My grandma passed away today. We were very close. I wrote this eulogy for her.
The greatest gift my grandma has given me and my siblings is her unconditional love for us. With this love came a sense of pride so powerful, I have spent many moments trying to decide if I truly deserved it. I’ll be honest, it is in our nature to look down on ourselves a little bit.
I tried to look up a quote about pride that would be fitting to this speech. I couldn’t find one. Every quotation about pride was negative, cautioning, and shrewd. My grandma’s pride in us was none of these things. Instead, my grandma looked on every achievement and downfall with an equal sense of opportunity and encouragement. Her pride in us was never unknowing, rather it was wise to what we were capable of if we just applied ourselves.
When I was in elementary school, Grandma would send us packages with t-shirts she had made. She was very into this book of iron-on transfers she acquired, and she would transfer specific designs onto t-shirts and custom-paint them for us. My brother received shirts decorated with cars, trains, boats, all in his favorite color-- blue. I remember my sister once received a sweatshirt with a cheerleader chanting for her first rec-soccer team, The Apostles. “Go Apostles!” it said. I still have my favorite t-shirt my grandma made me. It’s bright pink, embellished with three fluffy sheep in a barnyard. I always loved that shirt, and I wore it proudly-- “My grandma made this for me,” I’d tell the other kids in my class. For every iota of pride she held for me, I met her back tenfold.
I had an eerie experience one time with Grandma when she visited us in San Jose. I’m going to guess I was about 12, maybe 13. Grandma liked to take us shopping when we saw her, and this particular visit was no exception. As a side note, I remember Grampy telling me the best way to make a dollar disappear was to give it to Grandma. I still think this joke is funny. At any rate, Grandma took us shopping at Macy’s, and this particular memory takes place at the register, where she was buying me a nightgown. I still have it: it’s from Joe Boxer (very hip at the time), adorned with cool-colored butterflies. Yes, I still wear it sometimes. As she sifted through her purse to find a credit card, I stared Grandma up and down. Although I was young, I knew I was looking at myself, many years in the future. I was certain I would look just like her someday, and had an ounce of hope that I could become as endearing and kind. The woman at the register took Grandma’s payment, and admired the two of us. “This is your granddaughter,” she asked. My grandma proclaimed proudly that I was. “Oh, and some day she will be just like you, buying presents for her grandchildren,” the woman behind the counter knowingly responded. I remember being absolutely dumbfounded that this random woman had predicted everything I had simultaneously wished for. I left Macy’s feeling heavy, caught in the act; and I was very proud.
I have two pictures of my grandparents on the wall in my kitchen. One was taken at a frat barbecue on Coney Island, the other during their honeymoon at Niagara Falls. My friends will come over, mull over my things, make comments, yet always pause while looking at these two pictures. “Who is this woman,” they ask. I tell them, happily, she is my grandma. “You look so much alike, it’s strange,” they exclaim. I thank them, because I am so pleased, proud even, to be compared with her.
When Grandma played with us, she always suspended her sense of wonder. She let us adorn ourselves in her scarves and perfume and pretend to be gypsies or kitties or whatever. She read books to my brother, made art projects with my sister, and she regaled me with stories and year book photos. Nothing we believed or feared was childish or foolish in her eyes: the knot holes in the woodwork on my brother’s crib were terrifying, and the scary crab noises my sister heard were very real. While my pursuit of theater came as a fairy-tale to some, Grandma never judged it as frivolous. Instead, she was proud of me. Every poorly edited VHS tape of every performance I ever did was wonderful, and so I became wonderful to myself.
I feel very sad and a little angry over the circumstances that I share these memories with you. I feel sad and a little angry that Grandma isn’t here to hear exactly what I have to say. These feelings, though I know I share them with all of you, are not productive right now. Grandma held so much joy in her life, and she brought joy to others, as if by a fault. I imagine her feeling a little guilty with us being so sad. She was a light to everyone she met, and she will go on burning in our hearts.
