My Goodbyes via Email

Hi Andelita. This is going to be my last official email! I know you're happy! Lol. I just wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed "working" with you. No, really I did! If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have stayed as long as I did. You really made it fun working here even though I did most of the work! Pinch-eeeeeeee-weeeeee. I know we are going to be best of friends after here, but I can't help but feel sad that you won't be able to squeeze my love handles on a daily basis. hahahaha! No more PRC. No more Dolores Mission. No more H&M! Hahaha. You have my friendship no matter what and you know it. Take care and U.D.L.M.!

You know I had to send one last email, Genaro! You should know how much I love emailing (even though you never, ever respond)! Good luck, mini-Me! Hahaha! I'm so glad I was wrong about you! You ARE a sweetheart! Lol! I swear, I thought we were going to butt heads at first cuz you were such a smartie and you know only one brain can fit here and that was ME. But luckily, I realized that under such a tough exterior you are just a kind-hearted (but direct) darlin' and I am going to miss your lil' plants! J/K You too! haha. Take care, Bjork-A.


JAIMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can't believe this is my last email to you! Thank you for giving the opportunity to venture out and get my feet wet here at AltaMed. I know that even after here, you and I will always be friends. We've sure been through a lot, huh? First at AHF then here and who knows where else in the world?! I'm so sorry I didn't get to bug you one last time as an "AltaMed employee," but you know where I'll be. So, I'll bug you there.

Take care of yourself. And know, no matter what you mean a lot to me dear friend

Hi Jesse,

This is my official "goodbye." Jesse, you're the one that I feel most sad about leaving behind here at AltaMed since well, I did DO everything you wanted. Hahahaha! Seriously, I stayed as long as I did for a special few but I just felt I needed to move on. I wanted to do something else cuz any longer, I'd just burn out. And we all know how great a mood I can be in when I'm burnt out. I will always be here for you no matter what (even though I know you're rolling your eyes right now). I'm not being cheesy. You are a wonderful friend and even through the drama, the best thing out of it is the fact that we became friends. So, don't be a hater! You know how to find me so don't be one of those fake people I can't stand that are just my "friends" because we work for the same agency. I'm testing you (stop rolling your eyes)! I'll miss you. I do already.

Hi Mariano,

I just wanted to send my final farewell. I know it's been challenging here, but keep your head up. Your dedication to your clients has always been your priority and I admire your strength to stand up for what you believe in. Don't let anyone pull you down just make sure no one steps on your toes either! Take care, dear and I know we'll be seeing each other again.

Hey Kathy, I just wanted to take the time to send out an official "goodbye." I know we didn't get to work together too much, but it was still nice to see strong women taking charge the way we do! So keep it up! I've always felt that your passion to represent women and the need to skew more services targeting women was admirable. Take care of yourself and you know, I'll be seeing you soon!

Hey Susie, I just wanted to say goodbye. And thank you for my lovely cd. And thank you for being so sweet to me. And thank you for always making me feel beautiful, loved, and special. Good luck and take deep breaths because you're gonna need it here! Lol. Take care of you and please, don't be a stranger. I'm not just saying that either!

Hey Carlos,

I figured it's my last day so why not spend it doing what I do best: email. I'm sending the people I will miss most a "goodbye" email so you happen to be one of those people! I know you feel special. I know you've been quite a handful last year and through your antics (only I could tolerate), I know that a shy boy lurks within. So, shy boy enjoy your "present." And no, it's not for your many ladies so don't take advantage! hahaha! Seriously, you really surprised me with Betty Boop today and I really appreciate it. After all this time, you really do have a heart. Awwww.... Ok, that's enough. Take care and don't f*$k up!

Hi Connie,

I had to say goodbye via email. It's just the "Myrnelle" way! I know you'll follow in my footsteps cuz it's the best path to take! Haha! I have no worries that you'll take care of things from this point on. I have no worries that you'll succeed in life. I have every faith in you to carry on my duties here at AltaMed since you're probably the only one that really understood what I taught you! Hahaha! The guys would probably agree since they never listened to me anyway! It was so wonderful working with you, Connie. So don't forget me! You better My Space me, call me, keep in touch. You better!

Hey Joaquin,

I know we just met, but out of everyone you've been the one most "impacted" by me leaving! lol. It's sweet. Thank you for being so willing to learn from me and so attentive to getting things done. I know you and Connie will take care of things from here, but please don't be a stranger. You got me on My Space so it's on now! Lol. Keep striving for your goals and you'll never fail. I know it's cheesy, but I live by it. Take care!



With love, Myr-Myr

Farewell AltaMed

Saying "goodbye" is always a struggle for me and though I worked in several places, juggling numerous duties at one time, it saddens me knowing that soon it will all come to an end. It doesn't take long to adjust to a new surrounding filled with unfamiliar faces. Soon...it becomes routine. I know where I'm going, what I'm doing, placing a name to a face as I move along. I start making friends and building a bond that hopefully will last no matter where I am in the world.

Here at AltaMed on my last day, I remember my first day: Halloween 2006.

It was an interesting experience to say the least, meeting everyone dressed in costumes: a pirate, a nun, a devil, and of course a lioness just to name a few. A different language, an unknown environment, and I'm playing the outcast. The only one without a costume and I'm the one who stuck out the most. How will I ever fit in?

I had no keys, no parking permit, no pass, no access to even email and there I was with only a badge to show that, "Yes, I am an employee."

I was stationed at a clinic that cared for predominantly Spanish-speaking patients, stuck in a closet-sized office with below-freezing temperatures. Since I couldn't speak an inkling of Spanish (but apparently I look like I'm Latina), I felt useless. Too cold to sit still, I roamed the halls finding things to do. I took things with a grain of salt, knowing that I can't just give up because I feel uncomfortable. I had to roll with the punches and trust me, there were plenty.

