The World Of High School

THE WORLD OF HIGH SCHOOL

Much has been written and parodied about universal characters who exist in the world of high school. I went to an unusual high school where each student was carefully selected by a wild process of screening exams to discover 140 students who can guess the right answers in math and science. My initial impression was that every single one of us were geeks and nerds. Not so fast. It isn't true. I am convinced that every high school has the requisite stereotypes in place.

It's amazing though how the social hiercharchy is not limited to high school alone. High school is actually a microcosm of the world outside---the world of "grown-ups". Because the truth is, those stereotypes can continue to exist well beyond the fences of any high school.

What stereotype did I belong to? I don't really know. Drama queen perhaps? Or perennial doormat/sidekick.

So here's my take on what happens to high school stereotypes well over....no, years after high school.

Male geeks eventually land that super degree that eventually finances that swanky home in that swanky gated community. Maybe he'll even wear a trophy wife. Female geeks not just get that swanky house but also begin to look like a million dollars. And both geeks get their garbage picked up by....

The high school jock. Yeah. The one every girl wanted in high school. He still follows high school sports and acts like he can still throw a ball across the court. Except he looks like he swallowed the basketball as he struts along, beer can in hand and hair receding. He constantly searches for that lost limelight and can't seem to find it. He gripes constantly about how everything sucks. He can't understand how he found himself in this unlikely predicament because he always assumed his good looks and charm would land him the big one.

The prom queen-diva queen bee who used to keep a secret list of conquests---some real and some imagined---yeah, her. She's the one girls followed around and idolized wishing they could be her best friend. And she's the one every boy fawned over. Her life is full of "what-ifs" and constant longing. She didn't marry that dreamboy who had the pedigree, cash and social standing she always hoped she could land. She still hangs on to her crown and sceptre and is comfortable only where she is the shiniest. And she eats a lot of sour grapes---never really finding joy because she can only find comfort in a world where she is the center of it. Unfortunately, as time passes, her world becomes smaller and smaller. The biggest rub of all is confronting the fact that the gawky and unsophisticated girls who were her inferior grew up to become beautiful, successful women and she can't get past the sorry fact that her beauty is way past prime and didn't get her any of what she thinks she is entitled to.

The high school sweethearts are no longer.... and each continue to find meaning in their various relationships and eventually discovering love isn't always a high---it's actually waking up everyday deciding to be committed and forgiving.

That guy you swore was gay---well, he suddenly appears in your reunions and he's smokin' hot as hell. He's got a washboard stomach and biceps that seem to burst under his tight, rolled up sleeves. He looks like a stud. He eats only organic food and shops at Whole Foods Market. He is the picture of health. He is an entrepreneur. And he's got a life-partner.

How about that invisible guy who always loved the girl of his dreams from afar? He finally grew tall just in time to get his degree from Yale, pursue that girl and marry her. They have smart children, beautiful grandchildren and they still hold hands. He still can't believe she married him. And they still laugh when they're alone together.

And that bully. Yeah. That scary leader of the pack who relentlessly teased the little guys who didn't get their growth spurts until senior year? He's a born-again Christian who volunteers at the youth center, married a nurturer, and has a fantastic relationship with his sons and daughters.

Okay, so I'm making this up. But maybe I'm not.

The truth is, I do meet and know a few who still live their high school characters. Some still act like bullies. Some still want to live the glory days of their high school days when they were the jocks. Yet others who were never jocks want to be jocks and live their lives with the phony notion that they can still act stupid and hormonal. They're the ones who yell at their kids' coaches and some even take their testosterone-filled attitudes and whack the other little kids in the opposing team. You've read about them. There's plenty of them out there. I used to watch them at every little league game. Or every high school basketball game.

Then there are the ones who learn to survive and get past these labels. They're the ones who come out of high school smart. They live smart. They keep on evolving. They are not afraid to mix with people who know more, have more and accomplish more. They like to be elevated, enhanced and pulled up the ladder of success be it in terms of career, family life or spiritual growth. They keep on looking upwards and onward. They can experience joy vicariously through other people's successes and triumphs. And they are always ready to pull you up when you're down without judgment or recrimination. I hope I am numbered among these great bunch of people.

The Red Leather Couch

I am eagerly awaiting the birth of my red leather couch with black leather welting to frame its outline. It arrives in about 7 weeks.

But it took a lot of time and mulling about to even consider its conception.


I always thought a red couch would look spectacular in my family room. But a red leather couch that looks like it can hold its own in French country style is hard to find. I would have to build it from scratch. First, I would need to find the right couch style--the right curves, legs, arm rests, cushions, back.... then find the exact shade of red leather with the right grade, texture and feel that I see in my mind's eye, not to mention the right trims, or whether it should have a skirt, pleats, gathers, weltings or fringes... and then meld these ideas together. Then the search to find a furniture store that can do this at a price that is affordable is a monster feat in itself considering how tight I hold on to my wallet. Why did it take five years before I finally took the plunge? It's simple: I like to live for contingencies. I mean, a red couch pretty much limits itself. What if I change my mind? What if I can't find anything to match it? What if it goes out of style? Then what would I do with a red leather couch? And come on---RED? So I end up not buying a red leather couch because I am afraid of contingencies. And I end up wishing I had a red leather couch...and languishing in my lack of courage to just "bite the bullet".

Then I thought: life is short. Buy a red leather couch.

And I did it.

Methinks that often I live my life like this---always wishing and wondering about the things I want to do but don't do because I am afraid of contingencies. Sometimes it's good to just go out and dance in the rain. Or wear a bright red leather jacket before I get too old...or too fat. Or learn to play a harp before my fingers get stiff from arthritis---rather than thinking: what's the use? I'll get arthritis before I get good enough to play. Or just go ahead and knock on my old friend's door....in Kobe, Japan. Or audition for that part even if I can't sing spectacularly. Or go to Shanghai to practice my Mandarin dialogues.

So I await my red leather couch with bated breath. Maybe I have time to pull my brushes, paint and easel and paint that picture I see in my head. Maybe it'll go with the red leather couch.


But what if?

Try A Little Tenderness

It occurred to me that I must be one of those people who are overly sentimental and emotional. I find that it's a huge handicap for me because more and more, I find myself caught in uncomfortable breaches of my own doing...though haplessly.