Grandma told me that all of her friends came to her house and commented that the portrait taken of me from my senior year in high school looked just like Rita Hayworth. She was so proud to claim me as her granddaughter. I was so proud to be a Rita Hayworth look-alike who could claim my grandma. I have been so blessed.
Oh go in beauty, thy peace be with you, till we meet in our hearts in the light.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Saturday, January 5, 2008
oh, and . . .
I don't like Tom Robbins. I know he's everyone's modern American literary darling, but pretty much, he annoys the goddamned shit out of me. All hatred aside, Robbins is dynamic and talented in his own right, and this passage is poignant:
If you take any activity, any art, any discipline, any skill, take it and push it as far as it will go, push it beyond where it has ever been before, push it to the wildest edge of edges, then you force it into the realm of magic. And it doesn't matter what it is that you select, because when it has been pushed far enough it contains everything else.
If you take any activity, any art, any discipline, any skill, take it and push it as far as it will go, push it beyond where it has ever been before, push it to the wildest edge of edges, then you force it into the realm of magic. And it doesn't matter what it is that you select, because when it has been pushed far enough it contains everything else.
Friday, January 4, 2008
I have really exciting news:
I have officially been to Wisconsin! Today was a very exciting day, indeed. After work this afternoon, Rose, David, and I took an impromptu trip up north to visit the vibrant city of Milwaukee. You know all this talking I've been doing about wanting to go more places in the Midwest? I'm on a roll, man. We stopped off in Evanston to visit a certain American Apparel and, umm, shop, and then it was straight up to America's Dairy Land. It gets dark very early here, so my impression of Milwaukee is a little strange because we didn't end up getting there until about 6 o'clock. Rose found this random brewery by sending text messages to Google so we stopped in for a tour. Lakefront Brewery, that's what it was called. The tour itself was okay, and they gave us a lot of free samples of beer, a souvenir pint glass, and a $5 food coupon all for $10. I mean, shit's cheap in Wisconsin. The really awesome thing about this brewery was that the restaurant part of it was set up as this very German-American family style deal with live polka music. Really good live polka music and a dance floor. It was a little obscene how quaint the entire experience was. The brewery itself was packed too, and there were a lot of little kids running around and dancing little kid versions of polka. I think they were all drinking rootbeer.
After the brewery we ventured downtown and went ice skating on an outdoor rink. I hadn't skated in years, but I'm not too bad at it. Yet to be perfectly honest, I was no match for all the Milwaukee pre-teens who probably skated out of the womb onto a picturesque frozen pond. I'm serious though, they were all really really good.
I liked what I saw and could process of Milwaukee. Coming into it off the freeway (actually, it was a toll-way), the city looked like mountains of industry with tall cozy buildings nestled behind it. There were signs of this contrast of industry and quaintness throughout the downtown. The city has a river running through it that was frozen solid. It was strange, because even though the three of us took a bit of a walk around downtown, we saw very few people . . . very very few for a Friday night. Milwaukee is definitely not a city as I'm used to-- it has a very simple, small-town feel. In some ways, it reminded me of Dublin a little bit, because I remember being so surprised at how small Dublin felt when I was there. I think the river evoked that image as well.
It's warming up again! The past few days have been really cold-- at least the coldest I've experienced right now. Right now it's 31 degrees, and I know it's crazy, but that feels damn balmy. I think I'm adjusting fine to the cold weather; I'm not bad at dressing in layers and wearing all the necessary garments. What's odd, or still novel to me, is that I'll have all these clothes on (undershirt, longsleaved shirt, sweater, leggings, pants, coat, scarf, hat, gloves, two pairs of socks, boots) and my body will not feel cold, but my face, which is peeking out from all these layers will feel a cold sensation unlike anything I've ever felt. If I have to walk far enough, my ears will start to burn, and I feel this stabbing pain in my back because my entire body wants to shiver for my ears' sake, but finds itself unable. It sounds dramatic, but I don't feel dramatic about it . . . just a bit chilly.
So the new drink of choice is Maker's Mark. Whiskey warms the heart and tests the soul, my friends.
