The struggle is real

I didn't think this would happen to me. Finally, I'm stressed to the point where I'd much rather start working at Chick-fil-A than sticking around to do this blasted homework. Sometimes I even feel like skipping Orchestra, but I know that it would kill my director, especially since right now we're preparing for our annual district assessment, so I don't.
I've also noticed that I'm dangerously close to crossing the threshold à l'ennui and apathy. I don't know how to quantify it, but I know I can only take in so much stress before I suddenly lose all sense of consequences and just blow off my responsibilities. It's the story of my entire high school life, frankly.

All that I've been looking forward to are the Heartsongs concerts in the first week of April and graduation; maybe prom and the IB exams. I'm not even concerned about Spring break anymore. That's going to sneak up behind me and make me forget about preparing for the exams in May. Even Orchestra is becoming bothersome with after school rehearsals- I actually can't wait until I'm out of high school and I'm not pressured or even motivated to join an orchestra. I don't need to play in large ensembles anymore. I'm sure I'll still stick around to violin, but not as much during the college days.

I need summer. I need the beach. Winter makes me so unhappy. I don't need more projects stacked on top of what I'm already doing. I just need to go sit at a Stravinsky concert and unwind. Actually more chillwave sounds like that'll hit the spot too.

Pope John Paul II

Pope John Paul II died when I was in the fourth grade. Benedict XVI has been the Pope for the past seven years of my life and his entire Papacy flew by way over the top of my head!

Tonight I watched Karol- A Man who Became Pope, expecting it to be a quick 1.5 hour long movie break. Nope.

The film was three hours worth of Nazi-Jew drama, revolutionaries, underground resistances, secret police searches, stingy Russians occupying Poland, cute actors (hello Piotr Adamczyk), heavy Eastern Romanticism, and inspiring love.

I cry a lot in movies. I cry a lot in a lot of movies. I'm sure I cried the most when I watched The Notebook, and I'm sure a lot of other girls will agree and understand how much crying that is seeing how popular of a love story it is. My experience with crying during films was reborn tonight watching Karol, though.

 The first 1.5 hours is World War II, and it covers everything that happened in Poland: invasion, diaspora, heartbreak, exterminations, and conversion. Each of these events in the film were so captivating and hovered over heavily romantic music by my favorite film composer, Ennio Morricone. The most powerful aspect of all of these is that the character of Karol Wojtyła always found a way to tie love into every cry for justice and abandon. How often do we watch World War II films and see a clear message of love in its purest, non-sexual form? Karol's priest friend hears a confession from a Nazi officer, who days later rebukes his superior and is executed as punishment and the priest is shot afterward for having taken that Nazi's honor. Karol himself lovingly dumps his girlfriend in the local chapel to declare that he is joining the monastery. My heart melted.

The second 1.5 hours was the Cold War starting in the '50s, still in Poland for the most part, but with new friends and now Karol is a university professor and a bishop. He still keeps close watch over his ex-girlfriend and her new husband and babies over mail while she's in Brooklyn and also helps out his college kids with fighting the oppression and with finding true love. Now he's also got spies hired by the Russians because someone's actually out to have Karol removed and killed. The dimensions of authenticity in this film, considering it is pretty much Karol's most powerful teachings jammed into one 3 hour long sitting, are almost endless. I cry out of inspiration and I cry out of empathy for their pain. Most of all though, I cry because I've fallen in love with with God and the notion itself that love prevails and Pope John Paul II.

I wish I had been older to have met him when he toured the US. I wish he hadn't died in his 80's so that today I'd have motivation to save up for a trip to Brazil to meet him in July for World Youth Day. I've read other people paraphrase his Theology of the Body and Fidel and Ratio and now I'm most likely going to take a crack at the real thing translated. I know that if I could touch just his robe I wouldn't wash my hand and I wouldn't hold back from crying. And to think- there are people who knew him before his priesthood and before his papacy. People who were inspired by him in person and lived on with his lessons on love. To think that college students rallied behind him and stayed for a mass with him and hugged him!

I say "I love [insert composer]" often among other things, but I'm slowly learning to restrain myself and to consider the things that truly inspire me to change to be a new person before uttering the phrase "I love you". People say that old, celibate men have nothing important to say on modern issues of women's health (italics because I think it's bogus) and homosexuality but if we truly think about selfless love and Divine love, especially, it's hard to argue with old, celibate men--especially if they're the Pope.