Many times, when I am in the company of friends, I get an overwhelming feeling of tenderness and awe towards them and all I want to do is express how much I appreciate them. But then, when I do, their reaction breaks that sentiment and it startles me....and I get a huge wave of "uh-oh, you are being sentimental again and you're the only one who feels this way...." And then I get utterly discombabulated. Oftentimes, I assume that people around me feel the same way...but they don't. Or they are simply unaccustomed to feeling some tenderness that their response becomes a defensive action to mask their discomfort.


I am accustomed to saying endearments like "I sure love you a lot" or "I really appreciate your friendship" or "I am going to miss you a lot!" or "let me give you a hug." And I like to express how I feel.


Tenderness makes one so vulnerable and it can be a scary affair. Many times, we hold it back fearing that we could be misinterpreted. To my detriment, a lot of times, I get a bit fearless.


I think that the pace and the manner of the times we live in today invariably buries many wonderful expressions of tenderness. We live in an interesting time.


For instance, hand-written notes are now a thing of the past. Or a rarity.


I am a bit disappointed that my daughters will probably never get a collection of exquisitely written love letters---handwritten on beautiful paper. What a delight it was for me in my younger days to get a letter in the mail and then to carefully cut the envelope, anxiously pull out several pages of handwritten sentiments and with shaking hands, read the words written by a boy obviously beset by deep emotions. I remember one occasion when the beautiful words penetrated deep in my heart and tears began to stream down my cheeks, my hands began to shake and I felt a warm, wonderful feeling inside that I had to sit down to complete reading his letter because my knees got weak. Though I did not return the boy's sentiments, the letter did soften my heart and I felt a tenderness that I will never forget. Obviously, I still remember the boy and the moment. He made a lifelong impression. Today, texting on cellphones seem to have replaced this tender expression. "i luv u" or "wassup" just doesn't cut it for me.


The best date I ever had was when one of my beaux, with the aid of my roommates, drove to my apartment very early in the morning while still dark, pulled me out of bed and drove me to our favorite spot on the beach and then waited for the sunrise to express his tender feelings for me, sealed it with a kiss and then ended the short excursion with a little "picnic" breakfast before he drove me back so I could get ready for my first class. Now granted, I lived in Hawaii and just across the beach--- but still, it took a lot of thinking and preparation....and tenderness to come up with that idea. Yeah. Tenderness. That's the ticket.


I love it when I can hug my close friends and tell them how much I love and appreciate them. I love it when I can put my arms around them and it's understood that we feel a lot of tenderness for each other. I have a very close cadre of friends from high school and when we visit with each other, I sometimes try to slow time down and bask in the wonderful atmosphere of friendship and mutual respect. I am so proud of their accomplishments and how they have raised great kids. My friend Corsee, for example, came from a small village in a rural area of southeastern Luzon and pursued excellence throughout her life. It paid off. I think she has surpassed even her wildest expectations of herself. My friend Chat has maintained her indefatigable personality and manages to pull everyone of us together in a close and tight circle. She is the tie that binds all of us. I can go on and on but the point is, when I look at them, I always feel tender. And I always want to express it. And they let me.


Most of all, it has always been my mantra to not hold back my tender feelings towards my family. My husband and my children are the most important people in the world to me and if I can't be tender to them, then nothing else matters. Last night, my daughter telephoned me from her busy college schedule just to tell me she got asked out on a date twice that night. We had a short, "girly" conversation and I wanted to give her the world. I felt tenderness again and again until it overflowed. I love this feeling.


Tenderness is a wonderful thing. If it is suppressed, then we get calloused and hard. Expressing tenderness is a risky proposition and so it takes great courage and self-assurance to do so. The trick is, to want to express it so much that it doesn't matter how it is taken because expressing tenderness trumps our fear of being rejected...or ignored. And it takes practice. Yes, practice. Even when alone, I can close my eyes and feel deep tender feelings towards those people who mean so much to me...my dearest, closest friends, my beautiful family... that I can be moved to tears. And that happens often. Very often.


Now if I can only write with a plume better than I can jiggle my mouse...

Distorting Good

Had an interesting conversation with my husband last night. A man who owned his own business called him for advise regarding a year-old outstanding bill owed him by a customer who also happens to be a friend. It was not a small amount either and totalled in the thousands. He will have a difficult time collecting, if ever, on this debt...and bridges may have to be burned. The overlying reason is most frustrating -- the terms of agreement are VERBAL. Nothing is written. The whole transaction was sealed with a mere handshake.

Now, in a perfect world, a handshake or simply one's word, should be a bond worthy of complete trust. But even when there is that, no two visions are alike. A contract is a tool that can aid in articulating the desired results and also provides the needed parameters to conduct business in a professional and judicious manner. It is not a question of honesty or integrity. There is no morality involved here. The objective is CLARITY for both parties. Where at least two people are involved, an agreement sealed only verbally is a broken bond waiting to happen, at the very least, and a misfortune about to combust, at the very worst. Either way, it will just be a matter of time before this method of doing business will bite where it hurts.

I don't know if it's culture or simply naivete but many people do business this way especially in small communities. People like this person are seen as "good men" who do business the "good way". But morality or goodness is not an issue here. Savvy and intelligence are obviously the items lacking in this picture. I am especially perturbed by the warped sense of "what is good" seen through the eyes of this poor man. Let me elucidate.

First of all, he states that he has never had a problem before doing business without a written contract. Well, he does now. Like I said, it was just waiting to happen. This is how everyone else perished during the flood but not Noah and his family. I am sure a lot of "it never flooded before" poured out of many mouths both during Noah's time and even in New Orleans before the dikes and levees broke. A bad business practice is simply that---bad.

Secondly, he is adverse to issuing written contracts not just because he never needed to in the past but also because he sees written contracts as a sign of distrust. He just wants to be a "good guy". What he is is a foolish businessman and this warped sense of "good" precludes that issuing written contracts is "bad" which is totally untrue. A written contract assures that BOTH parties are protected. It stipulates exactly what job needs to be done, the cost, the time of completion and whatever expectations that can be anticipated. Just because one's word is his bond doesn't mean that their expectations are exactly on the same plane...or that the other party will always be honest. In fact, honesty can be such a gray area in business transactions because each party can have their own interpretation of what was agreed upon. A written contract is legal and binding and all parties need to adhere to the terms of the contract. Even entering a Mormon temple requires a written recommend and you can't enter with just your 'word of honor'. A recommend is indeed a 'contract' that one is worthy to enter the temple and is well aware of the repercussions of their disobedience. But no one is going to question that once you have your recommend. But without it, your word is not good unless you can find the appropriate leaders to vouch for you.