After the brewery we ventured downtown and went ice skating on an outdoor rink. I hadn't skated in years, but I'm not too bad at it. Yet to be perfectly honest, I was no match for all the Milwaukee pre-teens who probably skated out of the womb onto a picturesque frozen pond. I'm serious though, they were all really really good.
I liked what I saw and could process of Milwaukee. Coming into it off the freeway (actually, it was a toll-way), the city looked like mountains of industry with tall cozy buildings nestled behind it. There were signs of this contrast of industry and quaintness throughout the downtown. The city has a river running through it that was frozen solid. It was strange, because even though the three of us took a bit of a walk around downtown, we saw very few people . . . very very few for a Friday night. Milwaukee is definitely not a city as I'm used to-- it has a very simple, small-town feel. In some ways, it reminded me of Dublin a little bit, because I remember being so surprised at how small Dublin felt when I was there. I think the river evoked that image as well.
It's warming up again! The past few days have been really cold-- at least the coldest I've experienced right now. Right now it's 31 degrees, and I know it's crazy, but that feels damn balmy. I think I'm adjusting fine to the cold weather; I'm not bad at dressing in layers and wearing all the necessary garments. What's odd, or still novel to me, is that I'll have all these clothes on (undershirt, longsleaved shirt, sweater, leggings, pants, coat, scarf, hat, gloves, two pairs of socks, boots) and my body will not feel cold, but my face, which is peeking out from all these layers will feel a cold sensation unlike anything I've ever felt. If I have to walk far enough, my ears will start to burn, and I feel this stabbing pain in my back because my entire body wants to shiver for my ears' sake, but finds itself unable. It sounds dramatic, but I don't feel dramatic about it . . . just a bit chilly.
So the new drink of choice is Maker's Mark. Whiskey warms the heart and tests the soul, my friends.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
New Year Here
Well, I officially know what zero degrees feels like. I italicize "feels" because it's technically 15 degrees outside, but weather.com tells me the wind chill factor is making it feel like zero. I feel really silly, because I didn't put on a hat this morning when I left for work, and thus had to walk home in said zero-feeling weather with a bare head. My ears and nose have never felt this sensation before.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
So there's this thing called blogging . . .
. . . and I'm apparently not very good at keeping up with it. 2008 is upon me, and I resolve to become better at updating, mostly because I was/still am really excited about this project.
Apologies and self-deprecation out of the way . . . how are you?
I'm great!
I'm trying to think of what's been going on in the past 6 or so weeks. Let's see . . . I work a lot. Like a lot a lot. I think my longest stretch without a day off so far has been 16 days. I can't say that I enjoy working so much, but it's what I need to do right now to get ahead. Sometimes I get a little anxious that I'll never be able to get ahead, and I'll be stuck working forever and never doing what I want to be doing (aka making theater). This is already a lie, because the project I'm working on with Max, Rose, and Kevin is in rehearsal and we're set to perform on the 23rd of January. It's been an interesting experience because we're working without a designated director or other set roles. As a result, there's been a lot of collaboration and melding of ideas. I'm surprised at how much I've brought to the table as far as developing a story and making it work on stage, mostly because I kinda always assumed I was simply and actor and didn't know much outside creating a project from that standpoint. It's funny, but I've realized that I've been so conscience of making the story clear that I've slacked off a little bit on character development. I'm not worried though. We have some time left to pull everything together (and a lot still needs to get done), and I have a feeling this project will consume the next few weeks.
I haven't been on any auditions for a few weeks, mostly due to holidays and the like. I'm okay with that. I feel like auditioning has gone well, better than I ever imagined it could go, but unfortunately my heart isn't in it at the moment. I feel like a bit of a snot, but I really just want to work on developing my own pieces. I've been having so much fun working with Max, Rose, and Kevin on our show that I haven't wanted to venture off into the rest of the theater world to look for other projects just yet. Rose and I had an awesome opportunity to talk to a guy who's a part of a theater company based in Chicago (the name of the company escapes me) for a while about starting a company. I asked him point blank, "What do we need to do to start our own company?" expecting him to give a short, bullshitted answer. Instead, he talked for half an hour about everything that goes into making a company work, from the ground up. He was extremely encouraging, and offered to help us in any way he could with advice and support. It was really great to experience such compassion and excitement from someone more experienced in the theater scene in Chicago. Moreover, he never acted like it was ludicrous of us to think we could take on this task by ourselves, without any real experience. Instead, he was practically encouraging us to go it alone, and figure things out along the way.