As the weeks and months rolled by, I started thinking, "If I can't work with what I've got then why not change what doesn't work?" So, that's exactly what I did. I started cleaning house and writing protocols so that any future newbies won't feel as lost as I was.

Finally, at the beginning of the new year they moved me to a new location: Indiana (an old school house made entirely out of brick). Although the possibility of it being haunted was a little eerie, it had a warmer feel to it. I had a cubicle to call my own, and after a quick paint job and a few little add-ons it became my "home away from home."

I have made wonderful friends along my journey and know in my heart that the one thing I will miss the most is seeing them every day.

I write this, excited about where I'm going next, what I'll be doing there, and who I'll be meeting. I write this, saddened by the fact that I'm leaving what at first intimidated me, and proud that I didn't quit before I started. I kept at it until there really was nothing more I needed to do. I will leave knowing I did my part.

Survey Says?

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Wow. This question again. Hmm…my dad told me that his ex-girlfriend (whom he dumped for my sexy mother) had this really lengthy name so he decided one day to chop it up and created "Myrnelle." It was supposed to be my older sister's name, but when she was born our aunt named her "Michelle" after her son Michael. Someone once told me it means "wonderful" in Hebrew. Although I haven't confirmed it yet, it's nice to believe.
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? I always cry. It's been an emotional whirlwind of a year, but it made me stop and realize that life's too much of a mess to breakdown all of the time.
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? Yup. I've been told that it looks like a blend of cursive and print. I'm a writer so it goes without saying.
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? I dunno bout you but "lunch meat" doesn't sound appealing. Doesn't it feel funky when a sandwich with more bread than meat and lots of mayo sticks to the roof of your mouth?!
5. DO YOU HAVE ANY KIDS? None of my own. But…I have lotsa boys! And 2 crazy girls, one who is so squishable and the other still can't quite pronounce the "R" in MyRnelle. Oh! And one is on the way!
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Hells ya! I'm one tough, reliable cookie!
7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? With the people in my life, one has to be prepared to take jokes and spit them back just the same. So, um…that would be a yes.
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Ya, but I think they're swollen.
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? WTF?! If I wanted to shit in my pants, I'd eat yellow curry. Haha!
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Don't have one. Stopped eating them cuz they never make me full. But…it wouldn't hurt to chew on a Rice Krispie marshmallow square.
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? Forget laces. I'm a slip-on kinda gal!
12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? DEFINITELY more mentally than physically. I only show my weaknesses to my loved ones, cuz they'll make me laugh it off.
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Tart frozen yogurt from Golden Spoon!
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Their facial expression.
15. RED OR PINK? BLUE
16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? NOTHING SATISFIES ME.
17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? MAMA
18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU? I hope people comment w/their answers.
19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Dark denim and brown slip-ons.
20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? A sausage biscuit from Jack in the Box. Mmmm...
21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? Phones ringing off the hook, but none of the calls are for me. Boring job.
22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Blue.
23. FAVORITE SMELLS? Freshly brewed coffee, daddy's spaghetti sauce, coconut/mango candles, fresh linen, eucalyptus massage oils...
24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? My baby sis, Bea.
25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? Of course! she's a sexy mamacita herself!
26. DO YOU LIKE USING COMPUTERS? Only for writing.
27. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? On TV, Lakers Basketball cuz it's the only one I can follow. Live, Dodgers/Angels baseball for the true experience.
28. HAIR COLOR? Brownish Gold. No, seriously just brown.
29. EYE COLOR? Dark, seductive brown. Lol.
30. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? Glasses. Just glasses.
31. FAVORITE FOOD? Daddy's sketti
32. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Neither. I hate scary movies cuz they make my imagination run wild, but happy endings are bullshit. So…I prefer a great story with good characterization. It's the storyteller in me.
33. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? A Dark Knight. Great film.
34. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? Burgundy.
35. SUMMER OR WINTER? WINTER.
36. HUGS OR KISSES? both cuz I deserve it all!
37. FAVORITE DESSERT? Golden Spoon!!
38. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? anyone who has nothing to do!
39. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Everyone
40. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING? Comic Book Tattoo! (a comic book inspired by Tori music).
41. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? MiniCoopers
42. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? Project Runway
43. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SOUND? my family's laughter
44. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Beatles cuz their lyrics are so singable!
45. WHAT IS THE FURTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? Philippines. 17 years ago. 17-hour trip is hard to forget. Hate planes. Hate planes. Hate planes.
46. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? i'd like to think it's writing, but no one wants to pay me!
47. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Manila, Philippines
48. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK? i know too much about my sisters so...surprise me
49. EVER FLOWN ON A PLANE? Unfortunately, yes.
50. WHERE WOULD YOU LOVE TO GO ? As cliche as it may be, Europe. And Ireland cuz all the great films with spectacular scenes took place there. Also, I would like to revisit Philippines since I didn't get to see much being that I was only 10 with a thousand relatives to meet.

Customer Service

Imagine if a client comes in to receive an HIV test from me and they are frantic and emotional. Pretend they know absolutely nothing about sexually transmitted diseases and want to get the right information. Now picture that I just had a rough day and just want to stop working and go home. If I put myself at the center of attention and forget that this client really needs my help, then the client will leave feeling worse than when they first walked in. With or without a test, they may still feel helpless and uninformed. I must keep in mind that this career path as an HIV Counselor is my choice. So what I choose to do reflects on the people I serve. Hence, this is why I expect the same attention when I am the client/customer. Unfortunately, this is not always the case.

Let me share with you a few examples of when people need to search for a new profession.