Third, doing business in this reckless manner renders one vulnerable to broken friendships, loss of business, dishonest clients and associates and yes, even family feuds. This is why having a trust and a will is just utterly important and anyone who thinks that they don't need a will because they don't have any 'money' indeed either has tunnel vision or simply don't know enough to appreciate its importance. Ignorance does not excuse one from the "floods" and unforeseen catastrophes that life simply has in abundance. Let me just say that a written contract between good friends you love and especially family members you adore is even more crucial when doing business with them. It is just plain insane not to have one. Many relationships have combusted simply because there were no clear and written parameters for all parties concerned. A written contract saves relationships. I cannot even emphasize this enough.

Finally, it is irresponsible to conduct business recklessly when you have a fiduciary duty to provide for your family. This privilege should not be taken lightly and must be fulfilled wisely. My husband has a family picture prominently displayed in his office to remind him where his duty lies. It reminds him to conduct his business wisely, with integrity and with the appropriate zeal to achieve success---to stretch himself, continue improving and hopefully garner more wisdom from his experiences. It also provides him the needed push when he feels frustrated or at times, daunted by the many risks that he may need to take to grow---and the faith in a God who is always willing to help. The distortion between what is "good" and what is "wise" in this case is blaring. Good and sound principles are necessary for success in life. We must know what these good principles are and then govern our lives accordingly.

French Laundry Adventure

The adventure actually started TWO months before our reservation date when our own Tenacious "C", our persistent and ever clever friend Chat began to call the French Laundry's reservation number ten minutes before the lines opened at 10 in the morning, using two telephones lines. She hit the jackpot and got through. In reality, if you don't get through by 10:20, you don't have a shot at a reservation. Also, what makes it complicated is the fact reservations have to be made EXACTLY two months into the future---not one day sooner or later than your desired date. There is a $25.00 non-refundable fee PER PERSON and you will be charged the full price of the pre-fixe meal if you don't show up. With our reservation secured at 12:30 pm on Saturday, January 27, 2007, we felt like we hit the lottery.

The French Laundry is located in Yountville in the Napa Valley area of California. It's world-renowned chef is Thomas Keller whose list of accolades and awards run ridiculously long. The French Laundry was voted TWICE into the #1 position of the 50 best restaurants IN THE WORLD. The restaurant is a member of Relais & Chateaux: Relais Gourmands and Traditions & Qualité, two distinguished French associations recognized for their dedication in creating and maintaining the highest international standards for hospitality and culinary excellence. As far as I'm concerned, it ridiculously exceeded my expectations even at my most cynical and glum mood. Above is a photo of the French cottage where the restaurant is housed.

We started our day at 9:45 when a long stretch limo picked us up from our hotel in San Ramon. Chat and Butch got picked up first and then they swung by our hotel and we were off to San Francisco to pick up Corsee and Marty. After that, it was off to Yountville!

The ride was great but I got carsick because we were sitting facing the side and well...I began to feel sick to my stomach. It hit me so unexpectedly and I thought I was going to hurl. I think what saved me was the fact that I had nil by mouth. Marty was kind enough to trade seats with me and as soon as I turned on the A/C and had the vent blow cold air on my face and a few sips of Pepsi, I felt so much better.

We arrived at the restaurant exactly on time and when I saw the famous blue door, I knew my adventure was about to begin. We were shown our table located by a cozy fireplace. The napkins and tablecloth were made of the finest Egyptian cotton. And yes, they were white Frette linen of high quality thread count! There was the signature clothespin that held the pleated napkin together on the table. The servingware was made of hollow silver, Spiegelau and Richelieu crystals were used and the white china especially designed by Limoges. I wanted to wash my hands first and when I inquired about the ladies room, I was escorted upstairs and my escort opened the door to a fabulous washroom with classic country French decor and fresh flowers. When I returned to my seat, the napkin that I had placed on my chair was replaced with a fresh one on the table and a waiter pulled the chair and seated me. I felt like a princess! After studying the menu, we all decided on the 8 course chef' tasting menu. ($240 per person) The only other choice we had was the vegetarian tasting menu for the same price.

After we made our choices including the wines that would accompany the various courses for our wine drinkers, our waiter brought us what looked like six tiny baked pâte à choux or puff pastry balls. I popped one in my mouth and a very delicate cheese burst out of the puffs---c'est magnifique! WOW. In a few minutes, six mini "ice cream cones" were brought out: they looked so whimsical. They were actually long and delicate wafers speckled with black sesame seeds. The finest creme fraiche was piped into the cones culminating with a ball of salmon tartare on top that formed the "ice cream" which was sprinkled with tiny pieces of chives. The flavors mixing in my mouth---the delicate crunch of the wafer, the slippery feel of the finely chopped salmon and the rich, velvety cream all combusted in my mouth in a wonderful whirl. C'est bon! I wanted to speak French but remembered that I don't speak the language. Que barbaridad.

There were apparently about 40 chefs and apprentices in the kitchen creating these fantastic concoctions. The servers worked in teams in what seemed like a proportion of two guests per server. Dishes were brought to the table with flair--beginning with the ladies...three servers brought our dishes, placing them on the table in concert, then brought to the men in the same fashion. There I am above feeling very important and royal because of how we were treated.


The first course was the cauliflower "panna cotta" with Beau Soleil Oyster glaze and sterling white sturgeon caviar. Now I've had caviar before...the first time when I lived in Spain and then a couple of other times after when the quality was supposedly much better. And I hated it. Caviar to me, tasted like extremely salty fish-smelling little dots. So, I was very leery. The dish consisted of a tiny oval mound of black caviar on top of a white, custard-like sauce with dots of brown glaze. I took a tiny bite. Mama mia---I was transformed. Now I know why one would pay hundreds of dollars for a can of premium sturgeon caviar. It was just fantastic! Next I had the moulard duck "foie gras en terrine with Hayden mango relish, pickled pearl onions, mizuna and mint "aigre-doux". There was a $30 supplement for this dish on top of the $240. On the side, I was served toast en pointe. Shiver me timbers! I placed a tiny slab of the foie gras mousse on the toast, topped it with a pearl onion, some of the relish and sauce, placed that in my mouth and just savored the melding of the flavors. It was just grand. I had barely finished eating half of my toast and was about to grab the other half when the server beat me to it. I mean, he took the toast and replaced it with a whole toast. Why? Because the toast was no longer warm and so out it went and he replaced it with a warm slice. For the next course, Kurt chose the roasted fillet of Pacifc Kahala with navel orange, piuillo peppers, green garlic and Nicoise olive oil. The dish is shown below.