Despite my desire to work on my own shit, I think it would be foolish of me to ignore the opportunities all around me. I have some auditions lined up in January, and I've decided it's really important to just get out there and go consistently to make good connections and get more experience. Red Moon has an unpaid internship they are auditioning for that I am really into. It's focused on creating performance involving objects and structures in public space, and I feel like it would be an excellent opportunity for me to learn and meet people interested in the same kind of performance I am. Although I feel trained as an actress, and capable of bringing something to someone else's project, my understanding of developing pieces of my own is limited. I really want more information about the best way to map out a performance, what styles work, what relationships can be created, what media best incorporates into performance . . . I think my biggest concern in developing pieces will be being poignant without coming across as heavy-handed. It is my belief that you can create theater that shatters preconceived ideas and shakes an audience to the bone without preaching or being indecipherably abstract-- I mean, like, I've seen it.
At times I'll feel really overwhelmed about being here. I really love this city, and I know moving here was the absolute right decision. At the same time, it hasn't been so easy picking up and moving so far away without any real prospects or directions. I mean, I had a job and a place to live and I knew two people, and admittedly, that was a pretty good start. I'll catch myself beating myself up for not accomplishing more in the less-than three months I've lived here, and I always need to stop and take a deep breath and remind myself that I am 22 and I am doing the best I can. I think it can be frustrating because there is so much I want to do, and I want to do it so badly that at times I hurt, and failure scares me more than anything. But hey, I'm kinda a grown-up now, so it's probably time to start taking it in stride.
Let's see . . . other news . . . Patrick Kovach-Long came and stayed with me for about 6 days about two weeks ago. I had a lot of fun showing him around the city. It snowed a lot while he was here. We made a trip to The Art Institute, and I got to see a bit more of the museum than I had previously. Sunday in the Park is pretty fucking incredible. And did you know that the two people in American Gothic were the painter's sister and his dentist, 'cause I didn't. We also ended up drinking a lot of beer and watching over half the season of "A Shot of Love with Tila Tequila." I have some intense criticism for that show, MTV, and reality television in general, but all that for another time. For now I'll just say that I agree with Patrick: Tila Tequila looks like a scary alien cat-person.
I didn't get to go home for Christmas because of work. My first Christmas away from home was actually an intense and wonderful experience. I went to Midnight Mass at the Catholic church near my house (theater at its best), which I found incredibly uplifting and inspiring. The priest said some beautiful things about "the meaning of Christmas" which were akin to some thoughts I was having the same night. He talked about Christmas being a time to celebrate the joy in your life, despite hardships and turmoil in the world. He said that a lot of cynics can't get past the pain in the world to see that Christmas is an opportunity every year to meditate on joy, and for us to open our hearts and minds to everything that has happened to us in the past year and how we have grown. Honestly, he didn't mention Jesus as much as I thought he would, and I could really identify with the things he talked about. A lot has happened to me in the past year-- a lot of intense, trying things-- and I felt like I have learned so much about myself since last Christmas that it would be silly for me to treat it like a bunk holiday because I wasn't at home with my family. My friend Abby came over for Christmas breakfast, which was way fun. She had about a sip of champagne, and I drank the rest of the bottle. Champagne is really wonderful, I should invest in it more often. Later on we went to her house in Logan Square and cooked dinner with Kat and somehow ended up watching Sesame Street on YouTube. I really couldn't have asked for a better holiday.
