| This is how it's supposed to be. |
[03 Nov 2009|11:21am] |
| [ |
music |
| |
kate nash - merry happy.mp3 |
] |
Returning to my academic career is an idea I have been seriously toying with for a year now. When I was laid off at SSI, I was overwhelmed with the sense of opportunity. My window had been presented and though it was a dim outline of a path, it was preferable to the complete darkness I had been facing.
Throughout this past year, however, I have wrestled with myself as in most cases I am my own worst enemy. I was assaulted with millions of doubts that created a chasm of hesitation and excuses for such. Furthermore, I was able to feed those negative thoughts healthily with my ever-present dire financial situation. Though I realized I was prolonging the inevitable and in doing so, I was only harming myself. I was shutting the door on my future.
I couldn't say what set my determination in place, what locked my resolve to forge ahead with school but I believe it was a mixture of the difficulty I've had to find another job and the all too pressing knowledge that now my future, more than ever, is spreading out before me emptily. I have never had a five year plan, I have led my life hand-to-mouth and though for past circumstances such was the best approach, I know full well that going forward with school is my best option. I can no longer fly by the seat of my pants when it comes to my tomorrow. I need to plan and organize and apply myself heart and soul to see those goals to fruition.
With that said, I quieted my doubts with a firm hand and toured Southeast Community College yesterday. And being in that building with students laying on benches waiting for their next class and others in the common area with their laptops finishing assignments, I felt like I had returned to a safe place. I know, absolutely, that I wanted to be one of them and that for a short sixteen months, I wanted to belong to their club.
Now, I know a community college doesn't sound all that scholarly but my plan is to become a full-time student to then graduate from the Surgical Technician program within a short amount of time. Once I graduate, I want to work in my chosen field, which I have to tell you excites me beyond belief as I feel I will really enjoy my work, get the rest of my life in order, especially financially and help my parents out. And once I buy the house and car I've been meaning to collect, I will go back to school and attain a Bachelor's degree in a related field.
That is my 5+ plan and having it out in the open feels incredible. I can not put into words the different strands of excitement and anticipation that are coursing through me now. I'm well aware that my financial situation has not changed (in all honesty, it is now worse) and that I need to figure out how I'm going to be paying for Life while I go to school and soon. But I feel that my resourceful nature will kick in and that I will wiggle my way into a way of life come January that will allow me to do this, even if it will be tight.
After my tour yesterday, I immediately applied for admission as a returning Student (I attended less than a semester back in 2005) and came straight home to complete my FAFSA. The FAFSA deadline for the quarter of Winter 2010 was October 1st so my financial aid might not be as broad as it would have been had I gotten on the ball sooner but I believe that everything happens for a reason and this rush, this working under pressure with deadlines weighing on my shoulder is a good push in the right direction for me.
From what I can tell, I'll know the results of my application for financial aid by the end of this week, the middle of next week by the latest. This puts me under some pressure because if something comes up negatively, I'll have even less time to find financing elsewhere. In addition, I feel like I'm racing the clock to get everything ready for the beginning of classes. And yes, I am being optimistic in assuming everything will go smoothly so that I can even register come December. But there is class registration (which I thankfully picked out yesterday after filling out my FAFSA), buying books &supplies and a new laptop, hopefully, because this one is about to die soon, I can feel it.
Despite all of this, I'm excited to take notes, attend lectures, do labs, spend countless hours in the library and wasting half hours away in the Student Center waiting for my next class. I'm also really goofy about socializing and brushing with people daily that have the same interests as I do. Really, I just want to make new friends. I'm stoked about getting out of the house and doing something productive, chipping away at my goals a day at a time. Amazingly, I'm happy at the idea of waking up late one day and having to go to class in my pajamas.
I am through the roof because I finally have direction, I have a chance to move forward and leave my rut behind. I'm finally a college student. I pray that all goes well for me in the coming weeks because I'm so close I can taste it.
|
|
| Pumpkin 2009! |
[02 Nov 2009|05:51pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 annoyed |
] |
The subject choice is shocking for me, I know. Love you, MJ. <3
Pumpkins were god awful this year . I apologize that the pumpkin does not have a light in it. I was able to gut it but it was rotting so quickly that I could not go back to carve more out of the front wall, to make it see-thru, because it was already mushy and pretty much ready for the garbage. I only had it a few days! :(
|
|
| Thoughts: This Is It |
[01 Nov 2009|06:26pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 thankful |
] |
I had the complete pleasure of seeing Michael Jackson's This Is It Friday night. As expected, I was blown away. I was utterly fascinated, totally captivated. I could not peel my gaze from the screen for even a second. This documentary is truly a special gift, and I am so glad that the Michael Jackson Estate was able to pull the strings required to make it happen, along with AEG Live. I know they must have had their doubts, but the film is receiving rave reviews from everyone and I am sure they have no regrets now. You have never seen anything like this film. At no point has a film of strictly rehearsals ever been released. Fans, myself included, may still feel depressed that these concerts are never to be... but at least we have been able to see this footage, all that was leading up to the fifty shows. It is, as they say, better than nothing; never has this phrase held more truth.