I, on the other hand, chose the Japanese sea urchin brule with French laundry garden bok choy, red radishes, sweet pea shoots and "Yuzu Coulis". The photo below does not do justice to the dish. Note that only the middle part of the sweet peas were presented---the sweetest portion. All the herbs and produce that they use come from their own garden across the street and were picked just before preparation. You can tell the difference. Every morsel was sweet and prime. The sea urchins melted in your mouth. It was amazing how food can make one feel so wonderful. By this time, I had already decided that Chef was definitely serving us sexy food. Voila!For the next course, we all were served Maine lobster tail "cuite sous vide" with glazed Tokyo Turnips, toasted macona almonds, watercress leaves and "rose" champagne emulsion. See photo below. I think if we had ended here, it would have been all worth it. The lobster was perfectly cooked. The irony here is that the lobster was exquisite probably because of how it was killed as much as how it was cooked. There is a science here...a culinary secret. I left nothing on my plate. Every crumb was eaten. By about this time, the servers presented us with the most luscious breads. Here was where I made a mistake that few will resist making...I ate a lot of the breads. We were presented with two different butters. I loved them both and proceeded to slap a lot of it on my breads. Note that I wrote breads. Be forewarned that eating the bread will, in the end, really give you that "too full, I ate too much" feeling. Not that anyone can do anything about it. Pass on the wonderful breads? Are you crazy?For the next course, we were again given two choices. I chose the slow-braised Devil's Gulch Ranch "Epaule de Lapin" with wilted arrowleaf spinach, Royal Blenheim apricot, Jacobsen's Fram sunchokes and honey and foie gras mignonette. They did not disappoint. This dish, actually the shouder of a rabbit, was robust and savory and partnered with the apricot, the marriage of sweet and savory takes its true meaning that few will ever realize. It was just amazing. Take a look at the photo below:

The other choice, which Kurt picked, is the "rouelle" of Four Story Hills Farm "poussin' with buttered savoy cabbage, salsify "rissole" and Perigord Truffles which is pictured below. He was kind enough (of course, because he loves me!) to let me taste a morsel or two. It was as good as my rabbit and I wished we didn't have to choose one over the other. And now for the coup de grâce...bouillon-poached rib eye of Elysian Fields Farm lamb with globe artichokes, herb-scented "panisse', San Marzano Tomato compote and Coriander seed-infused tea. This artichoke is a singular treat. I like artichokes but never had I ever tasted this variety...that I know of anyway. The lamb melted in my mouth. It was like eating cotton. The flavor was rich and savory. Lamb is my favorite red meat and it was a most apropo ending to main courses.

By this time, I asked for some hot camomile tea and I was served a cup of the most delicious hot herb infusion that I passed on the sugar that I normally would mix into my herb teas. That was totally unexpected. We were then served a plate of Gros Michel Banana sorbet with a side of 'boule de neige" Muscovado cake and caramelized banana coulis. I didn't get enough! But it was a welcome prelude to the grand dessert to follow.

The photo above shows a small dish of creme brulee---best I've ever had. Interestingly, the ladies were served the brulee and the men were served custards flavored with lemongrass in the pots to the right of the brulee. How I wish I could have had both! I just could not decide which one I liked the best. Thanks to my wonderful husband for letting me gulp a couple of teaspoons of his custard. These wonderful concoctions were served after the dessert. We did not expect them. On the side, they also gave us papillons--flaky buttered pastries baked with caramel sugar.

Shown above are parts of the grand dessert: Calice de chocolat a la noisette with white chocolate "granite", toasted hazelnut 'sable' and praline 'semifreddo'. We were so eager to dive in that when we remembered to take a picture, we had already eaten most of it! It was a wonderful, fitting ending to a king's feast. By this time, we were already euphoric from the magnificent culinary experience of a lifetime.The grand total for this feast was well over $330 per person and totally worth every penny. While we waited for our cards to process, they handed us a silver pot of treats: caramels, assorted truffles and confections. And to our delight, the servers handed each couple a white bag filled with goodies: more truffles and butter biscuits. The revelers above, my wonderful friends, Marty and Corsee, Chat and Butch---they were actually what made the whole event even sweeter and magnificent. I couldn't have asked for a better day! For naysayers, keep in mind that the value one can derive from this experience is more than just the exquisite gastronomic experience---the total experience is one that I am grateful to have.

In the end, we posed in front of the famous blue door outside the restaurant. There is a beautiful garden around it where one can walk around and smell the herbs and vegetables growing therein. We decided that we will have to duplicate this experience every year or two. Can't hardly wait.

The Culture of Suffering

 
THE CULTURE OF SUFFERING

I was having lunch with our business manager yesterday at a very chic French restaurant called "Bon Jour" to discuss various design options for our office. It is now about 70% completed. We had just inspected the huge giant glass wall that will separate the conference room from the reception room with the glass artist who will be etching the design I had conceived. He had begun to measure where the design should go and I decided that I wanted him to change the proportions. We were all thrilled that it was all starting to come together. 

During lunch, we began to discuss the costs involved in selecting furniture for the office. The space is 6400 square feet and there are over 20 offices, 2 conference rooms, the reception area, three bathrooms, 5 secretarial "cubbies", a breakroom and a huge storage room where we will install a system of floor to ceiling shelves that will roll across the length of the room like accordion folds. I have begun to select and order the fine details that will make the office unique---depression green glass cabinet knobs and pulls, fine carved brass door handles, light sconces....and now I have to choose furniture and artwork for the walls.


We may have to hire a designer for the other details that I don't have a knack for, like ergonomic work spaces and such. I had mentioned that I know my limitations and reluctantly admitted to my lunch companion that my husband actually hired an interior decorator from Ethan Allen, despite my protestations, to come to my house to design my family room space and how difficult it is for me to get rid of my huge leather couch and chaise lounge that clearly do not go with the flow of that room in any way---be it color, form or style. It has been driving me crazy since we moved into our new home over 5 years ago and this gives me a very uneasy feeling. She asked me why it is taking me so long to fix this and I said: GUILT. Yes, I am laden with guilt. And fear. I said that I don't think I can afford it. And her eyes got huge and she let out a sudden gush of shock. "Don't you know that you can afford that? How did you think you got to build your building? Don't you remember how we had a line of banks wanting us to use their services? Do you think they'd be doing that because we don't have the finances in place? They were fighting over us! Then she asked me: what do you want done to make your life easier? So I gave her a wishlist: a housekeeper to come a least once a week, a personal assistant, a good cosmetic surgeon (hahahaha!! but not really...) etc, etc, mostly stupid stuff that I thought funny... but not really. She said she'll look into all that and make it happen for me. I was dumbfounded. And she said: You can afford it. Believe me. I know how much you make. Well of course she does! She participates in our profit-sharing! But I had no idea until she gave me a clearer picture. 

