “God is taking away all the Trump supporters with the Hurricanes”.

I think it’s important to remember in the midst of this divide, that an individual’s convictions are products of their experiences and social-economic background that has defined their values and fears. But at the heart it, they are people just like everyone else : they pay bills, have to work a job, watch Game of Thrones and were all like What the Fuck when Hodor died, and experience emotions of love and anger just like every other human being.

That being said, I stood for the anthem when it came on at the bar I was at last Sunday.

I stood…not because I’m racist or don’t believe there’s issues that need to be addressed, or don’t believe in freedom of speech, or am product of white privilege (which someone can explain that to me if I am)  and I didn’t vote for Trump (really I think he should just his keep mouth shut and not tell private entities what to do and focus on not being such a horrible President), but I stood because of my values and conviction in what the flag represents. While I will respectively disagree with those who don’t stand, I come from a standpoint of understanding that even though we may have differing opinions, that doesn’t make anyone who disagrees with me a lesser person than me. I believe we’re all trying to push for a better future for the country and don’t think that there’s a person out there who is doing what they’re doing with the mentality that they want to bring America down – except for extreme terrorists. That’s another story.

Anyways, that is all for now. I probably stirred some pots, some people’s cursor  are probably hovering over the ‘defriend’ button, but not before they write a comment on how I am incorrect . They’ll type in the last sentence saying  something like “You’re horrible for standing and you don’t understand the struggle of the black community because of white privilege”.  then they’ll defriend me a half a second after they hit the send comment button. Or maybe they won’t comment at all and just de-friend me.

I really hope people don’t de-freind in real life me because I stood; I can be fun and personally think I’m awesome, but what can you do…it’s not the end of world…  you can’t win with people sometimes.

Entry 44: Sit, Stand, Kneel, Don’t Show Up – You Can’t Win

Entry 43: Becoming Older… and Apparently More Parent-y

Every Sunday for me and my family is Football Sunday. And when it’s not football season, it’s Walking Dead Sunday, and then Game of Thrones Sunday. And if neither of those shows are on, me and husband look at each and are like, none of the shows we like are on… what do you want to do? At which point, we filter through HBO, Prime, or Netflix, and if nothing on those services appeal to our interest, we watch Big Bang Theory.

Luckily, we have not faced that roadblock since it is football season. This past Sunday night football, we had a few friends over, and extended the invitation to a few friends of a friend.

At the end of the night, one of the extended friends, who is 23 years old, was like you guys don’t have any kids? (A : Uhm, I think you would’ve seen them if we did) ..oh… cuz you guys are like.. parent-y.

I don’t think he meant it in a negative way, or at least I certainly didn’t take it that way. The only reasons I can think of why he said it was maybe because a. we’re a whole decade older than him or b. we’re good hosts and fed him.

Whatever the reason, in my head – I was like, parent-y? when did that happen? Especially since I myself don’t think I have the maturity of a parent, let alone an adult. Maybe if I showed him my adult coloring book collection, or the hello kitty socks that I have in my drawer, he would think otherwise.

Or not.

Earlier that evening, a commercial came on for The Voice.

23 year old :  I don’t even know who the black chick is.

Me: That’s Jennifer Hudson… she was on American Idle

::Blank stare::

I have accepted that this will happen more and more the older that I get: having to explain pop culture and events of yesteryear that will be met with blank stares. I am anticipating that the day when I have to explain who NSync and the BackStreet Boys are will come fairly soon. It will be a day that will hurt my heart, but one which I will gladly take the time to explain the cultural phenom that was.

It makes me think about how my teachers in high school tried to explain world events that they lived through – like the Berlin Wall coming down. Or how my mom’s face would light up whenever she saw Donny Osmond on tv , and how I myself met them with stares of yea, I know you’ve lived through this, and I can see you feel a certain way, but I can’t exactly share your emotion. 

Ehh, it is what it is. It’s all a part of getting older… and becoming parent-y .. I suppose.

Until next time…


Entry 43: Becoming Older… and Apparently More Parent-y

Entry 27: Getting a Job

Earlier today, a recruiter called saying he had an opportunity that he thought would be good for me

When’s the earliest you can start? 

The question made me anxious, mainly because making snap decisions is against my nature. I like to brew on things, look at things from all angles and possibilities before making a decision. While in some instances this can be good,  it tends to over complicate things that don’t necessarily need to be over complicated. Like, do I want chocolate or vanilla ? I don’t know. It depends, is there a possibility that the chocolate could potentially get on what I am wearing? or get on my face? There’s so many factors!