Sweet rice wine/amazake/Cơm Rượu

I'm grateful for having been exposed to and grown up enjoying Vietnamese cuisine, especially desserts... except for chè chúi ugh. My favorite dessert to this day is cơm rượu, or amazake (it's just easier to pronounce). The first time I had it, I must have been a baby still, because I called it gái đó ("that thing"), and even now as I'm clearly intelligent enough to call food by its given name, my grandma still likes to tell me whenever she's made a new batch that she's made a new batch of gái đó. Jumping to last summer, I had decided to learn to cook finally as I imagine myself on-my-own very soon, and one thing I definitely wanted to make is cơm rượu. My family lived in Saigon but were originally from the North, so I planned only to make it with short-grain brown rice, the way my grandma makes it. Now, though I'm more interested in cơm rượu miền Nam, made with gạo nếp and shaped into tight rice balls.
This Saturday I go grocery shopping so I'll be picking up Chinese yeast balls and I'll start the experiment. Until then, and to keep motivating myself, fotoezz.........

 

//so excite//

Thigh high socks and negative connotations

I really dig thigh-high socks, or over-the-knee socks, because they're cute and are wonderful alternatives to full on pantyhose and tights when I'm wearing skirts and dresses. I'm a little hesitant about wearing them in the presence of the male specimen, though, because they come with sexual undertones and I'd like to avoid enticing anyone, what with my fabulously tight thighs and bright yellow skin and all. It still bothers me that my Google search results for "how to keep thigh highs up" are an equal mix of helpful links to tutorials and images with lingerie models and dominatrix pornographic video screenshots. Thanks, Google, I understand now. I understand that nude legs are sexy, and I understand that barely clothed legs are just as sexy and to many people, even more arousing. Given that, I don't like to dress cute while others look at my ensemble as sexy. Initially when I came home shopping with three new pairs of thigh-highs, I was afraid Mother wouldn't approve because they are "sexy", but she gave me the o-k because "sexy" didn't cross her mind, so I was happy until I talked to a male friend about it, to which he replied and warned me to not tell him about my thigh-highs again or else I'd paint a displeasing--or rather disrespectful-- picture of myself in his mind.

Could someone help me solve the mystery as to why it's so hard to draw the line in the proper place between these two looks?

All clueless complaining aside, I have actually worn a pair with lace band to a dinner party with my dad, and he didn't say anything so I hope these are good to go when I get back to school. (Then again he doesn't tell me anything that bothers him so I'll never know...) At this point it's really difficult to close the case and vow to never wear thigh-highs in order to respect my image when I've already bought three adorable pairs and six complementary knee-socks I was already very excited about wearing. Crossing my fingers here: I hope my first "Thigh-high Thursday" in school goes well without unwanted attention. Winter is my favorite season for fashion!

It's the only season to break out these adorable Bear-bands, too :)

Conditioning for Christmas

Do you focus your Christmas holiday around Jesus Christ or around Christmas presents?
Is it about meeting your material quota or more about spending quality time with your family?
What does Christmas mean to you and why is it important to think about it now?

I've become more aware of these problems during Christmas and Easter this year. These questions are definitely not head-scratchers, but they are a little thought-provoking when I get to the "why" aspect.

So for all of my life until a couple years ago, Christmas has always been about becoming a better person during Advent season to impress Santa (or just my relatives as I got a little too old for Santa) and waiting patiently for the wonderful gifts I would receive after Christmas Eve Mass. My Christmas gifts started out as toys and teddy bears, and as I reached the awkward pre-teen years I had been getting more clothes than toys and at first I felt really unhappy about it. Through middle school I started appreciating more clothes than toys, and then through high school I had been getting less gifts overall and my first reaction is "This is poop Christmas" but now I'm okay about it. (~%!!*Thank you, Recession*!!%~) The kiddy, gift-receiving aspect of Christmas, I hope, as shrunken in me so that I can enjoy Christmas the way it should be enjoyed.

Some years ago my dad joined the church choir, Ca Ðoàn Seraphim, and would always sing for the Christmas Mass at noon on Christmas Day, whereas I would attend the Christmas Eve mass and sleep in. Two years ago I attended the noon mass instead and when I found that the music was so majestic and beautiful, I felt a slight change in me and instantly thought "I'm going to join the choir playing violin." So there I was at choir rehearsal and Sunday noon mass with a crowd of 30+ year olds. I got to play for the very next Christmas and I came to the conclusion that working with people to play beautiful music just for God, especially on Christmas, felt so much more fulfilling than sitting through the Mass without any obligations toward anything other than plainly showing up. Thus, transformed again, as I prepare for my second Christmas with Ca Ðoàn Seraphim, I take up rehearsals and even Advent Masses as gifts for God as I condition my violin playing for the Mass.