You just had your annual physical exam and felt everything went like clockwork. Same as last year and the year before until of course, you get a call. So there you are at home, rushing out the door when the phone rings. You miss the call, but the answering machine’s blaring out the following confidential information to a household of people, “This is so and so from the (fill in the blank) clinic. (Your name) must call to schedule a (procedure you’ve never heard of) ASAP. It is very important. Thank you.”

Obviously, this alarms you so you call back expecting assistance, but instead you get, “Please hold.” Then wait, wait some more, (15-minutes pass) and the line goes dead. Hmmm… You call back, but before you could say anything the same representative states, “Please hold.” So what do you do? You hold. And hold…and hold some more. You hear a beep, assuming you got transferred to someone useful only to hear another beep and another unsuccessful transfer attempt to a generic voicemail. So you leave a voicemail and call back hoping to speak to a live person. Once you do, they get frustrated with you for even calling back, which ironically is what they asked you to do in the first place in the message, right? So you get the run-around and apparently nobody knows who called you and for that matter, what they were calling you about. In fact, none of the staff seem to know anything at all. So you think you made an appointment and finally get off the phone only to find out that the appointment was never scheduled and the procedure is still unknown.

Inhale. Exhale. So you go to a restaurant to unwind…

You decide to start off with dessert because after such a mess with the medical staff you want to treat yourself to something sweet. The place has a few people, but a manageable crowd to say the least. No waitress/waiter greets you so you wait (again) patiently. Finally after 10-minutes, one spots you in front of a bare table and figures you may need something. Without even a hello, they pull out their pad of paper and say, “Well?” So you order your slice of cake, coffee and water. They respond, “That’s all?” Hmmm… 10-minutes later, they come back with luke-warm water and cold coffee. 10-minutes pass and finally your pastry arrives with the bill. Imagine you were hungry and wanted to order more, but you can’t now because you’re apparently done. So you wait to see if at least you could get a fresh cup of coffee or at least some cream. After forever, you give up and get up to find the manager who happens to be on the phone and only cares to ring you up. You tell them that you are upset over the service or lack thereof from your waitress. They respond, “Well next time tell your server.”

There will be NO next time.

Now just to end your horrific customer service week you decide to call two call centers conveniently located in India and in the Philippines. You can’t understand them. They don't understand you. Both situations lead you to escalate the call to a supervisor. Both supervisors state 3 things like a broken record:
1. I’m sorry.
2. I don’t believe you.
3. I can’t help you.

I am what most would call a “Customer from Hell.” Meaning, I often get my way. Why? Well, why not? I have been on the other end before dealing with people’s problems on a daily basis, trying my best to accommodate their requests no matter how ridiculous. I have been through several jobs in which customer service was the main priority, following the infamous policy, “The Customer is ALWAYS right.” Reversing fees here, offering free incentives there, and taking insult after insult so they could vent out their frustrations on a company I simply work for and don’t necessarily agree with or even like. Why? Because they can and because that was what I was paid to do. Lucky me. From retail to call centers, I have been through it all. So when the tables are turned and it is my turn to receive service, guess what I expect? Yes, I am sympathetic to the people on the other end that must do what it takes to please me…But no, I do not care as to what lengths they have to go through because that is their job. I wish others would remind themselves everyday why they do the job they do and how what they do effects the people they care for no matter how minuscule the task.

The lesson learned is to keep your sanity and do the following:
1. Don’t forget to breathe.
2. Don’t forget you are the customer.
3. Don’t forget to get your way.

Last Request

“I'm in pain,” she whispers underneath a mask of steam.

It hurts to open her eyes, but she could see just enough to make out a few people standing around her, their rosaries dangling from their fingertips. It hurts to listen, but she could hear the soft mumbling of prayers and sobs. She feels a hand touch her forehead as another graces her arm. Cold and shaky, but she does not have the energy to warm and comfort them. She is slowly forgetting how to breathe, entering the final stages of an illness she never saw coming.

“I’m tired,” she utters behind a light-blue, plastic cover full of oxygen.

She lies still, curled up in a tiny ball of fatigue. Moving her mouth as if to say something, but yet nothing comes out, not even air. She sees the others move in closer as if to examine her like some caged creature being studied under a microscope. Different faces approach her. Some sad, with flushed cheeks and eyes flooded with tears. Others hide their sadness behind happy smiles and joyful tones.

One by one, they reintroduce themselves to her. Kissing her hand, rubbing their fingers through her hair, staring into her eyes hoping that somehow she will call out to them with some sort of recognition. Anything to show that she once knew what they meant to her. She nods politely, unable to match a name to a face. Few were fortunate to receive such satisfaction as a giggle, but many were left disappointed.

“How I wish I could do more for you,” she sighed as they turned their backs and walked away.

A man enters, dressed in a white coat with a clipboard in hand. The people surrounding her slowly walk towards him, anxiously waiting for what he has to say. As he speaks, more tears fall from the others’ eyes. It’s hard for her to make out too much of the details, but through bits and pieces she picks up the “Glory of Life” and “It is time.” Some cover their mouths and bow their heads in silence. The man pauses as if in need of a response, but no one manages to say a word. He takes a deep breath and continues.

“There isn’t much we can do,” he says solemnly.

She comes to realize the life he was referring to is her own. The time is her time and the people in the room are her family. They stand motionless, unable to accept the fact that she will never recover, that her health is quickly deteriorating. She could feel them pulling for something more, thinking the man’s words are only hypothetical and that there must be something else they could try, anything to keep her going just a little longer.

