In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Two Right Feet.”
I, by definition, am not a morning person. At all. For my entire life, the sound of my alarm going off signaled the end of happiness for a few hours. (Yeah, I was that dramatic). It got so bad I had to set my alarm at least 20 minutes earlier than I actually had to get up in order to snooze it until I felt somewhat guilty and got up.
Recently though, I changed it up a bit. I joined a gym and then, one day, decided to do the unthinkable: I was going to go the Gym before class. Normally, the wouldn’t seem like a big deal, but my classes start at seven. That meant working out at 5:00AM. I will not lie, I do not do this every day, I usually do it on Mondays when I have both morning and night classes and on Fridays because I fully intend to make the best of happy hour after work.
Seriously though, there is something I absolutely love about going to the Gym at this hour. Maybe its the stillness outside, maybe its the fact that there are only like 5 other people that work out at this time, maybe its because it energizes me for the rest of the morning. Whenever I do the 5:00AM thing, I find myself in a better mood and even feel better about myself. When I get home, I shower to whatever playlist I’m trying out and when I arrive to class, instead of being a zombie like everyone else, my drowsiness is long gone.
I don’t have the strength to wake up at that ungodly hour every day (to be clear, I consider 11:00AM to be a decent wake up time), but I do have the motivation to it whenever necessary and perhaps that knowledge is what makes it all better.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “A Moment in Time.”
Many people think photography isn’t an art. After all, anyone can take a picture, right? Well, they’re right about the picture. It is, however, much more difficult to capture a person’s soul, a moment’s feel. That, my friends, is the true art of photography.
Having spent a rather busy weekend, I took many many pictures. However, I think that the most appropriate picture to post was taken by me last Thursday. This was the day my cousin’s daughter (my niece?) was born and my God is she beautiful. We had the chance to see her for the first time just as she was being wheeled over to the newborn’s area and I couldn’t waste the opportunity of taking her first picture.
It’s almost as if she’s trying to wave. She’s struggling to open her eyes, she hasn’t even been properly cleaned and yet… she is still the most beautiful little girl.
You see, whereas her two older siblings took to their father’s side, this little one took from our’s. Her skin is a little lighter, her hair is darker and, most importantly, her eyes are like ours. My mother’s family (on her father’s side) is Chinese. They migrated to our country in the turn of the 20th century and stayed ever since. All of us in the family take immense pride in our Chinese roots and some us were even lucky enough to inherit the almond shaped eyes and the china doll hair.
None of the great-grandkids, however, had inherited any “Chin” (my mother’s family name) until this little angel came along. When we first saw her we beamed with pride. Don’t get me wrong, I love all my other nieces and nephews to death but it means so much to have our wonderful Chinese legacy carried on throughout the generations.
As I admired her and took this picture I only saw my grandfather proudly watching this scene from above. He unfortunately passed away a couple of years ago but I am sure he was right there, meeting his great granddaughter and I could almost hear him saying “This one’s a Chin, no doubt about it”.
My eyes watered as these thoughts ran through my mind and somewhere along the way I managed to snap this picture. This is her introduction to the world. That, my friends, is her first wave, her first look into the world and her first triumph all rolled into one. Why her first triumph? Because she made it, because she’s a fighter and, most importantly, she made us fall in love with her at first glimpse.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Re-springing Your Step.”
This prompt is perfect because it encompasses just what I’ve been feeling the last few days.
Nothing says happiness like a surprise, the look of pure joy on a person’s face when they realize that a person (or several) have put their heads together to plan something just for him/her. That look and that smile is the reason I love organizing surprises for my friends. And that is the look I’m sure I’ve had on my face since Saturday.
You see, yesterday was my birthday and in order to ensure I had the most wonderful time, my boyfriend brought all my friends together in a surprise party. I did not for one second expect what happened. It ended up being one of the best parties I’ve been to and everyone had a wonderful time. It was perfect in every way.
And if that weren’t enough, today my coworkers, both old and new (I’ve recently changed departments so its been quite a transition period), decorated my desk and gave me wonderful birthday wishes and presents. To top it all off, at the end of my night class, two of my very best friends presented me with a beautiful cake worthy of Ace of Cakes. This really has been the best birthday of my life.
Prior to these days, I was feeling very insecure about myself for some reason. I guess what I’m trying to say is that there is nothing like feeling loved. The insecurities have washed away and in their place is a new found confidence and assurance that there are really people out there that care and that love me. This rejuvenation has everything to do with friends, family and being grateful.
A person that knows what love is walks, talks and moves differently. There is a certain je ne sais quois, about this feeling that makes everything that much better and changes your outlook. Be positive. Smile, because there are people that love to see it.
Maybe its not late into the night like I kinda promised, but I couldn’t resist. So… today’s my birthday, 21st to be exact and it has, without contest, been the best of my life. People I know and love came together just for me and there are no words to express my gratitude to everyone. I think the world could do with a tad more gratitude so here goes nothing. Thank you to everyone that has ever been there for me, thank you to everyone that I have the honor of calling friend. These are the people that make everything worth it and that love you no matter what. These are the people that not only think you’re worth spending time with, but that enjoy it. These are the people that you love to make memories with.
I take much stake in making memories because I want to have something to share. I want to have something to laugh about in the future and I want to have something to feel nostalgic about. Good times, trying times, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have someone to share it with. Consequently, I don’t think people should take their friendship choices so lightly. Sometimes you are born with your friends (figuratively) but most of the time you meet them along the way, among different paths. Some come and go, some stay awhile and some are there for the long run. They all matter, but they shouldn’t all have the same credit.
I am thankful today that I have friends I want to spend the rest of my life with. I am thankful today that amongst those friends I met a wonderful man I want to be with forever. I am thankful that I am living today with the knowledge that my life will be worth reminiscing about and that the people in those memories will always have a very special place in my heart.
Thank you all.
Just a late night thought.