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Relate and Resonate

"I told her I was lost in this world,
and she smiled,
because she was too,
we were all lost somehow,
but we didn't care, we had, in the chaos,
found each other."
- Atticus
"Don't give up now,
chances are
your best kiss
your hardest laugh
and your greatest day
are still yet to come."
- Atticus 
"Self-love is so important; I don't want to be in my elderly years, flicking through old pictures of myself and at the last moment realising how beautiful I truly was."
- Meggan Roxanne
"Give people time. Give people space. Don't beg anyone to stay. Let them roam. What's meant for you will always be yours."
- Reyna Biddy
"Your relationship with yourself sets the tone for every other relationship you have."
- TheGoodQuote

Vulnerable

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Vulnerable. A word that I rarely ever used, especially to describe my state of mind or being, prior to my current job. One of the main things we do is teach and help leaders develop the eight characteristics of greatness, and vulnerability is one.

In years prior, I had periodically seen and characterized myself as "a sensitive soul". Nonetheless, I would hide it behind the jokes and the laughter. It was really only when I watched sad scenes in movies or shows that I showed my sensitive side. Or when I would occasionally get upset about something that someone said about me.

But in the past year of learning about the world and learning about myself (not mutually exclusive), I've realized that it's okay to be vulnerable and to show vulnerability. It's hard, especially when we grow up being told to not show vulnerability, which is a sign of weakness, and that we might be stepped on by doing so...among other things. I don't know how it works for our clients or for…

Joke

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Sherry: "I've typed it so many times, but I still don't know how to spell 'Hors d'Oeuvres.'" Me: "It's spelled a-p-p-e-t-i-z-e-r."

I Feel Ya, Ma

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This week, Ace disappointed me for the fourth time in the four months I have had him. The first three months were a perfectly--and surprisingly--smooth ride. And then I guess he started to grow up, and not only got comfortable, but also learned to take things for granted.

The first time was several weeks ago, when I had been in a rush to get out of the apartment, and I snapped at him right before I left. While I was away for an hour, I felt unreasonably guilty, so I was already planning to give him a small piece of rotisserie chicken as a treat--or an apology--upon return. After going up and down the stairs with several loads of Costco merchandise, I walked into the kitchen, and saw a huge mess on the floor. He had jumped and somehow gotten the tied-up bag of food-trash out of the sink, and ate nearly all of its contents: half-eaten tortillas (because I don't eat tacos properly, so they say), saucy Styrofoam containers, browned banana peels... There was a myriad of things that I&…

Taste of Empowerment

The first time I ever felt empowered was the second day of sixth grade. On the first day, my mom had taken her morning off work to drive me to school, from Chinatown to Northridge, in order to give me my insulin injections for breakfast and lunch, and to make sure the school nurse knew everything she needed to about me. Nurse Sue was astonished that my mom had gone to such an extent to take care of me. "Astonished" might be too nice of a word--I think she was shocked, and perhaps even abhorred. I was in sixth grade now, and I had never given myself an injection, despite having had T1D for 10 years now?! Now that I think back on it, I myself am ashamed.

The second day of school, my mom did the same thing--she took the morning off work and drove another almost 40 miles to school. Again, she waited in the nurse's office while I had my morning classes, and when lunch time rolled around, I entered the nurse's office wondering how we would ever resolve this major inconveni…

A Day Off

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Last Friday, I found out during our team meeting that our office would be closed the following Monday and Tuesday (i.e. yesterday and today) for Rosh Hashana. My immediate reaction was panic mixed with a bit of pleasant-surprise-shock--because who wouldn't welcome a day--much less TWO days--off? But I was panicked because I didn't know what to do with myself. I had plans for Saturday until mid-afternoon, and then I had three blank days ahead. Three blank days! "What do I do with myself?!" I crazily asked myself aloud and silently on repeat. I spent the rest of Friday contemplating plans and trips that I could execute in solitude, half-settling on driving up to Norcal to visit some friends. Alas, Saturday rolled around, and I did everything I had planned to do, in addition to a mid-afternoon impromptu shopping trip with my mom. I also ended up staying in Lincoln Heights, given that I had no real reason (i.e. plan) to go back to my apartment, and had lunch and went gro…

Nomadic

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Before moving into our apartment in PDR in March, M and I had planned to split our time between our houses in OC and LA and commute to work from wherever we were any given day. But that never really happened, because right after that decision, we found this apartment. And frankly, I'm kind of glad it hadn't happened, because I do not enjoy any commute that involves the 405, the 110, or the 10.

Weird, though, because in the past month, I have noticed how nomadic our lifestyle is, despite having "found our own place." Almost every Friday, we'd pack our duffle bags and get into the car early afternoon before rush hour or late evening after rush hour to go somewhere--his parents' house, my parents' house, Sacramento, Joshua Tree, somewhere random. And when we came back on Sunday night, we'd exhaustedly toss our duffle bags onto the living room floor, putting off unpacking for a couple of days--only to have to repack on that very Friday. At some point, we …