She looks at herself. Trapped in a hospital bed with paper-thin sheets wrapped around her, tubes jutting out from each side. All this technology and intricate equipment set to feed her, nourish her, and assist her breathing. Yet though it can keep her alive she knows it cannot live for her. Her body is weak. She cannot hug anyone back or hold anyone’s hand so tight and say, “Everything will be alright.” Her energy slowly drains away while her mind continues to draw a blank. She cannot create any more memories nor cherish the many she once held dear. She breathes through a mask and tube, her heart beats through a monitor, but she no longer wishes to live through a machine.

The eldest daughter sees her mother’s sunken face and bends down to hear her last request.

“I’m ready to go…” Ma said.

It Happened Last Night

I remember it as if it really did happen. After all, it was just another one of my dreams, but the interesting part was that no matter how many times I woke up from tossing and turning, I would fall back asleep and pick up where I left off.

The same place: a Paseo lined with rustic, orange-colored cobblestones that curled and connected to a variety of shops and cafes. A large fountain at the center bathed a statue of two cupids sitting on a cloud. One holding a bow and arrow and the other, a heart, eager to be its next target. Coins glistened at the bottom of the water.

"Wishes still waiting to be granted," I thought to myself.

I walked passed it. Letting the sun hit my face and feeling the warmth of its energy as I made my way through the crowd. I thought I saw my parents up ahead so I picked up the pace to catch up, suddenly realizing that they were walking towards me.

My mom was dressed in a pale, peach top and matching long skirt. Her black, high-heels clanked against the pathway with each step she made. My dad was not too far behind, wearing gray slacks and a long-sleeve, collared-shirt. As they approached the fountain, I knew something was very odd. My mom's hair was long and extremely curly with high bangs pinned half-way back. Not her usual cropped do that I'm used to seeing.

"Wow, that grew fast," I thought.

But then I saw my dad with a head full of hair that almost covered his eyes.

I gasped.

They were my parents alright, but a whole 20-years younger!

I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. There I was, a full grown adult, standing next to my parents of the same age.

A little girl with layers of thin black hair was holding my mom's hand. She was wearing a white, cotton dress and sandals. She looked up at me and smiled before running off into my dad's arms. He picked her up and placed her onto his shoulders. They continued passed me, down the walkway blending in with the sunlight and the crowd until I couldn't see them anymore.

I turned back around and took a few steps in the other direction when my sisters came up to me. It was a relief to see them at the age they are now.

"Hey Bub, where were you?" the youngest one asked as she pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail.

"We want to get some coffee and maybe a pastry or two," the oldest said, looking around with her hand over her eyes to block the sun.

"Oh, just walking around," I answered. "Gotta wash my hands first though..." I said as if what just happened never happened at all. "Where's the bathroom?" I asked.

"Oh geez...you know where it is," the youngest said rolling her eyes.

"But we don't go to that nasty one remember? They created a bigger, family bathroom. It's much prettier," the eldest continued.

As they both discussed their love for its interior design filled with comfy couches and decorative counter tops and tables, I found myself already there! And it was magnificent. Soft lighting, lovely paintings on the walls...I mean, for a bathroom it was a little over the top, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

Then suddenly an even stranger thing happened.

As I was washing my hands, a little boy probably about 7 or 8 years old, tugged at the edge of my shirt. I turned to face him. He had curly hair and almond-colored skin. He was wearing a red shirt and dark denim pants.

"Hey, almost done? Dad's waiting for you outside and told me to tell you to hurry please..." he said with a smile.

"Oops, kid made a mistake," I thought.

"Finish up. We'll meet you outside. K, mom?" he said as he ran out the door.

"What...what did he just call me..." I said to myself as I made my way to one of the couches, leaving the water running and my hands full of soapy bubbles.

Kids started to pour in with their moms or dads. Some even stared at me as they made their way to the sink.

After what felt like years, I finally got up and washed the dried soap off my hands and made my wait to the exit.

The little boy was standing next to an older boy with a buzzed cut.

"About time," they both said in unison. "Dad's in the sporting goods store like always," the eldest continued, pointing over to the right. "You coming inside?" he asked.

I suddenly realized that this was my life. My past, my present and my future. The fountain separated each time zone and as I made my way around it, I entered into a new world where everyone changed around me, yet somehow I managed to stay the same.

The question was, "Which direction was I going to take next?"

And even though I knew it was all in my head, I reacted as if it were the real thing. And I held onto those moments knowing that soon I would wake up for good.

Heart-Skip

With his cold stethescope against my chest he hears it, "Ga-gong, ga-gong, ga-gong." Puzzled, he turns to me and says, "Now I'll place this on your back and I'd like you to take two deep breaths every time I move it around."

"Ok...," I thought. But then suddenly, I realize something was up (and it's never a good thing at the doctor's office). "No one has ever taken this long before," I said to myself.

As he removed the earpierce passed his grayish-white hair he asked, "Has anyone ever told you, you had an irregular heartbeat?"

"Uh...no," I said confused.

He gets the stethescope, places it in my ears and tells me to listen closely for 15 seconds. One, one thousand. Two, one thousand. Three, one thousand...It felt like forever.

"Ga-gong, ga-gong, ga-gong...skip...ga-gong, ga-gong, ga-gong...skip," I heard. A slight shift in sound, but it was there and I was completely clueless to it ever being there this whole time. After all these doctors examined me and told me I was perfectly normal, this one took just a few more seconds of his time to tell me otherwise.

I left the clinic stunned at the thought of needing to get a second opinion. I figured I'll make the appointment, get my usual result, and put this all behind me. Well, until today.

I sat on the patient's table, impatiently. Crunching the tissue paper with every anxious move I make. The nurse comes in and checks my vital signs. She takes my wrist and says, "Ok, now for your pulse."

She starts her stop watch.

"Wait," she says. "This doesn't seem right," she continued.

She restarts her stop watch.

