Superwomyn

Mediocrity is never an option with me. I don't know why but I have this mentality that I have to be the best in everything I do. That I have to be able to not only do everything, but do it well at the same time. I have to say the right things. Get the best grades. Lose more weight. Make more friends. Make more money. Make my dad proud. Make people laugh. Make people happy. Make myself happy. Be social. Be beautiful. Be visible. Be invincible. The list goes on and on.

I guess I have this vision of myself in the future. A woman who is intelligent, successful, beautiful, articulate, cultured, educated, independent, and has everything under control. I see myself working in my own office and running my own household. A psychologist, a mom, a wife, a superwomyn. I don't know. I think about these things while I'm at the gym, trying to push through three miles on the treadmill. It keeps me going when I feel like my legs can't carry me any further. These grandiose visions of the future. They keep me going when the music isn't enough.

The thing is that I know I can achieve these things. It's just a matter of time, determination, and patience. Time and determination, I have. Patience, not so much. But I think that's something you learn along the way.

Of course, there have been bumps. But no one is exempted from those. There have definitely been times where I want to just fuck all of it. But then, I wipe my tears, take a nap, and wake up ready to face everything head on once again. Come to think of it, I don't know when I became so motivated. I guess it wasn't until my latter years in high school when things got difficult, and my goals became too important to let anything phase me.

Maybe this path I've laid out for myself is impossible. But for right now, it's been a positive source of motivation. And hey, you can never blame a girl for trying.

Daddy's Girl.

I just got off the phone with my dad. Usually when I call, I cry after we hang up. It's not because he makes me sad or angry or anything like that. It's sort of hard to articulate. And I guess it sort of makes me seem like a cry baby (but I have no problem with that).

During the weeks before I left for school this year, I tried my best to make things easier on him. When his wife (formerly known as my mother) decided to take a disgustingly selfish trip to the Philippines, I sacrificed the remainder of my summer break staying at home babysitting, making sure dinner (that I cooked myself) was on the table and the kids were in bed by nine. When I left, my dad had to use his vacation days watching the kids and taking care of the household until his wife came back. Though the term wife is only in title and not in behavior -- however, that's a whole other blog.

I think my dad is the greatest man in the world. He may not be the most educated or the most wealthy or any other thing that society today attributes to greatness. But he has been the greatest example of what it means to sacrifice. He works damn hard to make sure that his family is provided for. He puts us before himself always. In the 20 years that he's lived in the United States, he's only had a vacation once. That vacation was for three weeks in the Philippines after he retired from the Navy in 2002. 20 years. 1 vacation. Every time I tell him that he should take a vacation, he just brushes it off. But every time he mentions that his back hurts or that he's tired, it literally breaks my heart.

He always says, "I just want you guys to have a good life." That's why he works so hard. That's why he sacrifices so much. That's why he puts us before himself.

I'm just really grateful to have a father like him. A great deal of my drive and determination has a lot to do with showing my dad that all of his hard work is for good reason. That he didn't do it for nothing. I want to graduate from college, get my degrees, raise a family -- all to make him proud. To become half as great a parent and provider that my dad is would make my heart content.

One of the best things about my dad is that simple things make him happy. I guess he doesn't want annual vacations. He spends his days off cooking his famous calamari, with a bottle of MGD in one hand and the mic for our karaoke system in the other hand. He's a simple man. Small things like getting compliments on his cooking or watching fishing videos on YouTube or even buying clothes on sale for really cheap make him really happy.

I don't really know where I was going with this. But I guess I just wanted to talk about it because it has been on my mind since the end of the summer. And because I was crying and needed to just type it all out.

Now everyone knows why I'm so proud to be a Daddy's Girl. ♥

Four months later...

So I'm several weeks into my sophomore year of college. Funny how time works like that. You can complain that it goes too fast or too slow, but regardless of how it seems in context to you, it just keeps on going, and before you know it, you're smack dab in the middle of college. School is going well. To do well, you have to study. That's the case regardless of what college you go to. I feel like people make it seem like going to Berkeley is the most difficult challenge ever when it's actually pretty manageable. Then again, I don't know what it's like at other schools, so maybe Berkeley really is hard. I don't know. I can only speak for my experience, and to be quite honest, it's not that bad. Freshman year, I was still trying to get a feel for my academic capabilities, but I swear I could've gotten straight A's both semesters. But the A-/B+ range that I'm in is still good. Now, I'm really striving for straight A's. People say "C's get degrees," but fuck, I need to get into grad school, if you feel me. Even though I've never gotten a C in my entire academic career. &I intend to keep it that way. I'm really afraid of being stuck in the B range right now, and I really need to up my performance because B's do not fly with me anymore. Not that they ever did, but I thought I could make an exception with college. Not possible.

At any rate, the semester's flying by like crazy. It's probably because I only have class three days a week, and my 4-day weekends are always packed. Trying to juggle class, studying, my boyfriend, work, feeding myself, working out, and having a social life makes my week so hectic. But I'm sure that's the case for everyone. Except that I have an incessant need to excel at everything, so that makes everything all the more challenging. But it just makes me more motivated, so it works in a strange, twisted way.

My summer was bittersweet. I got to chill with friends and all that jazz. And I got rid of my stats pre-requisite via Grossmont. Easiest college class to date. 105% in the class? Damn, I wish classes at Cal were like that for me. My birthday was... Ugh, let's just not go there. That can be another blog. (It was that bad.) On the upside, I did get a diamond promise ring as a gift from PJ. Sometimes I just stare at it. So sparkly. Greatest gift EVER.

This summer, I also learned that I refuse to be home longer than a month. I spend a year away from home, then when I come back, I remember exactly why I was dying to leave in the first place. I don't know. San Diego doesn't feel like home to me anymore. I'm sure the major falling out with my mom has a great deal to do with it. (Also a whole 'nother blog.) But also because I'm growing up and I'm realizing that there's so much more to the world than what I've been exposed to. And because I know how to fucking take care of myself, so having rules imposed on me like I'm still a child is just plain retarded. All my visits home will only be to see my dad and my sisters. And to devour some badass Mexican food.

I have lots more to say, but this thing has gotten way too long. I also tried to widen the text field on this thing only to realize that I've forgotten all that I know about HTML. Wow, isn't that sad? Hahaha. Then again, it has been awhile since my intense blogging days in junior high.

Expect more consistent blogging! (Hopefully.)

--- EDIT ---
I figured out how to widen it. GO ME!