And I am even more laden with guilt now. Guilt that I have some resources. Guilt that I now have more financial freedom than I thought. Guilt that I can now afford to do things that most people can't. Guilt that I should be doing something noble and I'm not. And fear. Fear that other people will judge me harshly. Fear that I might suddenly metamorphose into one of those idiots I see lunching with their other idiot friends who all look bored and have nothing to do but talk behind each others backs. Fear that if I don't comport myself well, this will all be taken away. And the biggest fear of all: fear that some of my friends and loved ones will hate us and judge us harshly---which some already do anyway. I mean, I know some family members who would love nothing than to see us fall flat on our faces because it will justify their disdain for us. Why? Because they live the culture of suffering.

The culture of suffering is what I call it. That's the belief that in order to be a righteous and God-fearing person, one MUST embrace suffering. It is the kind of culture that believes that in order to attain some measure of respectability and integrity, their lives must consist of struggles and most of all, sacrifices. They like to sacrifice anything that is not required of them to sacrifice anyway. Sometimes, in their quest, they sacrifice their own families, their happiness, their freedoms haplessly, inadvertently and worst of all, needlessly. Now I am not against adversity but I do believe that one does not need to be looking for adversity because life comes already packaged with enough challenges, pain, suffering and difficulties. But the culture of suffering judges people who may actually "enjoy" and rejoice in their successes as haughty and prideful people. I think I am tainted with some of this culture of suffering because the guilt I feel won't allow me to relax and enjoy the peaks and perks that life can sometimes offer and also gives me the permission to wallow in strife and deny the blessings that come to me. It is a delicate balance. 

Sudden wealth and privilege can be daunting. Some think that it can make you happier. The truth is, if you are a miserable person when you had little money, you will still be miserable otherwise. You will still have the same angst, the same fears. I used to fear running out of money when I was on a tight budget and I used to fear spending. I still fear running out of money and I still fear spending. I wish I had rejoiced in the past because I had some money to spend and pay my bills---then I can be really enjoying my freedoms now. But I don't. It almost seems like you have to break a thick barrier to get to the next tier. And you can't get to the next tier unless you break that barrier. But you HAVE TO get there because otherwise, you'd just be plain stagnant....and you WILL feel it. You will feel that urge to keep improving yourself...and your lot.

The biggest hurdle is when you feel that you have to justify your success. When we purchased our first MBenz, one of my husband's relative asked: how much did this set you back? We shot back another wisecrack. But yes, every time I purchase something, I have to preface it with, "it was on sale" or "I had to dig in the clearance box for this", or " they practically gave it to me"---when nothing could be further from the truth. I feel like I have to apologize every time we travel or vacation somewhere. 

Life can be such a funny and complicated ride. I know I make it that way sometimes. But my new goal is to be joyful and most of all, not worry about those who enjoy diminishing or devaluing our triumphs. I will keep those friends who rejoice in our successes and lift us up when we are down and avoid those who want to hold us back. My goal is to always have a grateful heart and a sensitivity to others' needs. Most of all, I want to break away from the culture of suffering because it is the devil who wants us to suffer. If we embrace suffering, we embrace darkness. The God I know wants us to be happy, to rejoice in His blessings, to seek Him in all things.

Missing Tagalog

I served a full-time LDS mission in Spain and spoke Castillian Spanish for a year and a half. Half of those months, I had a Spanish companion. It was a total immersion in the language and culture of the country. About 12 months into this, I literally ran into my first Filipino. She took a look at me and with a gush of excitement asked, "Filipino?" I replied, "Si, soy!" She asked me if I spoke Tagalog. I replied " Si, por supuesto!" She asked me where I was from. I answered, "Yo soy de Manila. Y tu?" She asked me again, "Marunong ka bang managalog?" To which I replied, "Si! Claro que si!" I did not realize I wasn't speaking Tagalog and when it hit me that I was speaking Spanish all the time, my brain tried to shift gears and I found myself stuck for a moment. "Dame un momentito que se me traba la lengua!" It took me a few moments to get going in Tagalog. This was a totally new experience for me. It was very strange to be speaking Tagalog for the first few minutes. Unexpectedly, the shift took some effort.



Last Saturday, while shopping at Dillards, one of the sales reps asked me if I was Chinese. I said that I was Filipino. She then asked me if I spoke Tagalog and I said, "Yes! Of course!" But then, with Hannah by me who didn't speak a word, and not knowing this other lady in any way, I was stuck in some sort of twilight zone of the tongue. It felt weird to speak to her in Tagalog in the middle of a fun banter between me and my daughter. So I told her, that I spoke Tagalog fluently but that it takes me a while to get warmed up. Which wasn't really true because when I'm with my Filipino friends, there's no hesitation and I'm there. But it was true only in this particular situation. I find myself more and more in this particular situation.



I have been married to an American for nearly 26 years. He speaks no Tagalog. None of my children speak Tagalog. I have no Tagalog-speaking neighbors. I am the only Filipino in the church that I attend. And I have no Filipino friends around me. I left my homeland 2 weeks after I turned 19...alone...while I attended a US college in Hawaii. And though I had a small cadre of Filipino friends, most of my comings and goings were in English. My very deep and intimate relationships were always with non-Tagalog speaking people. And as time marched on, I found myself speaking Tagalog less and less. It has been English 24/7 for me. And suddenly, I find myself longing for those subleties and nuances that can only be experienced in Tagalog. Here are some that I truly miss hearing...and saying.



1. Hoy. I love to say that. And I love to hear that. It's feels so intimate to me when someone who cares about me calls out to me in a soft, malambing way..."Hoy! Dito ka muna sa tabi ko" or, "Hoy, ano ka ba? Mag-shopping tayo!"

2. Bahala na. Someone told me that "bahala na' is a contraction of "Bathala na". I don't know if that's true. But 'whatever happens happens' is a poor translation. I sometimes long to hear someone say to me: "Ay, ano pa ba ang inaalala mo---bahala na,'day!" It feels like faith...and hope and all things will turn out exactly the way it should...that is, in our favor. It's like having God always be on your side.

