Pavlov would be proud

Some of you may have heard this before.

Ok. The phone call is a question. When the phone rings, there is no obligation to answer, no one testing to see how fast you respond, no world records are being set for the most or least amount of rings before someone picks up the phone. The phone call is a question.

And the question is this: do you want to talk to me?

My experience with people and phone is this...people tend to jump to answer when the phone rings. They hear that sound and they have this innate desire to pick it up and say hello. It doesn't matter if people have caller ID, they just have to pick it up.

Shh...a secret...you don't have to pick up.

And if you choose not to answer the phone, no reasonable person can be mad at you. They asked you a question and you said no.

And yet...

As of late, due to the nature of my job, I am finding that people don't understand the concept of the phone and its question asked in ring tones. They pick it up. While they're driving, while they're in the bathroom, while they're in the middle of burning dinner. And every time they're annoyed that I've called, I have to wonder: did you have to pick it up?

I've been told numerous times at my call center job that "It's not a good time." Or my current favorite: "I'm driving right now and can't talk." If you can't talk...don't answer the phone. Let us leave a message. Obviously it's not a good time, and I'm not offended if you can't talk. I understand. Sometimes I'm doing too many things and I can't answer the phone. And during those times of busyness, my answer to the phone call question is plain and simple:

"No. I can't talk right now."

And I let it go to voice mail.

All right. I'm done for now. But I will leave with this: if you hear the phone ring, think about the question. There is no reason we have to salivate every time we hear a bell.

Currently watching : The X-Files - The Complete Sixth Season (Slim Set)

Radio Silence

I love deadlines. Especially the whoosh sound they make as they pass by.

I've got nothing.

I guess I'm experiencing what you might call a dry spell. Writer's block. Radio silence. Creativity has left me and all I'm left with is a blank page, a blinking cursor and a slight crush on Zach Braff.
Apparently, I said I was going to finish this book I'm writing. And I've been all over the place the past couple of weeks that I have no idea who my characters are, why they do the things they do.

Hence, writer's block.

Ok. The process story. I'm not one of those writers who let their characters dictate what they do--they don't "speak" to me. I don't have a plan for the characters; I don't even know where they are going to end up. I stare at these characters, trying to understand why they are doing the things they are doing and I have no idea where they are coming from. And so it goes; these characters feeling everything they're supposed to feel and doing...nothing.
I guess I'm waiting to be inspired again. It often takes me awhile, and often when I am nowhere near my computer or even a pen and paper. So I'll sit and focus on that slowly blinking cursor and wait for that inspiration to come.

It's not like I'm on a deadline or anything.

On peut toujours esperer.

Currently watching : Garden State

Inspiring Perspective

Here's another book report.

I just finished God's Politics, by Jim Wallis. Great book. Although there are dry parts and segments where I wonder: "did he really have to share something he had already written once before?", I found myself inspired by this man's perspective.

Despite what most people think, this book does not describes what the Right is doing wrong or what the Left fails to do and what God thinks of either of those parties. This book, as a whole, is not even anti-government. This book, for a lack for a better term, does not dwell on what Jesus would do.

So what does this book do?

Well...a lot of things. But what I like most about it is how he talks about the poor. And what I realize, more than ever, is how the poor has truly dropped out of the national debate. This is a sad state of affairs since the poor makes up a large part of America as well as the most underrepresented group in America. So what now shall we do?

Start talking. Just because the government isn't, doesn't mean we shouldn't. And you never know...as the last line of the book states:

We are the ones we are waiting for.

Smoking Cigars and Sipping Brandy

First of all, I have never smoked a cigar nor sipped brandy.

However, when I was growing up, my grandpa and his close friend at the time, Mr. Daranciang, would spend the better part of our parties sitting around, drinking brandy and talking about the ways of the world. I did not take part of such conversations, and most of the adults in the room seldom ventured into deep subjects. I grew up thinking that to be an adult was to be able to hold your own in those politically heavy conversations.

Yes, folks, I wanted to be part of the exclusive club of armchair rulers who build empires (even in their own mind) in a smoke filled room.

Sadly, Mr. Daranciang died (may he rest in peace) since then, and most of my grandfather's friends have also passed away or don't live nearby. But the biggest difference is...my grandfather has a hard time hearing.

Back to my story.

One random Friday afternoon, I bumped into a two former customers of mine. One of them, Bruce, liked to have intelligent conversations. While I was working at Starbucks, I had to stop the conversations mostly due to time and the fact that I couldn't talk about certain subjects.

Ah, the curse of the green apron.

Since then, Bruce and I have had some conversations, but he said he held back a couple of times because he didn't know if I would hold my own without getting emotional. I didn't think of it as a bad thing...I was, as of late, unpracticed in debate. (Sorry for the unfortunate rhyme.)
But this day was different. In my answer to the question "Who do you like for a presidential candidate?" we found ourselves deep into a conversation about Senator Clinton. In midst of my diatribe, Bruce nodded and said, "That was very well put."

I was elated.

He egged me on to other current events and situations. The brandies were replaced by coffees. And the cigars...well, Bruce was the only one who smoked. My answer to a question grew into a hour and a half political debate. We chased every rabbit that we could find. We didn't necessarily disagree or agree on any issue, but what I had learned from my grandfather and Mr. Daranciang, that doesn't matter in these Armchair Conversations. A debate isn't about winning, its about talking about issues that are worth talking about.

At the end of the conversation, Bruce said, "You did great. You did really great." He was impressed.

I held my own.