Her facial expression changes. She writes some notes on her hand. "Did you know you have an irregular pulse?" she asks casually.

"Ugh, stop it with the irregularities, what the fuck is wrong with me?!" I wanted to scream.
But all that came out was, "Uh...no."

She steps out and tells me to hang tight for the doctor. A petite, Asian woman enters. She seemed like she was in a rush until she checked my heartbeat. Once again, the same reaction. This was becoming a routine:

Step 1: Check.
Step 2: Wait.
Step 3: Look puzzled.
Step 4: Check again.
Step 5: Smile so patient doesn't panic.
Step 6: Ask, "Has anyone ever told you that you have an irregular heartbeat?"

Before I knew it, I was lying half-naked and exposed with ten little stickies on my chest.
"Well this is comfortable," I thought to myself as the technician hovered over me, looking more and more nervous as he untangled the attached electrical cords.

"Is everything ok for you?" he asked politely.

"Gee," I thought again.

"Uh, yup. This won't hurt will it?" I asked just to make conversation.

"Nah," he said as he pushed some buttons on the machine.

Fortunately, the results were normal. Unfortunately, that meant shit. It turns out that my heart may have actually found its lost beat during the commotion so the doctor requested some blood work to be done. Oh, and by the way this particular clinic I chose no longer does blood draws so they gave me a sheet of paper with at least twenty clinics to choose from (none of which I was at all familar with) and sent me on my way to draw a single tube of blood.

Meanwhile back at the lab, things were slow. Hmmm...

The nurse was sitting back in her recliner talking to one of her kids on her cellphone. It turns out he or she didn't do their homework. After a few minutes, she noticed I was there for her to do her job.

"My, what little veins you got there," she said cheerfully.

The funny, well not so funny, thing is that I draw blood for a living too. And it saddens me that now that the table's are turned, I get this.

So now I have a bruise on my left arm growing bigger each day and still no idea if my heartbeat is truly irregular.

Love to Hate, Hate to Love

I cherish the very few friends I have, but this in no way means that I will allow myself to be taken advantaged of. Even if it may seem at times that I choose to step down to see how far the person will walk over me. Maybe in some way I'm an emotional masochist. I love catching up even if at one point we were "enemies." What the hell does that mean anyway? Love to hate 'em, hate to love 'em. Well, in that case I have too many...

If you are still in my life, it is because you choose to be and I enjoy having you here. If you have not heard from me, it is because you stopped calling, texting, emailing, my-spacing... Or maybe lost track with your busy schedule. Or just simply forgot to say, "Hello." Please understand that I am not angry nor confused. And although I am saddened as to why this may have happened, I just do not care anymore to fight over petty things. I have always been easy to find. If you are wondering where I have been, it is because you have not taken the time to check in. You know where I am. I never left.

Happiness Isn't...

What Hurts More Than A Broken Heart?

A lost pet.

A friend's betrayal.

A terrible investment.

A life-altering accident.

An incurable illness.

Being a disappointment.

Failing when you really tried your best.

Losing your home in a single storm.

The death of someone that meant the world to you.

To Love Another

"The sexiest thing is trust..."communication and in any relationship, the ability to just relax and quit worrying about the little things. Everything makes so much sense on the outside looking in. Fixing someone else's problems seems so much easier than dealing with one's own. Sometimes I wish that I could step out of my shell and just let it all go.

And what is it really that gets me to overanalyze to such a degree? To question every bit of information? To act out just to see a reaction? To predict the worst case scenario? Paranoia? Maybe. Low self-confidence? Could be. Yet it's the fact that my instincts show what appears to be isn't always what it is and the intentions of another is not always quite so innocent. So I don't let things sit long enough to see what happens next. And unfortunately this can also be my downfall. Yes, this is dramatic, but I've been there, done that too many times to dismiss what bothers me to cater to the norm. It's unfair that the past comes back to haunt me and the present must piece me back together again.

But I'm learning that it's not anyone's problem, but my own that I need to fix for myself.

I write how I feel and if it's sad, it's because I'm sad. And rarely is it ever "perky" so there's no surprise when I take a few moments of my life to vent. I do appreciate anyone who takes any of their time away from their day to check in and read about me, but please know that I'm ok. I just like to share my emotions out loud (a lot).

Relationships are an obstacle course for me. I try to be as cautious as possible before taking the first steps. Then there's that word: "commitment." It isn't easy trusting someone just enough to let them (and only them) in. Obviously, it never works out as planned. No knight in shining armor. No white picket fence. No fairytale endings. Shit happens. Life happens. I'm selfish and want everything, but I don't believe in settling down to get it.

He is with me like I am with him because we love each other, not because we need each other.

Beautiful Collision

Hot tears. Dark room. Nothing, but the glow of my cell phone. 6:45am. Just a bad dream, but I couldn't shake it off so easily. I lay there for a moment recollecting my thoughts as the images ran through my head like a rapid wild fire hoping that the water pouring down my face would put out the flames.

But my mind wouldn't let me rest that easily either...

I stood in front of a toy store, staring at my reflection in the large display window. Wooden airplanes of all sorts of colors dangled above while a miniature train set spun in a circle beneath them. It seemed like a peaceful town, mid-day and kind of chilly. I wore a black raincoat and a pair of jeans and felt the soft fabric as I placed my hands in my pockets. A cool breeze, trailing a soft scent of fresh bread, brushed passed me.

He came out to greet me, tall and slender with a boyish grin. I smiled, ready to grab him with open arms. Until suddenly she followed closely behind him, her golden brown hair slightly covering her face.

"Hey, you ready?" she asked (as if my purpose for being there was to wait for them).

"Ummm...." I stalled not knowing what I should be ready for.