I just got back a little while ago from driving Rose to work in Evanston. Evanston is kinda far, and I thought it would be good karma to drive her in this 22 degree weather. Illinois still fascinates me. The heart of Chicago is so un-Midwest looking, that sometimes I forget where I am. For a while I was convinced that this city looks like a city that could be anywhere in the country, that it didn't have a very obvious regional identity. When I mentioned this to Kyle, he told me to look closer, citing his experience in New York. He says New York feels like anybody's city most of the time, but every now and then he's hit by the intense realization that he is surrounded by east-coasters. **shutter** Anyway, my original point is that the more I see of Chicago and the surrounding areas, the more I like it. It's a little elusive. The suburbs are weird. Rose and I were driving on these picturesque streets in Evanston this morning-- huge-ass Victorian-inspired houses with ginormous lawns all caked with snow. It was weird, man. It was so . . . not California. I'm really hoping that over time I'll be able to work a little less, and I can take a trip to such exotic places as Michigan and Wisconsin. I'm not even being sarcastic right now.
Apologies and self-deprecation out of the way . . . how are you?
I'm great!
I'm trying to think of what's been going on in the past 6 or so weeks. Let's see . . . I work a lot. Like a lot a lot. I think my longest stretch without a day off so far has been 16 days. I can't say that I enjoy working so much, but it's what I need to do right now to get ahead. Sometimes I get a little anxious that I'll never be able to get ahead, and I'll be stuck working forever and never doing what I want to be doing (aka making theater). This is already a lie, because the project I'm working on with Max, Rose, and Kevin is in rehearsal and we're set to perform on the 23rd of January. It's been an interesting experience because we're working without a designated director or other set roles. As a result, there's been a lot of collaboration and melding of ideas. I'm surprised at how much I've brought to the table as far as developing a story and making it work on stage, mostly because I kinda always assumed I was simply and actor and didn't know much outside creating a project from that standpoint. It's funny, but I've realized that I've been so conscience of making the story clear that I've slacked off a little bit on character development. I'm not worried though. We have some time left to pull everything together (and a lot still needs to get done), and I have a feeling this project will consume the next few weeks.
I haven't been on any auditions for a few weeks, mostly due to holidays and the like. I'm okay with that. I feel like auditioning has gone well, better than I ever imagined it could go, but unfortunately my heart isn't in it at the moment. I feel like a bit of a snot, but I really just want to work on developing my own pieces. I've been having so much fun working with Max, Rose, and Kevin on our show that I haven't wanted to venture off into the rest of the theater world to look for other projects just yet. Rose and I had an awesome opportunity to talk to a guy who's a part of a theater company based in Chicago (the name of the company escapes me) for a while about starting a company. I asked him point blank, "What do we need to do to start our own company?" expecting him to give a short, bullshitted answer. Instead, he talked for half an hour about everything that goes into making a company work, from the ground up. He was extremely encouraging, and offered to help us in any way he could with advice and support. It was really great to experience such compassion and excitement from someone more experienced in the theater scene in Chicago. Moreover, he never acted like it was ludicrous of us to think we could take on this task by ourselves, without any real experience. Instead, he was practically encouraging us to go it alone, and figure things out along the way.
Despite my desire to work on my own shit, I think it would be foolish of me to ignore the opportunities all around me. I have some auditions lined up in January, and I've decided it's really important to just get out there and go consistently to make good connections and get more experience. Red Moon has an unpaid internship they are auditioning for that I am really into. It's focused on creating performance involving objects and structures in public space, and I feel like it would be an excellent opportunity for me to learn and meet people interested in the same kind of performance I am. Although I feel trained as an actress, and capable of bringing something to someone else's project, my understanding of developing pieces of my own is limited. I really want more information about the best way to map out a performance, what styles work, what relationships can be created, what media best incorporates into performance . . . I think my biggest concern in developing pieces will be being poignant without coming across as heavy-handed. It is my belief that you can create theater that shatters preconceived ideas and shakes an audience to the bone without preaching or being indecipherably abstract-- I mean, like, I've seen it.