3. Tara na! This phrase holds so much promise of adventure to me. It means, "I love to be with you so let's get going!"

4. Kain na! I love this phrase! Especially when you go to someone's house. They don't say, "how are you?" or "It's great to see you!". They say, "kain na!" It means warmth. It means welcome. It means that all they have is yours too. I love that.

5. Nauulol ka ba? Hahahaha! I used to say this a lot and now I can't coz there's no one to say it to. And no one can appreciate it the way good Pinoy friends can. It just doesn't exist the same way between English speaking friends. "Are you nuts?" is NOT an equivalent.

6. Wawa ka naman. Wish I could hear this sometimes. It feels like an extended hand. It feels like someone shares my sorrows or frustrations in a very big way. But at the same time, it also feels like "get off your soapbox". So it's a hug, a lift and a sharp push at the same time.



I can think of many others but these are the ones that stick out right now. I am flying out to San Francisco in 2 days and I can't wait to be with my posse from Philippine Science High School. I can speak Tagalog ALL DAY. And I will get energized, rejuvenated and elevated. I can't hardly wait.

Where Is Jordan Going?

WHERE IS JORDAN GOING?

Well, scoring in the 99 percentile in the LSAT paid off for my biology major. Jordan, who applied to a dozen law schools got his first response....and its an acceptance! Jordan applied only to top tier law schools like Harvard and University of Chicago...etc but for fun also applied to only two 2nd tier ones like Arizona State and an intriguing law school in Hamden, Connecticutt called Quinnipiac School of Law. (Click on the colored texts---it links you to the school's website!) I think it was the name that intrigued him. I think that was brave. Well, Quinnipiac School of Law sent him an acceptance letter plus incentives.

HOWEVER, he was also accepted into the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia where he was offered all kinds of incentives like, reduced tuition, jobs on campus including assisting a law professor--- a very sought-after and prestigious position and a $4,000 stipend. Notable alumni from this law school would be the likes of....former US presidents THOMAS JEFFERSON, James Tyler and James Monroe, several Virginia governors. Desmond Tutu was their commencement speaker last year.

The next day, he received another acceptance letter from George Washington University Law School in Washington, D.C.--ranked #19 in the top tier listing of law schools. Famous alumni who graduated there would be Senator Harry Reid (but we don't like him...), David M. Kennedy, Daniel Inouye, senator from Hawaii, and many others.

He also got accepted to BYU Law School with incentives but I don't know the details yet. BYU Law School is also in the top tiered rankings. So far, no rejections yet. We are still waiting to hear from a few more law schools. We are very excited for Jordan and he has some tough decisions to make when he gets the rest of his acceptance letters. Exciting. I am very excited for him. He has plenty to look forward to including an exciting seven weeks in England and Scotland with a small group of English students who will be studying the works of British writers. Keep checking this particular blog because I'll update this as we get more word from the rest of the law schools.

After Christmas Venting

It's been a most challenging week. After the kids left last Sunday, I began to feel really sick and eventually, my right ear, jaw, neck and head began to hurt plus a low grade fever began to ensue together with a feeling of malaise. Yep. Ear infection plus flu. The interesting thing is I had this exact same malady 13 months ago to the day! Photo above of my 13 month old medication is clear evidence. Soon after I began taking antibiotics, I started feeling better, fever gone, achy body gone.... but then came the vertigo---just like it happened same time last year when my doctor gave me a prescription for antivert (meclizine). I couldn't take the stupid pill anyway because it just replaced my vertigo with nausea. It is very obvious to me that my immune system just sinks to its lowest after the winter holidays. It is also obvious to me that it is during Christmas that I direly MISS having maids, cooks and drivers who can clean up after everybody.




Gosh, golly, gee. I long for those days when I didn't have to worry about laundry. I have a MOUNTAIN of laundry. My laundry chute couldn't even hold its contents and everything spilled on the laundry room floor. I never had to worry about hanging towels or changing sheets. The maids did all that. I miss having a cook who will take care of every meal. All I had to do was figure out the menu and send her to market. I miss lounging around after meals with family and not worrying a thing about the kitchen. Dishes would be washed and put away and food put back in the fridge. I wish I didn't have to put groceries away after I shop or unload them from the car. Maid or drivers did that for me. And I wish I didn't have to feel guilty and anxious about being sick because laundry just keeps on piling and no one gets a decent meal---not to mention housework just piles up. Then I get depressed and annoyed about being sick. And did I mention guilty? So I can't get better because my emotional state is just whacked out around the moon and back. Last year, it took me nearly 3 weeks just to get feeling normal again. Today marks day 6. I have a long road ahead. I suddenly feel old and decrepit.

Living in America sucks sometimes. OK. I know I am having a bad day right now. But it's true and the only reason is because I can't have maids and a staff to help me with housework. I hate housework. I hate cooking. I hate cleaning. I hate laundry. I hate picking up. I hate it. It's the 13th of January and I am just now removing the ornaments from the Christmas tree. And I have tons to pack and put away. Why can't I have a maid to do that for me? And I need a tall glass of kalamansi juice. Why can't I have a maid to fix me one? I hate to vacuum. I hate doing dishes. I hate being a housefrau. And no one is going to convince me that doing housework is noble. All it does is keep me from executing all the creative things I want to do because if I attempt to do what I want to do, my guilt about housework shuts me down. When Hannah goes to college, I am going back to work full-time so I can hire an assistant, dang it.


Now that that's off my chest, I feel better already.


Below is how I feel.

A Lack of Vision

A LACK OF VISION: GOOD AND BAD BUSINESS

I had two interesting related experiences. Last Saturday, I went to a Filipino restaurant called Pinoy-Pinay located in Las Vegas. I spoke with a nice lady named Mely who happened to own the restaurant with her siblings. They have three restaurants in California aside from their Las Vegas location. I ordered some food for the night. I made a comment about their cash only policy and asked her if she's had a lot of bad experiences with checks and credit cards. She said that she's had large volumes of bounced checks from Filipinos and lamented that checks bounce no matter how small the amount is. And it didn't matter if the checks come from business owners, Filipino doctors or nurses....she's had checks bounced anyway. So she had enough and instigated the cash-only policy. She also installed an ATM machine in the premises. Granted there is a premium of fees when it is used---but she's not had any problems when people have to pay cash. She also made the comment that it's so sad that its mostly Filipinos who bounce checks or use stolen credit cards.

