Dear higher power of the universe,

Sometimes, I really wonder what you intended for me. I mean, you sent me to indisputably one of the best undergraduate universities in the world, had me grow up with a non typical familial background, and threw some really interesting experiences at me both in and out of country. You let me meet amazing people I have learned from, but distanced people I love within the same year. You had me feel connected with the world on a level I never knew could happen, but then had me feel the loneliest I have ever felt within 6 months of both experiences.

Recently, if you recall-- you swayed me into leaving an amazing location and the work I was doing there to come back home to southern California. I had originally thought the purpose for you doing that was so that I could prepare for the next step I thought you had wanted me to do- graduate school.

Yet, somehow, I am getting feeling that that might not be the case. I feel like I am beating a dead horse in my perusal of graduate school options. Thanks for giving me the feeling to gauge whether something is the right option; unfortunately, I haven't felt that feeling about graduate school.

Now, this leaves me really confused. Didn't you just have me major in something that sort of, um, needs further training in order to actually make a living? Wasn't that the purpose of sending me to a great undergraduate school with a record amount of people getting graduate degrees? Peer pressure, perhaps? I thought the last three years' experience of working below the poverty line was also indicative of needing further training.

At this point, I'm not really sure what you want me to do right now. Seriously, give me a sign.

thanks,

- T

Dear Lottery god,

Dear lottery god of raffle tickets, random number generators, paper slips in black hats, multi-length straws, and wherever else your presence tends to hover,

I know it's been awhile since I've called for you. Sorry? Well, as admissions to XYZ schools are more competitive than ever, I'm sure you've been busy taking care of a lot of hopeful students. If you could take a break from them, tomorrow I would relish a really, really big favor from you.

Recently, there were two names entered into a seemingly vicious lottery. One of these names is mine, and the other is my roommate's. It wasn't supposed to be a lottery, but it was a lottery because as what seems to be the story these days, supply is not meeting demand.

Lottery god, I know I've gotten more than my fair share of good luck and lucky breaks in my life thus far (thanks, btdubs). But if you could work your magic this time for this particular lottery, that would be more than great.

I know that as I type this, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of other people scattered across America who want what is behind those lottery numbers just as much as I do. I bet some are probably talking to you right now. I don't think I am more deserving of this opportunity than anyone else, but I think I could probably do a good job of it if given the chance and think it would really do me a lot of good. It's been a bit of a tough few months, you see. My roommate I'm sure would also be grateful.

I've done all that I could beforehand, but in the end everything comes down to getting my name picked before the future can be history. I understand that sometimes things just aren't meant to be, and I am okay with that. But if you have any inkling that it might just be meant to be, can you please think of me and my roommate?


Sincerely and nervously awaiting tomorrow,

T

On the way home from work two weeks ago, the clouds were looking especially spectacular. I decided to stop the car and take a picture.

Adventures of the Traveling Mumu

Once, in a faraway place in a not-so-faraway time era, there were four girls bound together by the constraints of a vast ocean preventing their freedom of movement. It was like this for a year, and it was adventurously great on many levels.

Fortunately, a traveling mumu exists to continue the documentation of these four girls' globally spanning adventures, post-island.

Most recently, the mumu found its way from the cooler lands of Minnesota to (in theory) sunny Southern California. More specifically, it found its way into an elementary school classroom, where the students were celebrating International Children's Day.

Apparently, Ms. Mumu brought along her friends to join the party, including Ms. Nuk-Nuk and Ms. Liberation Day Skirt.



What places will this mumu see next? Oh, the places you will go, Ms. Mumu!

surfing

Why is it that the 20s can feel more tumultuous than the high school years? I thought the days of feeling like the world was coming to an end had hit its peak when my first love broke up with me at the beach. I spent the next months feeling inadequate, unwanted, and insecure. But the post college years thus far have revealed themselves otherwise. I feel like I’m trying to ride a wave to dry land. I’m paddling, paddling; positioning myself for the right wave to attempt. Waiting patiently, but swimming around, always on the lookout for the perfect crush. Then in the distant, there it is. A slow mound powered by the moon is gaining momentum on the horizon. The feeling of “just go for it” pushes my body to position itself. Then go time comes, and the rising sounds of the ocean make my arms instinctively try to propel the board, and ultimately my body to shoot ahead.

Something isn’t quite right, proportionately. I think it’s the lack of any muscle in my arms. I haven’t been able catch a wave and stand up. In a faded scrapbook, the picture of me doing it in Maui in the 6th grade is but an irretrievable sense memory. Right now, waves are knocking my face left and right, and eventually one side sweeps me like a bitch slap and I fall off the board completely, swallowing salt water with the fall.

I still have a long way to go before I can surf.