So when posed with the question of when I could start, in my head I was like,ahhh I don’t know! I have to think about this. This is a lot right now! 

Instead, I heard myself say “Monday.”

After I hung up, I felt a little uneasy about it. I didn’t feel uneasy about the idea of getting a job, per se, but the fact that the idea didn’t really get a chance to settle within me.  There’s so much to brew on when going through life-changing things. Like the fact that I’ll have to do my workouts after work, and that I have to be more efficient with everything I do because I won’t have the opportunity to take my time doing things or take a nap.

It’s funny though, how whenever I’m working, I don’t want to work, and when I don’t work, the idea of working seems all the more appealing. If only there was a job where I could just get paid for doing something that would allow me to take naps whenever I wanted.

Anyways, I’m probably over-complicating it all. Everyone has to deal with juggling life, and while I have been fortunate to have not had to work these past few months, it’s something that I’ll have to figure out. On the plus side, maybe now I can go ahead and just get my instant pot that I’ve been wanting for months now.

Until next time….

Entry 27: Getting a Job

Entry 26: Going to Confession

Have you ever found yourself making deals with God/Jesus?

 I used to do it a lot in my younger years

Please Jesus, if I get an A on this test – I will give the next homeless person I see $10. 


God, if you please let this happen, I will promise to go to church 50 times in a row

A majority of my prayers revolved around grades and boys, issues detrimentally important to the teenage me.  However,I came to the realization that asking God to fix my grades and boy problems was kind of ridiculous in the grand scheme of life.  Why would God care about why ‘Steve’ didn’t say hi to me when I passed by his locker?  or help me get a 4.0 in everything,  when there were kids dying in Africa? The older I got, these negotiating prayers occurred less and less.

Last week, I found myself bargaining with God for the first time in a long while. It had been a rough week, one that I promised God if this gets better, I will go to confession. 

I won’t go into details of how or why it was rough, but by Saturday – it did get better and I found myself faced with the question of whether or not I should actually go through  with what I had promised. Technically only God knew I made the promise, and he was forgiving of everything… so that meant I didn’t have to go right?

The truth is, I don’t particularly like confession. It’s kind of like going into detention, but not. Instead if a pruc to a priest, the one person you’re supposed to put your halo on whenever your see them.

I ended up going, and while I was at first anxious and scared, it was a liberating experience, as it always is during the handful of times that I had done it.

It did leave me with a few thoughts: why are old people the only ones who usually go to confession? Is it because they’re nearing the end of their life and they think oh shit, I need to be as sin-free as possible before I die ? I suppose those who don’t see the end of life in sight, don’t have that same sense of urgency. Or perhaps the importance of religion and going to confession has faded. I don’t know.

What I do know is that confession has always been something I feared, in part because I tend to avoid facing and coming to to terms with my imperfection.





Entry 26: Going to Confession

Entry 25: Valentines Day

In light of Valentines Day, I got this email with the following subject line:

Have you gotten your sexy Valentines Day Lingerie yet?!?

Normally,  I send Victoria Secret emails to the trash, and this one ultimately was dragged and dropped into that folder, but for a brief moment, I panicked.

Oh shit! What do I do??!!


After I opened up that email and clicked on a few camisoles and chemises, I came to the realization that this panic I was feeling was exactly what the marketing strategists at Victoria Secret was wanting me to do. They got to me during a moment of weakness.

Ahh Hell nah!

I try not to get caught up in the whole “Valentines Day” ordeal.  I’ll get Husband chocolate (because really, I’m the one who wants to eat them) and a card (because I like cards). One time I got Husband a katana sword, but really it was just an excuse to get a katana sword. We had been binge watching Walking Dead at the time and after we got through season 2, it became clear that was imperative we got a katana sword. For the zombie apocalypse.


Another time Husband got me the same card he got me 2 years before.

“Isn’t this the same card you got me a few years back?”

I looked in my box of cards and found the exact same Valentines card  with two puppies cuddling together from 2013 and I laughed.

So you can see how seriously we take Valentines Day.

While I personally think Valentines Day is a big jumbo wambo for these companies to make money off of everyone,  that doesn’t mean you have to believe what I think. Go! Get your sexy underwear specifically for this day designated for love, seduce your significant other, and eat all the chocolate covered strawberries you want! I’m not going to stop you, because I can’t.

But I will leave with one piece of advice: make sure you let your significant other know you love them on other days besides Valentines Day. Give your girlfriend flowers on a random day to let them know you were thinking about them. Ladies, seduce your man on a Thursday, or Friday in March. It’s great that Valentines Day is there to remind us how great love is, but it doesn’t have to be just for that one day. Really, it should be everyday, because love, loving, being loved is awesome.

