Posts Tagged ‘gratitude’

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I like when burned bridges are rebuilt.

It renews my faith in the idea that there are just some people that are meant to be in your life.

It also reminds me that when it comes to real friendships and real connections, there is no such thing as pride. It’s easy to say sorry and to forgive when it means that you get to tell funny stories, lament about problems and maybe go to the beach together again.

I’m glad that those people in my life that I had once thought to be indispensable also feel the same way about me…whether the reason for the distance and silence in our relationship was my fault or whether they hurt me, there will always be room in my heart and in my life for these friends.

When I got that voicemail from one, I was astonished because I had been the bad guy in the relationship. If he could see me as a friend again, I am certainly not above saying how sorry I was.

When I ran into another old friend and he offered me a smile and a joke, I was just relieved that the snark and sense of humor that had once made us inseparable in high school was still intact. “I’m sorry I stopped talking to you,” I finally blurted out at the end of the night. He smiled, “All water under the bridge, Iz. This,” he gestured between us, at the invisible bond that somehow was still there 12 years later. “This doesn’t just get washed away.”

Looking back at us, at myself, at everyone else who have since walked in and out of my life…I realize that maybe there really isn’t much that cannot be forgiven after all. Time does heal old wounds. Age gives us wisdom to blunt the edges of our pride. Love, laughter and the memories drawn from those may sometimes fade, but remember, the heart is a muscle…and muscle memory is pretty powerful. You’d be surprised at how easy it is to pick up old friendships right from where you left off. It’s just like riding a bike!

Today, I’m just grateful for water under the bridge…and for bridges that were burned, but were somehow rebuilt over time.

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Person: Best Boss Ever

Addy is quirky and off-beat. She’s interesting and instantly adds a spark of life into any situation. She’s also my boss. She basically hired me based on one meeting with her. I e-mailed her for job advice, and the next thing I know she’s e-mailed me that she has recommended to her boss. The rest is history.

She’s supportive of where I am in my life since she’s been there. She knows how hard I’ve been job-searching for legal jobs, and how difficult everything can be. She knows the weird limbo I am in because I am waiting for my bar results. In fact, she turned to me one day and grins, “So, what are you doing the day you find out?”

I grimaced at her because I have really tried very hard not to think about that day.

“I’m on it,” she says with a Cheshire cat smile on her face.

I’m pretty sure we’ll be watching Harry Potter drunk, and drinking some more, and sushi-ing it up…until the fateful hour the results show.

I’m pretty scared. But Addy assures me that whether or not I pass, she will still like me. Hahahaha! That’s why I’m grateful for you.


I absolutely LOVE Halloween. It’s always been one of my favorite “holidays” because I get to dress up and be whatever I want to be. It’s also a great opportunity to see how funny, creative, and awesome friends are when they come up with costumes. This year, with Halloween on a Sunday, it was fun celebrating Halloween for three straight days.

Thing: Water

Three straight days of Halloweening does not do a body good. Water, on the other hand, makes it all better.

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Today (Sunday, 10/03/10) was one of those days that just flew by so fast because everything was just so great. Not that nothing went wrong–because, have you met me yet? It’s funny how so many people think I’m this responsible Type A personality, when in reality I’ve only learned to keep my mess and klutz in check for the sake of the human race.

Anyway, today, I have a lot to be thankful for so I should get on with it.

with my mom @ the Farmer's Market on the Embarcadero


There aren’t very many people I can count on to do anything for me, but my mom always comes through. She’s been there through the thick and thin, making the big sacrifices and all. But the little things also matter. Today, I was in such a rush to meet up with my tailgate buddies that as soon as I loaded my small cooler and bags of chips, I hopped into the SUV with them…and forgot my purse in my own car.

I had to call my mom from the tailgate to go to my car and please take my purse so it doesn’t get stolen. She does.

Later, after the football game, I realized that I had also lost my car keys. Naturally, I called my mom and she came driving up to Niles’s house with my spare keys. She was so awesome with her patience and just being there for me that I was so glad and thankful she is who she is.

