Fat Chance

When I was in college, I took a sociology class where, in addition to the usual homework and tests, we had to write four papers.  The theme was the same - how certain characteristics of our upbringing affected who we had become - but we had to focus on a different topic for each paper: gender, race/ethnic heritage, socioeconomic status, and birth order.  It sounds cliche, but I really did learn a lot about myself from doing this exercise.  However, one topic that was NOT addressed, but had a huge impact on who I am today is weight.

Weight.

Like a lot of women I know, I have never been satisfied with mine no matter what it is.

I went on my first diet in elementary school.

My nickname when I was little was a filipino slang term for "chubby." I know my parents meant it as a term of endearment (chubby kids are cute, after all), but it still gave me a label very early on that I tried to overcome.  For me, it was hard enough being one of the only non-white kids in my neighborhood.  I didn't really want to have to deal with being the fat asian kid on top of it.

Those rolls! Cute when you're a toddler, but...

Judging

Just before Spring Break [side note: living in a college town means measuring time by semesters and breaks], I was able to partake in one of the rare joys of being immersed in a college atmosphere.

I judged a talent show.

Now call me old fashioned, but my first thoughts when I hear the words "talent show" are of my first grade solo routine to "Funkytown" choreographed by my then-11 year old sister.  Well...either that or the kid who sang "The Gambler" every single year of elementary school (and perhaps even into middle school) complete with his clear green visor.

BUT I am not that naive, and I know that Talent Shows these days...and in this atmosphere...are far more along the lines of, say wet t-shirt contests in Cabo than Mr. Wizard magic sets that cost $19.99 at Toys R Us.

And so there I was, front row center, flanked by three of the University's finest athletes.

Judging.

So. much. judging.

The heart of it all

I had a blog post all set to go about New Year's Resolutions (and my inability to keep the one that I really tried to keep this year - blogging more often).  It was, in my opinion, somewhat funny, something people could find commonality in, but overall, something that I hoped would entertain.  The problem is that it was taking me WAY too long to finish.  I started it the week after New Year's Day and I kept abandoning it and coming back. I couldn't really get it just right, and it was really bothering me.

Then it hit me. I realized that I was having such a hard time with it because I have been getting away from the reason that I started this blog.

Wrap it up

The semester is over, the year is almost up and I'm just realizing that this blog is almost one year old! Well... one year from when I remembered that I had a blog. :)

I have been less active this semester and I'm really really going to try harder next year to do more than one post per month.  I'm not sure if it's that I'm just used to the shenanigans of students so I don't feel the need to vent about it as much, or if I'm getting apathetic, or even if it's just that I'm more patient.

Truth be told, the semester kind of flew by for me.  I am regretful that I feel like I didn't connect with this semester's class as well as in the past and that has kind of bugged me. I'm still trying to pinpoint why it worked out that way and why it bugs me so much.

I've also been very aware of how quickly people are coming into and going from my life, especially students.  Again, this is the nature of the job and working in an academic environment, but unlike friends from childhood, high school, college or post-college life, it will be difficult to keep up with most of them.  We're not Facebook friends, we don't follow each other on Twitter, and most of them will move on and not look back.

I am insanely curious to know how they're all going to end up.  I know that when I was a senior in college, I never could have predicted my life would have gone the way that it has...

I may not have known where I was going to live, but I knew where I didn't want it to be (the north or a big city, obviously)

...and I was SO SURE of what I wanted out of life,

...and who I wanted to be with,

...and of course NONE of that really worked out the way that I thought.

Loss and love

Well, it's already the end of the semester and I can't believe that I've been so sparse with my blogging. I will try harder next semester! And it's not a crazy story about student apathy that's driving me to blog this time...it's unfortunately another untimely goodbye to an old friend.

Just a few hours ago, I got back from my up-and-back drive to Richmond to bid farewell to Marlo.  She is someone that could most accurately be described as a family friend, but she was so much more.

A few blog posts have addressed my childhood and being raised in the filipino community in Richmond in the 70's and 80's, including this one as a tribute to my friend and "sister" A.  That post also gives you a small taste of what it was like to grow up with this "family."

It can be hard, even for ProMo, to understand the ties that I have with my Richmond filipino family, especially since I don't go home often.  In fact since my parents moved away in 2003, I've only been back a handful of times at best.  And since I graduated from high school in the early 90's, there are a bunch of families who have moved in, kids who have grown up, and bonds that appear stronger...and very well may be.   But all it takes for me is to go back to the church I grew up in and see all my "aunties" to feel like that little awkward kid with the coke bottle glasses surrounded by love, laughter and lots and lots of food.