Until next time….

Entry 25: Valentines Day

Entry 24: Trashy Romance Novels, My Guilty Pleasure

The first time I read a book that had a suggestive sexual scene in it, I was 10. The book was Waiting to Exhale.  My face was like


In retrospect (now that I’ve been exposed to worse things), the contents of the book werent that bad in the grand scale of risque-ness, but my 10 year old self, innocent of the world, had no prior exposure to anything of that sort, so you can of course imagine my shock.

My parents really didn’t put much of a filter on anything when it came to music, television, or books; they probably didnt think they needed to. I was a star student, had perfect handwriting, got As in stuff like participation, and never talked back.

So at a young age, I watched shows with bad language, listened to music that was sexually suggestive, saw movies with people shooting each other up , and other things some parents (maybe even myself) probably wouldnt let their own children watch or listen to. The effects of the exposure to such vulgarities at such a young age may still yet be waiting to emerge.

There was a few times when my mom layed down the law.  One time, I was watching Saved by the Bell and during a particular episode, Zach and Kelly kissed. From the background, I heard my mom yell You need to turn that off! What kind of stupid show are you watching? In my head I was like, Really mom? This isnt even bad. I listen to rap music and movies I probably shouldn’t see with suggestive sex scenes  but you don’t want me to watch Saved by the Bell?

I looked at my mom and she gave me the Filipino mom look, the one that glared at you in silence, envoking the fear God and fear of her. I switched the tv channel. Even though my mom was a petite asian woman, she was not someone you messed with.

With books, you really don’t expect a 10 year old to read anything other than Harry Potter or Little House on the Prairie.  Granted, I read those and a lot of other books, but at 10, I  remember being in love with everything to do Whitney Houston. And so, upon seeing a book based on a movie that my idol was in available at the local library, I went ahead and borrowed it.

It took me a day to read it (I was a fast reader) and I remember not quite getting what it was about (these ladies were having midlife crises? my 10 year old self could not relate to midlife crises’) but at the same time, getting that it was probably something that I shouldn’t be reading. I read huddled in the corner of my bed, quickly trying to hide the cover of the book whenever my mom walked in, lest she might inquire what it was I was reading, take it from me, and then I would be in trouble.  I was probably more paranoid than I needed to be as the cover was just of Whitney Houston and some other black ladies laughing.


Or not, my mom could very been like, Why does the book you’re reading have middle aged women on it? 

But anyways that was my first mature adult book. I didn’t pick up another adult book til I was in college, but since college, romance novels, have become my guilty pleasure. Specifically those romances that are of the historical romance genre. You’ve probably seen them,  the books with titles like Taming of the Duke or Pleasuring a Duchess . Typically the covers have damsels that have their dress about to fall to the ground, whilst having a countenance that says omg, what’s going on?  I have all these feelings I don’t quite understand or how to act upon, but I want to. Meanwhile a buff ass Scottish Laird or English Lord stands in the background with his shirt off, about to ravish her, but he doesn’t and you can tell by his eyes that it’s taking all of his God-given willpower not touch her boobs in order to keep her innocence in tack.

I love these books, and yet, I’m so embarrassed that I love them.   Most times, I’ll read them on my ipad (Thank God for E-readers), but lately I’ve been going to the library to pick books up since they’re free. I know, my mind is capable of being far more intellectual, so I’ve tried to make it a rule that for every 1 or 2 trashy romance novel I get, I pick up a smart book to stimulate my mind- like The Odyssey or Grapes of Wrath.

Maybe I am so self-consumed in thinking that random people who are sitting next to me on a bus or plane are paying attention me and care what I read. But to be honest, pay attention to what people read. (I also like to pay attention to what people have in the shopping carts while I’m waiting at the checkout. I find it interesting what people buy, especially at Costco. I’m always like… wow, that’s a lot of asparagas. or thats a lot of ensure product)  Whenever I see people reading 50 Shades of Grey on the bus with their faces 5 inches away from the book,  I can’t help but think, This lady is on a bus, probably reading a sex scene and is probably having these feelings… on a bus. 

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about  what reading romance books tells about me and what it does to my psyche: does it set up expectations or want for me to be ravished or loved a certain way? Does it reveal that I have a longing for something or feel like something is missing in my life?  I don’t think I want to be like locked in a castle or locked up at all, but do somehow  feel I have this inner desire to be a modern day damsel in distress needing to be saved and taken care of because of what I tend to saturate my brain in romance books? Maybe. Something for me to ponder about, I guess.


Entry 24: Trashy Romance Novels, My Guilty Pleasure