Of course, most of her patrons are Filipinos since its a Filipino restaurant. Her family used to own the famous Liwayway Bakery in Baliuag, Bulacan and that establishment has been in existence for decades because she believes in honesty and that businesses have a longer life if it is run with integrity. And she's not kidding. Every time I order food from her, it's always more than I expect and she never shorts me. The food is always good, hot and the volume is always generous. So I keep on patronizing her establishment. It's a good place. And it's always full. It's an inspiration to see her doing so well. But so sad that she's had these bad experiences with her own countrymen. Of course, if she were a burger joint, she'd probably have the same problems with all kinds of folk since check bouncing is not limited to Filipinos.

Yesterday, Natascha, Hannah and Catherine went shopping with me. We went to Chinatown. Last week, there was a promotional week-long trade show in the Chinatown mall and a merchant gave us a coupon to encourage us to shop in his store. We liked his merchandise so we went back to look for his store. After we chose the items that caught our fancy, I presented the coupon to the cashier.

She told me that the coupon was no longer valid.

I had over $200 worth of goods in my hands so I was incensed and I said,

"But of course the coupon is no longer valid! Because we're here now and I'm holding all these merchandise!"

So she said that I could choose one item from a clearance rack instead of giving me the 20% off. But there was nothing that we liked from the rack and even if we did, everything was small.

So I told her to just honor the coupon because it has no expiry date on it and I just got it last week. She refused. I got mad. So I said, you either have $150 worth of sales today and I don't see any other customers around (there were none...) or zero sales. She refused to budge.

Well, I really liked the 5 pairs of shoes and other items so I got really mad and said, "You know, this is no way to treat a customer. I could be having a great first experience in your store and come back every month and spend a hundred or so every time or you can lose this sale and other potential sales. What is it going to be? Or do you want to call the owner?"

She finally gave me the discount and took the coupon grudgingly. So I was mad. Crazy, stupid Chinese. How dumb is that?

Anyway, I got what I wanted and I'm never going back to her stupid store. But this is so common among the Asians that I deal with. For example, the Korean-run dry cleaning stores will send us coupons and then when we get there arms full of shirts and suits, they tell us the coupons are no longer valid even when there is no expiry date. So then, we are caught literally with our clothes hanging on our arms with no desire to haul them back to the car. Then another battle has to be fought. This type of shenanigan gives us such a bad reputation. It's so stupid.



Anyway, that's my shopping experience for today. Tomorrow, I'll just hit the mall and get my usual good deals at Nordstroms clearance racks. Crazy.

2007 Mishmash

Well, we're five years closer to the Mayan calendar's predicted doomsday date of Dec 21, 2012, which also marks the completion of the galactic alignment when the earth aligns with the galactic equator which is the center-line of the milky way. This happens once every 26,000 years. This also marks the completion of the earth wobbling very slowly on its axis--when it shifts the position of the equinoxes and solstices one degree every 71.5 years--- two events predicted by the Mayan calendar and incidentally, is also when their calendar ends. I'll be close to 56 years old then. I hope I'd have lost 40 pounds. I slept through New Year's Eve---a definite sign of the times---though I think my kids had a great time together. I was just exhausted.

We had the CEO of Mountain View Hospital and his wife as our dinner guests last Saturday. We had a great time. Mark Howard was the 11th LDS missionary in the Philippines who taught and baptized my step-father and his family. He is a delightful man full of enthusiasm, vim and vigor. He loves Filipino culture and...food! His favorite drink is "cosmos" so, as a surprise, I had a 2 liter bottle of Sarsi, formerly known as "cosmos". He drank the whole bottle. I had pork adobo, chicken pastel, guinisang sitaw at kalabasa (squash and long beans), pansit palabok and lumpia. For dessert, I served samplings of mango and jackfruit with cashew ice creams on my green depression glass bowls and saucers. I had quite an elegant spread. I worked the whole day to make the house look spectacular with the kids help, of course. Kurt was his usual charming self. My mom and step-father were here too. It was a fabulous affair. He promised to help Leland land a summer internship with the hospital. I hope that happens. It was great to reminisce the early days of the church in the Philippines.

We completed the study of the Old Testament in church yesterday. Next Sunday, we start the New Testament. I have to say that I fully enjoyed this year of study because I decided to really 'feast' on the scriptures. I've studied the scriptures in various ways through the years---by topic, by elaborate marking strategies, by outlining, cross referencing, etc. This year, I decided to study the Old Testament by reading up about the history of the times on the side. This was a great idea.

To fully understand the Old Testmant which is told mostly from the point of view of Judaic writers, one must understand the culture and times and as much of the language as possible. This casts a wider and brighter light on the text and detail of the scriptures. For example, most people read the Old Testament as if it were a mystical or mythical book that happened in some far away place and time that we can't really relate to. But when you realize that Alexander the Great, Tiberius, Socrates, Plato and Aristotle were alive during the times of the Old Testament, that puts a different spin on the way you perceive things.

I was especially fascinated by the history of the Israelites---how they were dominated and conquered by several kingdoms starting with the Assyrians, the Babylonians and Chaldeans, the Persians, the Greeks and then the Romans who ruled until nearly 500 years after Christ. Another fascinating spin is the fact that great battles recorded by ancient historians such as Josephus actually coincide with battles described in the Old Testament. The battle of Thermopolae for example, happened 500 years before Christ---during the reign of King Darius. Before him, King Cyrus, a Persian ruler who overthrew the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar, ordered the enslaved Israelites to return to their ancestral land of Judah, including Jerusalem, and actually insisted on putting this decree to writing. Included in this decree is the charge to build a temple on the site now known as Temple Mount. This same decree is still being used to this very day when Israel, as late as 2002, used this decree to underscore their right to the land of Jerusalem, specifically, the Temple Mount which is, in large degree under Muslim possession as a "spoil of war". Two Judaic temples have been built on this site, starting with that of King Solomon which was destroyed by the Babylonians. The 2nd temple was built after King Cyrus' decree which was eventually destroyed by the Romans after the death of Christ. The third temple is yet to be built and the anticipation of this event is formally included in the thrice daily Jewish prayer services. This third and last temple will precede the coming of the Messiah. There is actually a movement by many Jewish and non-Jewish groups to expedite this event. I myself am anxious for this to happen. But the political implications are grim as prophesied in the Old Testament and we know now that for this to happen, a great war will have to be fought against the Muslims....which in fact, is already happening.