"You said you wanted to shop for presents, silly," she explained, pointing to the toy store.

"Uh, o-oh ok..." I stuttered, playing along.

She shook her head and giggled, turning to him. He bent down and said, "Love you," giving her a sweet kiss on the lips.

My heart stopped.

"That's my kiss," I said to myself. Confused, I turned the other direction and just walked away.

"Hey, where ya goin'?" she said.

I started to run.

They followed.

I saw a small cafe up ahead and made my way to the back patio. I turned to see if they were still behind me, but saw no one. I ordered a salad.

The waitress had her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She was chewing gum and seemed friendly as she spoke.

"Not very hungry, huh?" she asked.

"Not really, just had a craving." I responded, my voice a little shaky.

The salad came in a small, clear plate with dressing on the side.

"Sure that's all ya want, hon?" she asked politely.

But before I can answer her, I see them sitting side by side at a booth near the back entrance. I got up, holding my salad plate in my hands, and made my way to them.

"So I see you guys are comfortable," I said sarcastically.

They just looked up at me as if I was someone else.

"What in the hell has gotten into you?!" he demanded.

Without warning, I dumped my salad on his lap and sat down directly across from them, crossing my hands to prevent it from trembling.

"What the hell has gotten into me? You're supposed to be following me and instead you're sitting here!" I shot back.

"Why should we run all over the place trying to catch you when all we have to do is sit here and let you come to us? Either you'll be calm enough to talk or of course, the usual. You can throw your food at me...," he retorted, as he picked up some lettuce and plopped in on the table.

I slapped him hard across the face as she got up in shock.

"What the hell?!" she screamed.

"Don't you for one sec even think about it," I said, pointing at her.

He just sat there, unaffected.

"You need to calm down and tell us what's wrong?" she said.

I left not realizing I haven't paid for my meal. Halfway down the block, I decided to turn back.

"I already caused a scene, but the waitress didn't deserve that," I said to myself.

People were staring at me as I re-entered the restaurant. My waitress was at the cash register as he handed her a $20 bill. I yanked it from her hands and threw it to Ms. Golden Brown. It landed in her V-neck sweater.

"There goes your tip," I said.

The waitress swiped my card and commented, "Hey whatever happened to happily ever after?"

"It doesn't exist," we all said in unison.

As soon as we stepped out of the restaurant I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Who the hell are you with?" I demanded.

"What are you talking about?" he questioned. "We say we love each other all the time and you never had a problem with that before!" he continued.

"I don't care about that. That phrase gets used and abused all the time that it seems like nothing more than a casual hello these days," I explained.

"It's the KISS!" I yelled to the top of my lungs. People stopped in mid-chew and rushed out to see what the commotion was about.

"You kissed her the way you used to kiss me. It was so sweet and genuine that it even took her breath away! The way I once felt long ago..." I trailed off.

I could see from the corner of my eyes that she nodded in agreement, in shock that I even noticed the subtle change in her facial expression.

"Yes, it was." she said, blushing.

I cried.

Hot tears. Dark room. Nothing, but the glow of my cell phone. 6:45am.

Sweet Dreams

After 27 years of using whatever second-hand mattress thrown at me, I finally bought my very first real bed. No more squeaky springs and dents! No more sharp-edged, unreliable frames! No more backaches and heartaches! It is time to learn how happy people sleep. Goodnight.

Think Happy Thoughts

• When the alarm goes off and I realize I have nowhere to be but in bed.
  


• Smelling the fresh breeze after a rain storm.
  


• Cantaloupe shavings.
  


• Drinking ice cold water after a long, hot day.
  


• Eating ice cream at night.


• Listening to a song I haven't heard in a while.


• Sprinkling powder in-between my toes.


• Lemon loaf cake and a latte.


• Hot coffee in a ceramic mug.


• 1950's diners.


• Chocolate milkshakes.
  


• Finishing an impossible project.


• Parking my car in a shady spot.
  


• A raise.


• A smile.


• A thank you.


• A compliment.
  


• A hug.


• A kiss.


• An "I love you."

Loud Bang, Bright Light

Dream 05/11 -12/2007

I stood in front of a panel of judges. I had no idea what I was on trial for nor what I did wrong. Only that I was in a square room with wooden flooring, sitting on a single stool with a table and five chairs lined up directly in front of me.

An older woman with gray hair and glasses spoke first. "Well, so we meet again," she said calmly.

I scratched my head and squirmed around in my chair, surprised that it spun around.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, ma'am. I've never seen you before," I answered.

She smiled, looking at her peers. An African-American man with a short beard and thick eyebrows returned her gesture and looked over to me.

"We know you wouldn't remember us, but we know your story quite well..." he trailed off.

A younger Asian woman with a slick ponytail finished his sentence by saying, "What he means is you've been here before...in your dreams, but this time it's for real."

"Ok...you've managed to confuse me even more. I'm sorry. Where am I? What is this place?" I asked, trying to remain calm.

"Middle-ground," they replied.

It appears that right before you die, your spirit leaves its physical form to visit a place where it can decide your fate in the after-life. There are a few options to choose from, however at the time of your decision all you know is one thing: what your last senses will experience on Earth.

(1) Loud bang, bright light (sound and sight) - a thunderous boom followed by a white glare

(2) With the sweet, comes the sour (taste) - two different flavors you have never tried before

(3) Hurt (touch) - physical pain

The experience slowly came back to haunt me. The image was hazy, but I can make out a few little details. I was lying on a hospital bed, wearing a blue patient gown. A series of beeping noises hovered over me and I swore I could make out sobbing but from whom, I couldn't tell. A woman in a white suit placed her hand on my forehead and closed my eyes. Suddenly, a massive boom echoed throughout the room. My ears grew numb and the silence was overbearing. I carefully opened my eyes to see what was around me, but a stream of white light seeped into my eyelids and drowned out all the color.