I beamed at the compliment I had worked so hard to get from my grandpa. And although I may never get to share that conversation with him, I knew that he would have been proud.

At least I hope so.

And no...I'm not ready for that cigar or brandy.

Currently watching : Scrubs - The Complete Fourth Season

Mental Scrub

Ok. Fine. I'll admit it.

I am currently having a slight obsession with the tv show Scrubs. Like with the West Wing, everyone said it was a show I would love. And of course, I got sucked into the joy that is Scrubs.

And of course, I am drawn to the slightly awkward and silly character.

I'm sure that this will, too, will pass.

Currently watching : Scrubs - The Complete Second Season

Joy Mingled with Sorrow

Wow. I haven't written since the beginning of the month...what is wrong with me?!?

This past weekend, my friend Christie got married. I had the privilege of coordinating her wedding, and thus, got to reconnect with her family. I haven't seen her family in a long time, and I do miss them and definitely miss working with her father. (Her father was the youth pastor for a youth group I used to help lead). So, for one nostalgic week, I remembered what it was like to be in presence of a generous and lovign family like the Burkes.

On a side note, that Saturday not only did I remember what it was like to work with them, but why I had burnt out in two years. My mind is still in a whirl as to how I did for so long!

Back to my story.

The joyous occasion also gave me the opportunity to work with the Fredricks family, close friends of the Burkes. They are all great and I love every chance I get to hang out with them outside of church. Sadly, two days later, my pastor, Jon Fredricks, got into a car accident. He is fine and will have to go through a couple of surgeries and endure a long recovery. Although everyone is fine physically, I do ask for prayer for his speedy recovery and protection and healing mentally, spiritually and emotionally for the Fredricks family.

Its odd, in that very ironic way, that one moment we were laughing and enjoying our time together and the next moment, we were saddened and frightened over our hurt friend. But what is not lost on me is that both moments, over the span of only a few days, brought people together. Of course, we'd all like to have the joy and not have to experience so much sorrow, but it is in both of those kinds of moments that we realize who we want to share our lives with and how precious life is when (and because)we are together.

Please join me in prayer for our friends.

Currently listening : Garden State By Various Artists

Singled Out

I had an odd day at work today.

It wasn't bad. It wasn't good. I just wasn't connected. This isn't anyone's fault, so don't believe for a moment that this is a rant. This, is a weird confession of one of my deepest insecurities.

When I was six, I was singled out as the smartest kid in the class. Instead of it being a great achievement that would begin my road to success and law school, it felt the shame that comes when one realizes that people don't like the kid who knew all the answers.

First grade was my first year in public school and in a new city. No one knew me. Once the teachers and administration found out that I was a bright kid, they wanted to move me up or find a school they could ship me to that would best suit my "accelerated" needs. My first two months as a first grader were insolated meetings with my counselor trying to discuss what was the best course for a bright girl like me.

My mother didn;t want to send me to a different school. (And I thank her so much for that!) Plan B? I was given different worksheets on top of my regular class work that would drive my individual learning as well as keep me from boredom.

Not only was I given MORE work every day (because that is all what a kid wants), I was singled out. As if the other kids didn't know I was smart, they were reminded of it whenever my teacher asked them to let me finish my "extra" work. They already didn't know how to talk to me because they couldn't understand what I was saying in my thick Filipino accent--and now their teacher gave them permission not to speak to me because I was doing something "special."

Now...I don't blame anyone for that. But I do blame myself for what I did next.

I sabotaged it. I played dumb. I didn't participate. I learned not to speak even though I knew the answer to the questions. I failed so that I wouldn't be singled out.

Acceptance, it seems, is a bigger influence.

Yes, I know that I am not six years old anymore. I've learned a balance in the twenty years since then. I don't flaunt that I know something but I don't pretend I don't know anything.

Except for today.

I was singled out at work during our training sessions. No one was mad a me, but people didn't know how to talk to me because they knew that I wasn't in the same place as them. I felt ashamed as this old insecurity made its way back to the forefront of my mind. I tried to think of ways to make sure that they knew that I didn't know all the answers (because I don't) and I wasn't proud of being singled out (because I wasn't).

I know this is stupid of me to dwell on this. But I guess being stupid is kind of the point.

Eli's Coming

I have not written anything in a long while.

I guess you could say that I have been distracted. A lot of things have happened in the past two weeks, most all of them good (yeah! new job!) and some not so good (Grandpa is doing better, by the way.) But all are showing me the goodness and glory of God.

However, today, I found myself wanting to tear my hair out. Don't get me wrong, I love my job and everyone is safe and sound, but something's bugging me.

And I don't know what it is...yet.

My very first day at World Vision, one of my teachers said this:

Before I started at World Vision, my marriage was good. My family was good. My health was good. And after that, the enemy did everything in his power to make me stop. My marriage fell apart. I couldn't connect with my family. And my health...well, we won't talk about that. My point is this: God brought you here for a reason. A great reason for a great mission. And that is exactly what the devil doesn't want you to remember.

Most of the time, I can remember my purpose. But there are days when the mind starts to wander and all of a sudden I find myself in a new land that I swear I have been to before, but for the life of me, can't remember how I got there.

All I will say is this. We all have a button, a trigger, that sets us off with even the briefest of touches. A finger is poised on that button, I can sense it.

Eli's Coming.

Give credit where credit is due: "Eli's Coming" is a Three Dog Night song. And it's meaning to me came from a show called "Sport's Night." The chorus goes: "Eli's coming, hide your heart girl."

Currently listening : A Walk to Remember By Original Soundtrack