Decision Point

I have shown my cards
I don’t fit in.
One thing I know for sure
I am at a decision point.
Is this the way it will always be?

I refuse to be typical.
I refuse to lower my standards.
I refuse to abandon my committment to purpose,
And simply go through the motions.

I have been told I am too optimistic, too idealistic
That is ok.
Optimism is what fuels my passion
And gives me what I need to believe
That I can change the world.
Now, I just have find others that want to do the same

It is official.
I am at a decision point.

Why I Write

I have tried to resist, but have officially surrendered. This is why I write.

I write for Christina, who was dedicated to words,
I write to help others understand me.

I write to offer a different perspective on things,
I write in search of serenity.

I write because I admire the wit of others, and now have courage to share my own.
I write because it shows the world truly who I am, a passionate and creative soul.

Not Prepared for Homecoming

Prior to my departure, every minute was devoted to preparing for “The Trip”. I intently studied maps, diligently prepped my tongue (and stomach) for the cuisine, and reluctantly made visits to the health department. I was prepared.

After 20+ hours of travel, I finally touched down. The air was hot, the airport outdated and deserted. I thought to myself, remember the advice you were given, “Do not step foot outside the airport. Once you do, you will be entering the Sea of Beggars, and there is no going back…”

Going through customs was fine. Baggage claim was a pain. After what seemed like an eternity, I grabbed my Kelty backpack, and went into the dingy bathroom. I hid my passport and money in my bra, and from there, I advanced to the Sea Of Beggars; prepared.

Despite having an uninvted guest the first night (a cockroach the size of a small dog), the rest of my trip was great! I drank lots of San Miguel beer (the water is unsafe you know), ate various unknown meats from street vendors, and took jeepney trips on washed out roads though the hills of Benguet. “When in Rome, do as the Romans”, and that is exactly what I did. The trip was life changing and unforgettable for many reasons. I had thoroughly prepared myself for everything, there were no surprises. It was perfect.

Then…I returned to the US. Honolulu Hawaii. I boarded a bus, sat down, and was immediately reprimanded for not paying my fare upon entrance. Then, when crossing the street, was told, you could be ticketed for crossing the street when the red hand is flashing…remember?”.

This is when I realized, I was not prepared for my homecoming. I did everything possible to ensure I had a great trip…but never realized that I might actually have culture shock when I returned home. Interesting huh? Maybe the Lonely Planet needs to add a chapter…


While watching the Golden Globes, and messing around on my iPad, I swiftly touched the “Notes” app so I could add another movie to my “Must Watch List”.

That’s right, a list of movies to watch…saved on my iPad.

My closest friends and family know that I love the feel of a good magazine cover (that one is for you Rev Jo Jo). I love having shelves filled with books that have perfectly in tact binds, despite having been read. And…for the last 15 years, I have maintained a beautiful, burgundy paisley covered address book. So, with some hesitation, I have a confession. I have converted.

Address books, magazines, newspapers…they are all artifacts of my previous life. Now, everything I do is electronic. I never thought it would happen, but it has. I have converted.

The little tablet called the iPad, is revolutionary. It’s creators are shear genius. I can’t imagine even dreaming something this cool, let alone, making it come to life. I am up to date on EVERYTHING going on in the world, thanks to my NPR, CNN, and NY Times apps. And now, I am multi-tasking like no other. Sending emails, posting updates to fb, and checking the balance of my checking account. I am organized…for real.

So, to my brothers and sisters of the Church of Paper and Books “c’mon in boys (and girls), the water is fine”.

A Different Kind of Obligation

I gaze at my daughter while she sleeps. Marveling at the rosiness of her cheeks, and the peace that surrounds her. All I can do is smile. Smile in amazement. I created, and brought this perfect little human to our world. Smile because she is so pure and innocent. And smile because of the infinite number of options and experiences she will have. And this is when I realize, I now have a different kind of obligation.

I have always wanted to be a good daughter, a good employee, and a good citizen – making positive contributions to my community, but now, things are different. It is my obligation to be a well rounded woman and mother. Teaching my daughter how to cook a “to die for” pot roast, while also being able to give a presentation at a board meeting. It is my obligation to ensure that she knows she can be and do anything that her heart desires.

In my life, I have never felt any limitations. The sky has always been the limit. Nurture or nature? I am not really sure, but now I am obligated to make sure she feels the same.

16 days…

And still, I am in my creative space. Committed to not being obsessed with perfection, I write and type…and suddenly talking seems overrated

Today I was an anthropologist on a first date.

Today I had an identity crisis. Juror or anthropologist? Juror or anthropologist? Apparently the docket was uneventful, so Margaret Mead it was…

I found a great seat, allowing me to observe the entire room. All the usual suspects were present – the comedian, the knitting granny, the disgruntled redneck, the cute young girl (constantly applying lip gloss) the Blackberry fiend, the chronic cougher (thank goodness I wasn’t sitting next to him) the immigrant, and of course, the soduku / crossword master.

As time went on, people succumed to discomfort and solitude. There was squirming, half smiles, and in some cases, even an attempt at breaking the ice without getting too personal. Anonymity is very important you know.

Today was like a first date – awkward, but intriguing. I’m secretly hoping for a second date. Maybe I will even be able to fulfill my civic duty…

So, what’s in a name? A lot actually :)

The Rambling Lily…huh?

Rambling, for the obvious reasons…that is what I will be doing on this blog :).  I hope that my writing evolves into something that resembles strands of thoughts linked together by some type of logic, but hey, I’m not searching for perfection, just spending time doing something I like.

Lily, because it is a dainty little flower just like me. It represents happiness, is a product of the earth, and is the flower for my birth month – May. I have always liked the name Lilly…

I am officially writing…

Based on a gut feel to “get more creative”, as well as a sign from the stars, I now am blogging…