And now I'm in this room where a panel of judges sit before me.

(To be continued...)

Deja Vu

It happened in my head and before I knew it, there I was. Nightmares do come true.

It was windy. The sun crept up just enough to show itself over his rooftop as I carefully made my way up his curved driveway. The loose pavement rustled underneath the soles of my shoes. He opened his door and stepped out, scratching the back of his head as if saying, “uh-oh not again.”

I just stared at him, brushing strands of hair away from my face so that he won’t miss my eyes. He knew something was up. He put both hands in his pockets as we met half way.

“Hey,” he said.

“How could you do this to me?” I asked in disbelief, a cold shiver sent chills up my spine.

“So this is it then,” he said, completely avoiding my question.

“Guess so,” I uttered.

I turned away and walked back to my car knowing in my heart it would be the last time I felt real love for him. I woke up quietly sobbing.

A month or so passed.

I was at work. An unsettling feeling hovered over me like a gray cloud ready to burst. I paid no attention to it at first, but for some reason I couldn’t shake it off no matter how hard I tried. It was lunchtime. I put my leftover Alfredo pasta in the microwave and as it spun, I dialed his number. Busy.

A minute went by. The food was hot. I dialed again. Busy. I lost my appetite. No word from him last night. No call that morning…Now busy. Someone else had his attention. I couldn’t take it. Dial the heart-wrenching “323.” Then there in the middle of the break room, as my pasta dried, I knew.

“Hello,” he muttered.

He knew it was me even before he finally answered my call.

“You did it again,” I said.

He sighed. I broke down in tears, grabbed my stuff and left. As I drove, sad songs blasting from my car, the sun began to set.

I parked in front of his wooden fence, stepped out and began to walk up.

Déjà vu.

Insomnia

It is half past 5am. The sun is still asleep and after having my eyes closed for several hours, you would think I would be asleep too. A new year has begun and it's about time I start facing my fears. The candle flickered just enough to cast dancing shadows to keep me company. And as I tossed and turned, I realized peace will be far from me tonight.

I used to have reoccurring nightmares of being lost in the woods or falling off a tall building or my ultimate favorite, chased by a killer in the dark. All of which share one thing in common: I'm utterly and completely alone.

Sometimes I would wake up unsure if I'm truly awake. I'd dig my nails into the palm of my hands and as the pain shot through my skin, I'd still think twice if my eyes were really open. I'd check around me.

Check to see if my boyfriend had a pulse. Clench tightly to my comforter to see if I could feel the feathers between the stitches. Then, through careful consideration, I'd slowly get up and let my barefeet grace the carpet before making my way to the door. I knew that if anything were hard to fake, it's the cold air seeping through the cracks, making their way in-between my toes.

Cold air.

My toes start to wiggle.

Sigh of relief.

Dream A Nightmare

Dreams are moments where we can do or say anything without suffering any consequences. A horror movie taught me that. I was ten when I first tried to control it and here's what happened.

FLY

I stand motionless. Stuck out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by high, sharp boulders. Creepy sounds and red eyes darted from every direction. I panic, slowly backing up against the rocks. Its surface feels smooth against my skin. I pinch myself. Nothing. No pain. "Shit, I must be dreaming and I can’t wake myself up," I muttered underneath my breath. I shake my head in disbelief. Then the sounds grew louder. The eyes came closer revealing their monstrous form. I shut my eyes and open them again. Still stuck. I fall backwards refusing to face it. I start to cry. Its hot breath penetrates the back of my neck. I scream and hear silence. My mouth is frozen. Then, almost as if I’ve done it before, I stretch my arms out, flap it up and down as fast as I could and begin to float. Higher and higher. And then I was safe.

ONE LOUD BANG

"Just shoot 'em in the head...one time...that's it," these words spoken by a stearn male voice echoed in my head as I stood there holding the gun. It felt cold against my hands. Sweat dripped down the sides of my face. I wiped it away with my shoulder. The target turned to face me. Startled, I try to steady my aim. I don't know which one of us looked more afraid. He was young with light, brown eyes and pale skin. His hands trembled in the air. "Please...," he stuttered. "Shut up, just shut up," I shouted, suprised at my own volume. My fingers began to swell. The metal numbed my skin. He got up slowly. "Stay still or I'll shoot," I said, calmly placing my index finger against the trigger. "You've never done this before," he muttered. "What," I asked. He moved in closer, the look of fear leaving him with every step he takes. "You've never done this before," he said clearly with a sly grin as if he was now holding the weapon at me. I didn't move then suddenly a loud bang woke up my nerves. He fell forwards.

POOR "PINATA"

His face, full of excitement, ran into the room to grab some attention. People poured out through the sliding, back door to get a glimpse. I stayed behind the protective glass. A green, clunky, run-down piece of junk jeep dangling from a rope balanced over a large staircase as he and his boys, beer can in hand, tried their best to kick it over without knocking it down. Sand and dust drizzled over the railing. The smell of burnt rubber against the concrete steps permeated the cool night air. Cheers from the crowd pumped up their egos as the rope continued to strangle the poor tree branch.

Scout

Let me share with you just what kind of tricks my mind plays on my heart. Once again, it happens most often when I sleep...

A pile of laundry sits next to the newly refinished bathtub complete with gold fixtures. Large, thick glass windows surround the beige, marble floors. With a touch of a single button, the lights dim while soothing music spills out of the hidden speakers in each corner of the room. Warm water slowly pours into the tub as I sink both feet in, pushing the bubbles with my toes. I pull the laundry closer to me and began folding a pair of khaki shorts as he enters the room.