This still has little to do with enjoying Christmas the way it should be, however after 14 weeks of Lightworks and a thought-provoking prayer group meeting today, I'm slowly getting there.

Today I see that Christmas in the States is arguably mainly only about buying presents for your loved ones and the delight to be on the receiving end, and simply put, it's easy because we don't have to think about Christ. Plenty of people are afraid to face Christ or think about Him unless it's to say His name in vain, and Catholics encourage people to embrace Christ but there's always someone who defiantly asks "why".

Why focus Christmas around Jesus? Why embrace Christ? Why do I need Him?

In regards to today's reading, Luke 3: 1-6, I had to think about this questions first:

What kind of world did Christ come to build?

The imagery in the Gospel made me think that Christ came to smooth out the kinks in our world. To lower the mountains and fill up the valleys was an analogy of extracting Sin from the world to me. But then I thought that it would just mean that God simply needed to destroy Lucifer, his most powerful angel, which then would only allow us to love God by default and not of choice. So, it's less about "fixing our wrongs" to become good, it's about leading each and every one of us to become new. Christ came to build a world of new people, more than merely good people.

I've been told countless of times by my Agnostic friends that "If God is good and loves us, he'll take us if we just live good lives, because someone who's lived a good life without going to church doesn't deserve to be in hell."
More eloquently put by Roman philosopher Marcus Aurelius (121-180 AD) in his Meditations:

Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones.

If we only focus on becoming good people, we treat God as if we treat Santa Clause."Yes, God, I've refrained from lying and stealing for five years so far. How high are my chances of getting into heaven, now?" Instead, we are called to become new persons, through which only Jesus can help us. Living the life Buddha calls us to live cannot transform us as God's graces do, and that's exactly why we need Christ. It's why Christmas is for Jesus and love and family, and it's why we should spend our Advent conditioning our souls for His arrival.

Much easier said than done, I know. And yes, I am looking for a neat gift for my friend. But I don't want to forget what Christmas should be so that I can reconcile that with how I choose to celebrate this coming Christmas. Happy Advent?

Every soul deserves a prayer

Tonight I just got news from my aunt that a co-worker at her hair salon died of a car crash. It was on her way out of Giant Pharmacy picking up her medicine after leaving work. It's a little ironic: she picks up medicine that will essentially help her live longer by fighting sickness or improving her health, but before she can even go home to properly ingest it, her life has ended in a second.

One time I said to my uncle that I typically don't like to find any kind of death a funny matter unless it's an ironic death. I take it back. Every death is a solemn matter, and every soul deserves a prayer.
I spend a lot of my life planning for the future and deciding what to do with my life 20 years down the road, but it takes another person's death to remind me that nothing about my future, not even my future itself, is guaranteed. I optimize my chances of living a long life every day by taking care of my diet and practicing safety measures when I'm out in public, but in the end, anything can happen.

When I stop to think about it, I don't fear death. I'm only afraid of my life ending on bad terms. I hope her life ended at the fine time.

Busking experience

On Saturday my string quartet played outside our local Giant for donations for the orchestra. It was cold and windy as expected, but my fingers weren't prepared, so for four hours straight it was really rough. We played Winter holiday tunes and Handel's Passacaglia in G minor out of the blue, which I guess is still appropriate because Baroque and minor keys add ups to winter themes.

The passacaglia was the last song in the cycle to play though, and we played three cycles. By the end of the first song, which was really long because of the tempo and the half notes, the cellist was ready to cut the passacaglia. I wanted to sympathize, but I couldn't at the time, so I pouted and told him sternly that nothing would be cut. Of course, after our last cycle I decided to have us check out thirty minutes early and get our hands warm and functioning again.

The sweetest memory I have from that day is when on our last cycle, just as we were getting to play Handel's Passacaglia for the last time, a man walked toward the box to donate and told us he'd stay to watch us play one song. No one decided to stay and watch because no one before him actively showed any interest. Once he stayed, though, a couple of others gathered to watch, and it was so heart-warming especially since it was our last song of the day and it became our best performance. We finished and he applauded, threw in another dollar, and left.

Regardless of having to put up with playing in the wind for generally unspirited and uninspired people in the community, being there with my team and being rewarded with that one generous man at the end made my time there worth while. I'm excited to do this again.



Happy Thanksgiving,
Annie.