At times I'll feel really overwhelmed about being here. I really love this city, and I know moving here was the absolute right decision. At the same time, it hasn't been so easy picking up and moving so far away without any real prospects or directions. I mean, I had a job and a place to live and I knew two people, and admittedly, that was a pretty good start. I'll catch myself beating myself up for not accomplishing more in the less-than three months I've lived here, and I always need to stop and take a deep breath and remind myself that I am 22 and I am doing the best I can. I think it can be frustrating because there is so much I want to do, and I want to do it so badly that at times I hurt, and failure scares me more than anything. But hey, I'm kinda a grown-up now, so it's probably time to start taking it in stride.
Let's see . . . other news . . . Patrick Kovach-Long came and stayed with me for about 6 days about two weeks ago. I had a lot of fun showing him around the city. It snowed a lot while he was here. We made a trip to The Art Institute, and I got to see a bit more of the museum than I had previously. Sunday in the Park is pretty fucking incredible. And did you know that the two people in American Gothic were the painter's sister and his dentist, 'cause I didn't. We also ended up drinking a lot of beer and watching over half the season of "A Shot of Love with Tila Tequila." I have some intense criticism for that show, MTV, and reality television in general, but all that for another time. For now I'll just say that I agree with Patrick: Tila Tequila looks like a scary alien cat-person.
I didn't get to go home for Christmas because of work. My first Christmas away from home was actually an intense and wonderful experience. I went to Midnight Mass at the Catholic church near my house (theater at its best), which I found incredibly uplifting and inspiring. The priest said some beautiful things about "the meaning of Christmas" which were akin to some thoughts I was having the same night. He talked about Christmas being a time to celebrate the joy in your life, despite hardships and turmoil in the world. He said that a lot of cynics can't get past the pain in the world to see that Christmas is an opportunity every year to meditate on joy, and for us to open our hearts and minds to everything that has happened to us in the past year and how we have grown. Honestly, he didn't mention Jesus as much as I thought he would, and I could really identify with the things he talked about. A lot has happened to me in the past year-- a lot of intense, trying things-- and I felt like I have learned so much about myself since last Christmas that it would be silly for me to treat it like a bunk holiday because I wasn't at home with my family. My friend Abby came over for Christmas breakfast, which was way fun. She had about a sip of champagne, and I drank the rest of the bottle. Champagne is really wonderful, I should invest in it more often. Later on we went to her house in Logan Square and cooked dinner with Kat and somehow ended up watching Sesame Street on YouTube. I really couldn't have asked for a better holiday.
I just got back a little while ago from driving Rose to work in Evanston. Evanston is kinda far, and I thought it would be good karma to drive her in this 22 degree weather. Illinois still fascinates me. The heart of Chicago is so un-Midwest looking, that sometimes I forget where I am. For a while I was convinced that this city looks like a city that could be anywhere in the country, that it didn't have a very obvious regional identity. When I mentioned this to Kyle, he told me to look closer, citing his experience in New York. He says New York feels like anybody's city most of the time, but every now and then he's hit by the intense realization that he is surrounded by east-coasters. **shutter** Anyway, my original point is that the more I see of Chicago and the surrounding areas, the more I like it. It's a little elusive. The suburbs are weird. Rose and I were driving on these picturesque streets in Evanston this morning-- huge-ass Victorian-inspired houses with ginormous lawns all caked with snow. It was weird, man. It was so . . . not California. I'm really hoping that over time I'll be able to work a little less, and I can take a trip to such exotic places as Michigan and Wisconsin. I'm not even being sarcastic right now.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
random assessment.
So I've realized I have this really bizarre habit of starring in people's windows. I'll be honest, I did not come to this realization recently. I think this habit has been with me for a long time, only it's become more pronounced over the years. The first time I really became aware of it was when I lived in Dykstra, and people kept their doors open, and I would always try to sneak peeks into their rooms as I walked down the hall. Okay, it sounds a little weird, but it wasn't like I was expecting to catch something interesting/exciting happening, so much as I had this urge to look into space that did not belong to me and silently judge it. Maybe not even always judge it, maybe only observe sometimes. Anyways, years after the dorm experience, I still stare into open doors and windows with the shades up. I especially like to look into restaurants, because people are so silly looking when they eat. At this point, I'm willing to dub myself a voyeur.
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