I smile, but his face remains expressionless. "Hey," he said.

"Baby, jump in the water is just warming up," I say with enthusiasm.

"I'm not staying long," he says coldly, looking out the window.

"C'mon, it'll be fun," I said.

He looks at me, unamused with my excitement.

"No," he said bluntly.

I got up so quickly I almost slipped, grabbed a towel off the hanging rack and threw it on the ground.

While frantically patting my feet dry, I yell, "Why don't you ever just give in for once and do what I wanna do for a change?"

His eyes began to shrink. His lips slowly tightening up. I knew then his temper was about to flare up, but I couldn't control myself.

"Who the hell put a stick up your ass anyway?” I mumbled.

He ran over to me and kicked the clean clothes into the tub.

With a sly grin he said calmly, “Guess, they’re dirty again.”

I squat down, pulling the soaked shirts and pants out, tossing them over to his neatly placed khaki shorts.

“These are your clothes. You could wash them again your damn self,” I retorted.

He grabbed my arm and yanked me up to his level.

“Don’t tempt me,” he muttered through his grinding teeth.

I stared blankly into his beady, little eyes.

“I just did,” I said with no hesitation.

His tight grip briefly stopped my blood flow, leaving red marks on my arm as he finally let go. He stormed out of the house and into the front yard stretching his arms out from side to side as if surrendering him out of this torn relationship.

That’s when she walked over.

Even-tanned, brunette with itty-bitty white shorts and a baby black tee. I stayed behind the pillar.

“Hey,” she said flirtatiously.

“Hey,” he said back with a smile I haven’t seen in over six months.

He put his arms down and walked over to her.

“I’m trying to find my cat,” she said brushing her hair away from her perfect complexion.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said with genuine concern.

“What’s its name?” he asked.

“It’s a He and it’s ‘Scout,’ mine’s ‘L’…"she trailed off. (I couldn’t make it out.)

“Nice to meet you. Now let’s scout for ‘Scout,’” he giggled.

That’s how he has always been. So sweet to strangers, pretty ones at that. And there I stood behind the pillar watching how a ‘nobody’ ignited a side of him I used to see.

Aging Youth

I woke up in tears from this dream sadly realizing that it is becoming more of a reality.

The entire family is sitting in her living room. The very first place we truly called "home" in the United States. Serious faces, no laughter. Not like our usual get-togethers anymore. She sits calmly in a chair in the corner, small and frail, wrapped in a pink bathrobe. Almost in a daze, she looks up at the white ceiling and dozes off.

I just watch her, recalling the days in which she would boast about how strong she was and how powerful her memory continued to be. A religious woman who followed tradition as if it were the only way and now she sits, unable to move without assistance as her thoughts leave her one by one. I wonder why it is that the two things she prided herself on the most were being taken away from her like a spoiled brat torn from their favorite toy.

Her five daughters pay no attention to her. Her youngest son leads the discussion of what is to become of her as if it were some kind of business meeting. Almost all of them were ready to let her go. Having to discuss when and where they could arrange “watching” her. As adults, they act like children. Whining that a moment with their mother would interfere with their schedules and yet they find it surprising that she would not want to be anywhere else besides with her eldest son.

He leaves the circle and does what he does best, takes care of things that need to be taken care of: making sure she is still breathing. Her body helplessly plops down into his arms. He catches her in shock that this time no air entered her lungs. The others slowly stood up, hands covering their mouths. Fake tears start to form on their faces.

Then she starts to shrink. Her skin carefully smoothing out the wrinkles of age, her gray hair sheds revealing her regained youth. Nobody reacts. In a matter of minutes, there in the corner chair, on top of the pink bathrobe, lies a baby.

The daughters rejoice. Each one wants to take turns holding this beautiful, innocent child as if it were their own. The youngest son puts down his notepad and walks over.

Real life somehow found its way into these dead souls.

When at her worst, she is abandoned with the son she deemed as the “black sheep," the only one she remembers while the rest are just strangers in a strange place she used to call “home.”
They discarded her as an old woman as if in fear that this will become their fate with time, yet they embraced her youth as if the slightest touch could turn back the clock.

Her eldest son chose to face the facts as he quietly leaves the room, mourning the loss of their mother.

Age is inevitable.

I Am...

I am everything you thought I wasn't. I turn on/off like a light switch and have mood swings as fast as the weather changes in L.A. Pedicures are my stress relief, but I get them once in a blue moon. So, yes I'm still stressed. I love green vegetables, but hate peas and anything pea-like. Carrots are coming along thanks to my bestfriend, but very slowly so that's why I now wear glasses, which are unfortunatley tilted to the left and always being misplaced. I break out into hives when I drink, but I have a better time if I'm too buzzed to know I'm really bored. I read only non-fiction because if I wanted to picture something in my head, I'd go watch a movie instead. I hate all movies until they give me reason to love them, buy them, absorb them. I quote stuff because I can't say it any better and make-up words like "kaloo" "boohead" just to make it stick better than your average pet name. I miss my pet Cinnamon very much that it makes it harder everyday to look outside my bedroom window, which used to be Mama's room for the last 26 years...I wish Mama peace of mind since her family is falling apart like her memory. And the strength for us to find a way to get back together again. I love just being with my family because through it all they always find a way to make me laugh. My sisters know me better than I know myself. My mom can say all the wrong things at the right moments but can calm me down like water to a lit match. My dad takes care of things like that was his only purpose in life and it feels good to come home with dinner on the table and a dying candle's scent permeating the room. My LOML and I have come to a dramatic turn of events, yet he knows in his heart that I'm the one. And that alone is reason enough to get up, start over, do something, talk to a friend, write a blog, hug a loved one, text a joke, appreciate, live, love, and go to bed.