There is only one main way to describe this film: bittersweet. You will walk away with mixed emotions, both happy and sad. My heart was going to burst. I had no idea whether I was floating or whether I was in pain. I came to the conclusion that it was both.
Although I truly respect and admire dancers, I barely noticed they were there; I was just so focused on Michael and it really is hard to pay attention to anything else once he takes the stage. All of the special effects, props and backdrops were brilliant... but they paled in comparison to Michael's charisma and magic. This man was truly a masterpiece of humanity. The film undoubtedly highlights his perfectionism and there are flashes of his sense of humor. During quite a few scenes, the audience collectively laughed at Michael's intense need to have everything "just so" and even at his humble, grateful attitude in place of arrogant celebrity demands. Although I already knew the kind, humane side of Michael, I understand why critics are saying this film makes him a little more human. It shows just how truly kind-hearted he was. You see him encouraging his dancers and musicians, telling them it is their "time to shine." You see the dancers completely humbled to be in his presence, crying just talking about being one of the lucky ones who get to perform with an artist they grew up listening to and admiring. In this film, we see Michael's dedication to not only his own craft but to the production of his concerts as a whole. "That is why we rehearse," he repeats throughout the film. So particular, so in tune with everything around him. He seemed to possess an entirely new level of perception that none of us can even imagine.
Although I enjoyed every number, I must say... Michael during "Billie Jean"'s instrumental solo seemed to light up the screen just like old times. The handful of dancers and crew members watched, completely mesmerized, cheering and whistling. The boys were pumping their fists in the air, a sign of admiration and acceptance. I was on the edge of my seat waiting for the moonwalk at the moment in the song he always does it, but it never came. I was disappointed, but I figured there was a reason he did not want to do it. Michael was always good at leaving the audience wanting more. You never know with Michael because he is so brilliant no matter what, but he appeared to be somewhat improvising and not necessarily rehearsing steps he had rehearsed before. And it was so amazing. My god. He was slick, he was sexy (hel-lo, pelvis waves), he was undeniably genius. It was just over one minute of absolute bliss, that solo.
I loved, so much, what they were going to do with "Earth Song." Beautiful imagery. Michael on the "cherry picker" was absolutely adorable; the man knew no fear. When Michael was asked how he would know when to give his cue to the band without watching the screen changes, he matter-of-factly said, "I'll feel that." And for whatever reason, you believed him. Michael could surely sense things better without his eyes; rhythm and beat and knowledge when to do what was just within him, always. "Smooth Criminal" was missing the anticipated anti-gravity lean, but I really loved the new rendition of this song and its opening. We saw the "Beat It" body wave, oh yes, we did. I feel while these concerts were going to be new and innovative, they still would have contained some classic MJ. There were some moments in this film every fan was waiting to see, one last time. It was so great to see him in the Thriller dance again; I am glad they had footage of him doing it. The 3D sequence was absolutely amazing! The costumes, make-up and props were just outstanding. He was so cute with his oversized jacket and pajama-like bottoms, dancing by himself during the "Threatened" zombie solo. (I absolutely loved all of his outfits in these rehearsals. I was excited with each one that appeared.)
I tried to keep it together throughout the film, going in with ill hopes of being able to, and I was okay until "Man in the Mirror." I have no idea what it is about that song, but I cannot listen to it without my eyes welling up at some point. It is a phenomenal song but there is something extra powerful and emotional about it that always tugs at my heart strings, especially when I hear it sung live. I had a smile plastered on my face through the remainder of the film, and I did not care how ridiculous I looked. I was so taken by this film and what it had to offer. I am even more pleased there was absolutely no focus on any tabloid junk and not even a mention of his death. It was just a celebration of a genius at work. They really need to be commended for creating something this special, focused only on Michael and his ability to be one of the greatest entertainers in history.
Some of the best parts were when you saw Michael unable to keep from smiling while he is singing. It was so clear, despite all rumours and nonsense about ill health, that he wanted to be there and that he was happy. Like every piece of concert footage I have ever seen, it is undeniable that Michael was in his element while on stage... even in rehearsals, it seems. He had such a great passion for music, and he was so intensely focused on chiseling and perfecting his craft. If I begin to imagine, for even a second, what it would have been like just to be in the same room as that man, my eyes glaze over. At one point in the film, Michael says: "That's why I write these kind of songs. It gives some sense of awareness and awakening and hope to people." And that is why I love his music so much; it actually means something, it actually carries important messages to people all over the world. It is not merely entertainment to him or to his fans. Michael wrote and performed music to say something important about love, life, dreams, charity, children, animals, the planet. He never lost this part of himself, ever. It always meant something.
Director and producer Kenny Ortega--after seeing this, a man clearly in tune with Michael's needs and someone very dedicated to his well-being--describes the film as "a little backstage pass, a little private peak into the creative process of a great genius." And that is really what this is. We get to see the creative process as well as the so-close-to-finished pieces. There is no doubt in anyone's mind, whether you are a fan or not, that those London shows would have been spectacular. The world has certainly missed out on what would have been some of the greatest shows of all time. I am just so glad we were able to get a glimpse of what it would have been like...