Another detail that is so lost to the world is the fact that Christ was a practicing Jewish rabbi. He was in fact, a Jew and observed the Jewish traditions as they are meant to be observed. In a fit of righteous indignation, he was mortified that the holy temple (the 2nd one built after King Cyrus' decree...) was being used as a "den of thieves". Temples were and are still an important part of Jewish tradition and should still be important. This gives the building of the 3rd temple on Temple Mount in Jerusalem great urgency. It is part of Biblical prophecy. While many may view this as only a Jewish "problem", if you think about it, it really should be every Christian's dream if we are to be looking forward to the coming of Christ. Anyway, I am looking forward to studying the New Testament and will start my studies immediately. Jordan will be going to London and Scotland for the spring term to study the works of English writers. I am thinking of meeting him in Barcelona when the term ends mid-June. I hope I can manage that since it coincides with Hannah's graduation date. We'll have to do a lot of planning. This summer will be Hannah's last summer before she goes to college. I can't even think about it.

Difficult People

During the holiday season, stuff comes out of the closet in more ways than one. I start thinking about difficult people.

Difficult people (DP) are those who make you feel uncomfortable when you are around them. They can also cause you to feel stress when you think about them and their words or actions cause you to feel terrible hurt, frustration or an unrelenting feeling of helplessness. It is an easy matter when difficult people are simply those you can avoid. But oftentimes, difficult people are part of your family, extended family or those you work with and deal with on a daily basis. That's when it becomes quite a challenge.

I've thought a lot about my own circumstances and the difficult people who are part of my life. I've come to realize why these people are difficult and cause me great frustration. First, they are DP because they have some inner pain that they project on you because you are just the convenient person to strike at. A good example is when someone feels enormous insecurity or self-loathing. When they meet someone who they deem is a threat to their standing in the family or in the workplace, their raison d'être becomes simply to make you look bad or as a difficult person once confessed to me, "to put one over you" at all times. This relentless pursuit to make you look bad or insignificant can be tiring and stressful especially when done over and over. These are people who CANNOT and will NOT see YOU as you are but are caught up in some kind of mechanism that makes them see you and identify you as someone like you who stirs up some sordid, ugly feeling in their minds. This causes them to react to you as if YOU were this person. And you end up the brunt of ugly deeds, words and manipulations. These are people who probably have inner turmoils or unresolved hurt or childhood trauma.

Secondly, some people are difficult because they cannot experience you as you are and thus interpret YOU in a way that is dictated by their limited experience...though their conclusions are quite unchangeable even if you are completely and utterly not even close to their interpretation of who they think you are. This is so common in families. Have you ever been in a situation where, no matter what you say or do, people in your family will still interpret the meaning of your actions or words according to some hidden agenda or encyclopedia in their head? And the worst of it is that your actions and words don't even come close to their interpretation? Ah yes. This is terrible stress.

Most DP come from families where there is unhealthy communication or disconnected relationships. There are three roles generated by this situation: the Perpetrator, the Rescuer and the Victim. These three roles are not exclusive to one member of the family but rather, each member takes on each role under different circumstances. The important point is that whenever these roles are played, NO ONE wins. All lose. Sometimes, the loss is huge and ineradicable. All roles cause pain, perpetrate lies or painful secrets, come from a sense of shame or cause shame, come from a loss of personal power and come from a feeling of worthlessness. The Perpetrator, fueled by the need for self-preservation and/or the need to feel empowered because of the loss of it, has one motivation alone: to hurt others and put them down. They believe that others deserve the punishment or hurt that they are about to inflict. The Rescuer, is fueled by the same need for power, superiority and importance just as the Perpetrator and does this by enabling others. They feel superior by rescuing or enabling others. They take on a "you owe me" attitude. They feel that they need to be in the middle of everything because they are vital and necessary to find solutions to problems. And lastly, the Victim role, again, is fueled by the same needs and thus find safety and self-preservation by being submissive. They are unable to stand up for themselves and avoid confrontation.

The only way to tear one's self from the debilitating dance of taking turns taking on the traits of all three roles is, I believe, largely innate. No one knows for sure why some people can tear away and create healthy relationships despite growing up in an unhealthy situation such as described above. I call it resiliency and emotional intelligence---an awareness of one's self and more importantly, one's worth.

Everyone operates on their hopes, dreams and perceptions. Intellectually, I can understand that people, myself included, have their own version of reality. I understand that what DP say about me is really only a projection from their own reality or awareness. I also understand that most of the time, they do not see me but instead, see only an interpretation of someone like me who they think is me and are imprisoned in this haziness. They obviously do not take the time to see ME as I really am because they have drawn their conclusions already. So they are stuck. And invariably, they lose the opportunity to see the real ME....the true version of me that perhaps they might like after all! If we can only see each other as we really are, we can begin to truly love one another.

The danger of having DP as part of your family is that most members DO have a preconceived notion of what they deem each member of the family is. They cannot fathom that their brother or their sister is an individual--- a living, breathing human being with strengths, weaknesses, interesting idiosyncrasies, hobbies, opinions, personalities---that they have grown up to be people that they know nothing about. They continue to react to them within their reality and awareness that all too often is so diametrically opposed to who their brothers or sisters are. They miss out. They lose. No, everybody loses. The key is, communication and a desire to really know each member of the family individually---not as the whiny little sister or the brooding older brother---to let go of those old, obsolete impressions and just get interested. To even encourage this to happen is like pulling teeth and oftentimes, we get jarred only when it is too late. My husband for example, tried calling each of his siblings on various occasions and his calls are never returned. And he doggedly tries and tries. I admire him. I wish I were more like him. I find that sometimes, we push the same buttons because we are simply too lazy to find other buttons to push that may open up a whole new world....a whole new relationship and perhaps, a lifelong friendship.

How do I deal with difficult people? My tendency is to stay away. Stress gets the best of me. I do try hard to keep relationships alive but sometimes it takes its toll. One holiday, just a few years ago, we put our four kids in the van to make the long drive to spend some time with extended family; some of whom were most definitely DP. We didn't even get to the freeway when I started to have a severe panic attack and began to throw up. Needless to say, we turned around and went back home. That was the last time I was to attempt to spend Christmas in Utah. There has to be a point where I need to just stop, recoup and wait for another time. Hopefully, that time will come soon. Now I understand those stories of family members showing up to Thanksgiving dinner drunk. Well, since I don't drink, I may just have to find a way to be heavily medicated.