EVENT: My First Raider Game, aka Being in the Black Hole

I loved my first NFL game. I loved that it was a Raider Game. I loved that it was with Tripps, PMaster, and Tim. I loved the tailgate and the little traditions. One such tradition: the line for the newspaper. Tripps sees my curious look and shrugs, “No one gets to touch the paper, especially the Target ad or the Best Buy ad before Tim.” I see. Tim grunts and pulls out the pages he wants and sits in his beach chair. At which point, everyone takes their piece of the Sunday paper, sits in momentary silence and reads.


w/ Tripps and PMaster (and his wolfman beard)

(Because I left my camera in my purse in my car, I had no Game Day pics. But I do have this classic one of the three of us at a Cal Game, which is just fine and appropriate because we’re going to another one next weekend anyway. Though, PMaster really needs some Cal gear…)


Another tradition: BEER ME, BITCH! –> apparently, PMaster is the Beer Bitch, and he must refill everyone’s beer or bring them a fresh bottle within five seconds of the last drop being drained from the current bottle. Tim told me that I had to yell at PMaster as loud as I could. Hence, “Beer me, Bitch!” I demand, and off scrambles PMaster to the cooler. It was 10 AM and I was on my third bottle. Wow, look at me.

Tradition III: Tim’s legendary burgers. They were GOOOOOOOOD. I asked Tim if the secret ingredient was love. He gives me a scowl and goes, “This is a Raider game, the secret ingredient is hate.”

Then, when we went into the Oakland Coliseum, we had to go to “The Wall” and rub Tim’s name with our “Non” Hand. The what Hand? PMaster explains, “You rub Tim’s name with the hand that you don’t masturbate with. For luck.” I crook my eyebrow at him, “Say what?” Awkward second ensues. Then Tripps grins, “We’ll be gentlemen and turn our backs when it’s your turn, okay?” Much better.

Music was also pretty fun and they had little dance-offs on the jumbo-tron which was mighty entertaining. They (over)played “I Gotta Feeling…” which annoyed PMaster to no end. He isn’t a fan of any other music other than growling and metal, so all the hip-hop and rave music blasting through the speakers only made him growl. Hahahaha! So, of course, Tim and I took every opportunity to “whooooo-hooooo” to the Black-Eyed Peas as loudly and as enthusiastically as we could.  I pointed out that the Raiderettes could not possibly shake their booties to Metallica, whereas Usher and Pitbull were far more appropriate (and in Tim’s case, much, much more appreciated).

The game was awesome, despite the Raiders’ loss. It’s not like one actually goes to a Raider game anticipating a win (*cough*) since it’s been a good 7 years or so since they were actually good. But a Raiders game is an experience, a sensory assault, and a real test of your virtue and patience. PMaster and Tim are two of the best shit talkers I know…and in a Raider game, that’s multiplied by a thousand other people. Then, there are the characters: Darth Raider, Raider Wolf, etc… the video below will give you an idea of such characters.

Needless to say, I had a helluva time at the game!


THING: Spare Car Keys

Well, yeah…back to reality. I’m so glad there are such things are spare keys. Otherwise, I’d have to pay a bazillion dollars to get a fancy-schmancy, inordinately expensive VW key.

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Gratitude: it’s underrated.

I think people need to practice gratitude more often than they practice the Art of the Whine. My friend, Evan, introduced me to the Gratitude Project which really is as simple as it sounds: Be Grateful for Something Everyday.

So, I’ve decided to actively do that. Remember when I joined in on Seth’s idea to not complain for 30 days? I don’t really know if I passed or failed that test, but I do know that it made the entire Bar Studying Experience a lot less of a thing to whine about than something I just had to do.

As great as the No Whine Project was, it focused too much on something negative (i.e. not doing something). That’s why I think the Gratitude Project is genius because it makes us think of the positives of our day (and still preserves my right to whine when things go wrong, mwahahaha!).

So, the way I’m going to do the Gratitude Project is to find one person, one thing, and one event per day that I am grateful for and explain why. Easy.

I hope.