At least we have this.
"It's all for love. L-o-v-e." --Michael Jackson
|
|
| Sweeter than heaven / hotter than hell |
[30 Oct 2009|09:09am] |
This upcoming holiday is something that has always eluded my grasp. I understand the sheer euphoria that can come with Halloween and sometimes, I look at costume parties and the gory glee a little enviously but being the child of the cultures and traditions that surround my family, Halloween is not a holiday on my calendar, at least not in the American sense.
My paternal grandparents are from the Canary Islands and throughout the Ledo lineage, Siboney caciques grace and color our customs. We have never been a religious family, in the orthodox manner of speaking, though we have been called realist spiritualists and that phrase has always been tinged with disgust and a lack of understanding which is one of the reasons I never speak of my own personal beliefs or experiences with my version of Faith.
We are an ancestral tree marked with Voodoo Priestesses and tribal healers, village soothsayers and New Age believers before it was known as such. We are superstitious and speak of the dead in hushed tones. We wear white to funerals and pour rum over graves and dance for them as they no longer are able to. We never speak of ghost stories outside of our circles but at home, with our own, out come the times when we have felt brushes and seen shadows of the past. We wrap our dead in lace and linen and respect their bones, covering their eyes with flowers and placing coins in the palms of their hands.
And though death brings those left living grief, we celebrate life and we celebrate the end of life as the beginnings of peace. Death is something that is not fodder for humor or play and only those of us seriously Americanized have ever gone trick or treating or dressed up the 31st of October, just to see what it was like.
When I was younger, the last day of October was always a day of cleaning, of cleansing. We wore dark colors with wide yellow sashes around our waists or arms and we cleaned the house, sprayed down the driveways and filled the house with flowers and candles. And after the traditional early evening showers, we would slip into our virginal white clothes, spritz scents loved by our dead and gather around on the porch outside to pay our respects.
When I was little, I can remember laying on my father's lap in my simple white cotton dress as my mom sat across from us on the back lawn with a wide lace shawl wrapped around her shoulders and a white lace panuelo wrapped about her head, hiding her hair as an ancient version of homage. My mom would hum songs just about lost over the generations and Dad would tell us the times that his eyesight opened up to what a great majority of society does not see. And my mother would stop humming to share some of her moments, as well.
I remember the first times I saw the dead on my own, the first time I told my father that I was gifted with his sight. The first time he explained to me, patiently, the traditions of my family. The meaning of the altar in the corner of our living room, of why I wore the gold necklace with a saint's face and a small rubies embedded in her eyes. The fact that yes, I was named after a Brazilian soap opera but that my great-aunt was also an Isaura and that she was revered in her skills in santeria blanca and so I had been aptly named.
I was very young when I was told of these things, these practices and customs of my family, that are not only practiced on the last days of October and the first days of November, but almost daily. Though I understand the fun and games this holiday brings, I am my father's daughter and so I respect this day as I have seen and experienced things that defy explanation and that takes more than faith to swallow.
My family is a lively group, we laugh too loud, drink too much and love too hard but tomorrow, we are silent for those who can no longer laugh, drink nor love. Tomorrow, we cast our eyes down in silent thoughts. It is not a holiday, it is a day of rest. Not for us, but for them. We do not visit their graves as that is something that should be done regularly, regardless. We do not sing for them, nor do we set out feasts on our tables for them to satisfy their hungers. We gather around and with the strength of our collective energies, whatever they left behind comes alive after midnight. We are spiritual enough to fear that which goes bump in the dark and that is too ingrained in me to be American about it.
|
|
| Sweeter than heaven / Hotter than hell |
[26 Oct 2009|11:50pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Florence + The Machine - Howl.mp3 |
] |
I keep meaning to write here, I do. The urge strikes and a topic illuminates itself in the dark recesses of my addled mind but all the energy seeps through my fingers, spills into less fruitful endeavors. Sporadically, I write in my paper journal and what comes out, I find, is a useless deluge of drivel. I first cracked its pages hoping to gather the edges of myself and tie them where they belong, properly, but my daily life is so mundane, yet so aggressive, that such a quest is hard to maintain.
My goal is to synchronize the girl I am inside to the stranger that looks back at me from a reflective surface. My shadows are not mine and this I feel to the very core and if I wake up fast enough, I feel a sense of dissonance that is hard to reconcile. I look at my limbs and feel as I've been swallowed whole, alive, by a monster. I am the soul inside of a different host and there is work to be done if I am to weave through the illusions and reach my truth.
I need to be stronger than the forces around me and that seems too daunting of a task. Too impossible to even ask of myself. I'm not ready yet. But I am frantic as I feel like I'm running out of time.
I wanted to wage this war when I had had some rest, some time to recover though the faster the days go by, the more I'm convinced that this is a battle I will have to enter already maimed, already broken.
I hope I work well under pressure again.
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
|
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
killthemachine's Friends Page