A Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

- L. Hughes

Taco Bell and the Art of Loving Vegetables: A memoir of my 1st month in NYC and Eagles.

Even though most people have their worst fast food experience at Taco Bell (i.e. diarrhea), one of my fondest memories took place at this infamous restaurant. As you can tell by my height (5'6"), I didn't eat my vegetables as a child. It was so bad that my mother couldn't even get away with sneaking pureed mushrooms into my spaghetti without me noticing. I can say, without a doubt, that feeding me vegetables was one of my mom's top 5 life goals. And it was always my goal not to eat them. Some days she would get away with mixing minced mushrooms into my curry-rice, and sometimes I would flat out reject my dinner because I find a speck of garlic in my food. This battle was relentless, my mom's petite stature doesn't do justice to her determination, and this fight went on for at least a decade.

I eat vegetables now. One of my friends in high school was making fun of me not being able to eat vegetables, and I had to prove him wrong. (oh, the powers of peer pressure) The carrot wasn't bad, so I started eating other greens and eventually, after traveling through India and China, I can eat just about anything.

But before all this happened, the magic of my conversion happened at Taco Bell. The "Yo quiero Taco Ball" commercials with the talking chihuahua just started airing on T.V., and what can you say, I loved that fucking dog. Because of that tiny mexican dog, I asked my mom to take me to the nearest Taco Bell, and I had my first taco. I loved it. And so did my mom. My mom was so happy everytime we went to Taco Bell because inside that crunchy taco was lettuce- which is a vegetable.

It's a stupid and insignificant memory I have, and I'm sure you were bored reading all this (and I thank you for getting this far).

It's been almost 7 weeks since I got to NY, and it's been good. Not great. I think the joys of studying what I love outweighs all the struggles I've had, and I also hide things well- even to the point of not realizing them myself.

I had Taco Bell for dinner today, and I rememdered all of what I just wrote and of something she said to me recently over the phone. After telling her that this month has been though, she said, "it's because you're an eagle."

You see, I'm 23 years old, and before I left for NY, she still treated me like I was still her child who didn't eat his vegetables. And everytime she treated me like a child, I told her, "I'm an eagle. Let me fly on my own."- it eventually became our little inside joke.

She explained: You always said you were an eagle, and now you have to be one. All eagles fly high, but sometimes it's not easy to fly. And when eagles struggle to fly, they learn how to fly higher.

I guess I'm on my own now, even more so then the 3 months I spent in China, and eating my crunchy taco alone today helped me realize that I've finally left the nest. I have to admit, I really miss home, but the skies I must fly are here.

r.i.p. jamesus

there are very few people who are worthy of the suffix "-sus". there's joesus (former 2 time UCR KCM president), a great guy. there's also jesus, the son of the one and only almighty God. but today i'm writing about jamesus, the kindest, most selfless man i've ever met. merely thinking of you gives me hope for our depraved humanity.

what a great loss for all of us.

because of commitments and convictions

almost two years ago i went to china with a great vision, and i came back with an even greater calling. i’m not saying that i was called to be a missionary. no way. but i was called to go back. i don’t know maybe not. maybe i feel like i have this great calling because i had so much damn fun in china.

regardless, i made a commitment to go back to china, and i intend to keep my word. i won’t be trekking the streets of beijing with my enormous twenty person team this time, but i won’t be alone. a guy by the name youface will be coming to with me, and i hope we can have fun together. but more importantly, i hope we can keep each other accountable.

i haven’t done anything so far to prepare for this trip, i don’t think i’ve even prayed much about it. so i think i need to start.

happy mom's day

speechless

steven curtis chapman is truly a blessed man with great gifts from God.

the chorus from his song "great expectation" amazes and challenges me at the same time.

Believe the unbelievable
Receive the inconceivable
And see beyond my wildest imagination
Lord, I come with great expectations

we live in a miracle-less society and our (my) view of God has diminished to something soo small that i attempt to contemplate the ends of His existence. thinking of God as something to be figured out, to be completely comprehended, i approach my faith with cockiness and a selfish goal (to feel moral, to attain eternal life). but this song brings me to my knees in utter awe and fear, to be loved by a God that is unbelievable and inconceivable is in itself also unbelievable and inconceivable.

for love of country?

in her introduction, martha c. nussbaum says,

Most of us are brought up to believe that all human beings have equal worth. At least the world's major religions and most secular philosophies tell us so. But our emotions don't believe it. We mourn for those we know, not for those we don't know. And most of us feel deep emotions about America, emotions we don't feel about India, or Russia, or Rwanda. In and of itself, this narrowness of our emotional lives is probably acceptable and maybe even good. We need to build outward from meanings we understand, or else our moral life would be empty of urgency.

when we are not provoked, we are apathetic and despondent. nothing can be more true of myself than what nussbaum says about the united states. i sit idle, clueless, and compassion-less unless i find that i am in danger, some threat to my well-being.

case and example. the truth of the matter is, i am the biggest procrastinator in the world. i, however, like to call myself a "pressure writer", or better yet, a "clutch" writer. my basketball parallel would probably be robert horry. not kobe, not dwayne, not even steve nash. it's not that those superstars aren't clutch, but the fact is that i don't do anything in the first, second, third, or even the forth quarter. i still stand at the three point arch and score only two points, the only two that can win the game.

i'm not saying that i always win, but what i am saying is that i don't do anything till the very end.

what martha wrote about, however, has nothing to do with basketball or procrastinating, but it has everything to do with how America doesn't move an inch on most world issues until a great threat is posed on our precious soil or future aspirations. i'm not saying that i'm any better, or that i would make better decisions than bush, i would probably make the same, but what i am saying is that we need to make a change.

relient k says it best in their song down in flames

I'm part of the problem,
I confess,
But I gotta get this off my chest.

Let's extinguish the anguish
for which we're to blame,
and save the world
from going down in flames.

i'm sorry for sounding so apocalyptic, but we are all heading down a direction that doesn't look so good.

it took pearl harbor for the united states to get involved in world war two.
and it took september eleventh for us to join together to and be compassionate for each other.

nussbaum ends her intro,

Seeing how vulnerable our great country is, we can learn something about the vulnerability all human beings share, about what it is like for distant others to lose those they love to a disaster not of their own making, whether it is hunger or flood or ethnic cleansing.

weren't all men created equal? and if we were, how come we don't act like it?

there is, fortunately, a glimmer of hope.
Rousseau says, "Thus from our weakness our fragile happiness is born".

Or is it?