1. Person: Jessica P.

Jess and I have been friends since my first day at JLHS when I sat slightly away from everyone else on the bleachers while Coach Rod introduced himself. I had 2nd Period PE for my first class of the first day of school on my first time in an American school. I probably had the deer-in-headlights look. I had terrible listening comprehension (I thought Americans spoke way too fast), could barely trust myself to speak the English words I had studied all those years in my classes, and was generally just a NERD/GEEK/FREAK/OUTCAST. I didn’t know a smidgen about fashion (I had worn a uniform since I was in kindergarten from 6 am to 6 pm every day of my life, and on weekends I wore more uniforms for sports so fashion was never an issue); I was obviously a tomboy and wore a XXL shirt and baggy pants that three other people could have fit in with me; and I didn’t understand all the cultural, social, and socio-politico-economic implications that was life in an American HS (I had gone to the same school with the same group of people from kindergarten to high school…and there were only about a hundred of us in our graduating class…there were no boys in our school…nuns walked the halls and taught us. Drama? What is that?) I doubt there is anywhere else in the world where high school is so angsty and confusing.

So enters Jessica. She looked at me over her shoulder, climbed the bleachers to where I sat and said Hi.

I had never been so grateful for that word in my life.

She smiled that big smile, “I’m Jessica, you must be new. What’s your name?” She had a big voice and an even bigger personality. When she found out that I wasn’t just new to the school but to the country, she took me under her wing. I found shelter in her friendship that entire year. She introduced me to everyone she knew — and she was popular and well-liked (and was voted Class Clown with Nate), which made me an instant-part of any group she was in. She introduced me to speech and debate and to the people who would continue to be my family to this day.

She invited me to parties and sleep-overs and she never asked me to change who I was. She let me learn from her and I am grateful that she is still one of my best friends ever.

We both had our hearts broken over the past year and yesterday, we sat and talked about our lives over burritos (ahhh, typical of us), and laughed over our predicaments. Left and right some of our closest friends are getting married and neither one of us could see that in our near future. But it was okay because it was something we both could laugh about and support each other through.

Jessica reminds me everyday that it can take something so little as a smile and a “hi” to change a person’s life and the way they see the world around them. Every time someone new comes around, I will always remember to make them feel welcome, and to stay with them until they feel like they belong, too. It’s so simple but it’s so powerful.

2. Event: Meeting Bryan H.

I was a little lost in UC Davis King Hall. Then I was extremely bored in UC Davis King Hall. I was about to pass out from sheer boredom when a deep purple shirt tucked into perfectly pressed pants stopped right in front my fading line of sight. “Hey,” says a voice.

I look up and smile. “Hey.”

“I thought you were APALSA for a moment.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Because I’m Asian?”

He shrugs. “They were here before you.” He looks at my table, goes around the table and pulls up a chair. “Mind if I sit with you?”He was already seated, so I shrugged.

Talking with him made the rest of the three hours bearable and time flew by in a blur. He was engaging. He was annoying. He was funny. He was chauvinistic. He was strangely humble and yet arrogant at the same time. It was like every time I would think he was awesome, he would say something completely opposite that I would instantly change my opinion of him. And then he’d say something incredible again, and I’d be impressed again…and so on and so forth. It was almost weird never really finding a comfort zone talking to this guy, but that was okay with me. Like I said, time flew by with a quickness.

We talked about Tie Tuesdays (why he was dressed so nicely), the Marines, Military Service, JAG, law school, life, being a drill sergeant, motivation, and just very random things. Next thing I knew he was standing up and saying, “Hey, I have Contracts now, will you be here tomorrow?”

“Is it time to go already?” I asked, in shock, pleasure, and another strange mix of disappointment and relief.

I’m grateful for him keeping me company and just…being. I don’t know why I’m grateful really, but when I thought about it today, he was one of the first things that popped into my head as me being grateful for. So, there you go, Bryan. I’m grateful that I met you.

3. Thing: Air Conditioning

This should be self-explanatory. California has been suffering from an onslaught of extreme temperatures. I was in UC Davis and Sacramento yesterday for work, and boy was it H-O-T. Granted it might not have been as hot as Los Angeles, but it was still a scorching 103. I was so glad that everywhere I went, I was greeted by a blast of cold air, thanks to this marvelous invention.

I think I might have had an aneurysm if AC didn’t exist. Whew!

Gratitude Project Day 1: Check.

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