I Hate Stanford

I learned to hate Stanford since birth. I grew up a Cal fan. I lived through Cal futility as they lost the Big Game 7 years in a row. I thought I had divorced myself from my Stanford woes by going to UCLA, but I was wrong. They derailed UCLA football on their last run for a national championship in 2001. Stanford haunts my existence. As great as this football season has been, I have always been wary, telling my friends to hold their emotions, "...until the beat Stanford." Then, and only then, would I start believing.

My friends... start believing.

Changing Times

Is it just me, or God decide to stack my life with with more life-changing experiences in the the last six months than the four years preceding it? Just to review, in the last six months my cousin passed away, I graduated from college, started my first full-time job, my sister gets married (and I get a brother-in-law), and now, my cousin Gab, the closest person to an older brother I ever had, is a dad.

I want to say this is the first time I had ever seen a newborn at the hospital. I'm the youngest of my family, so I never had the privilege to welcome a baby brother or baby sister into the world. Often the first time I'd see a newborn cousin was at the next family party. And if I ever had come to see a newborn in the hospital, I was probably too young to remember.

But this time was different. This was the first time that someone I grew up with had a kid. I remember when Gab's family would visit my family in the Bay Area. It was always exciting when they visited because they were the only cousins who were older that were in the States. The most memorable things Gab introduced me to: spider-fighting and Nintendo. My favorite Gab quote: "my farts smell like cologne."

But as with all of us, we grew up. So it was somethin' to see Sunday afternoon at Cedars-Sinai. I saw Gab there holding his daughter, but it wasn't the same person I knew. He transformed. Maybe that's what happens when you see a first-born. Gab and his wife became parents. When my cousins first saw their niece, they became aunties. My aunt & uncle: they became grandparents. And I changed too. I saw my future. And knowing how quickly Gab changed in the last few years, it's a future that feels like it's fast coming.

Maybe that's what the last six months are supposed to teach me. That life happens. And it waits for no one. And it wasn't until I got my head out of my textbooks and actually looked up to realize how fast it changes. And the realization has left me humbled and dizzy, wondering where this life will lead me, and praying that I'm aware enough not to miss it.

So I leave this message for Gab. Congratulations, man. First a husband, now a father. Both those roles suit you well. I've followed you since we were little, and my path diverged from yours as we tried to find ourselves, I find myself looking back to your example for guidance. You've become quite the man, and for that I give the utmost admiration and respect. I wish you and Jill well on this next phase of your lives...

...hopefully, with better smelling cologne.

Cracked

It encapsulates how I feel in so many ways:

1. It describes how I'm feeling after a crazy weekend of flying, singing, seeing family, moving, unpacking, and starting my new shift at 6:30 in the morning. Somewhere in the middle of all that I forgot out of my health, and now I sit here writing with a runny nose, a slight temperature, and a mentality one could only describe as "cracked" out.
   
   
2. It describes the state of my perception of family. Allow me to explain...
   
   This weekend saw the coming together of two incredibly beautiful people: my sister and her now-husband. Needless to say, the whole weekend was amazing, from the beautiful and unique wedding ceremony at my alma mater, to the wedding reception that included one of the coolest kali demonstrations I've ever seen (really, imagine going into mortal combat facing this woman!), to finally having the opportunity to sing to my family after 5 years of training from the UCLA music department. There are too many wonderful things to describe about this weekend; I'll just leave it to my dedicated readers to follow the links to learn more.
   
   Anyway, whenever I would describe the wedding to my friends in LA, I kept making a mistake. I kept referring to the groom as my sister's fiance. But he's not anymore. He's my brother-in-law. I've never had a brother of any kind before. And that's what's cracked.
   
   For my entire life, when someone's asked me about my family, I've always defined it as my parents, my two sisters, and a boatload of aunts, uncles, and cousins. That's the way it's been for years. And in one sense, nothing's changed. My sister will still bring the same guy to the family parties, they'll act pretty much the same as always, and our relationships will grow the same as they always have.
   
   But in my family, marriage isn't just about committing yourself to that one person alone. In this family, marriage is a commitment to the ENTIRE FAMILY. To get married into this family, you MUST love the family, and the family must love you. Thus, the groom isn't just my sister's boyfriend anymore, nor my sister's fiance, nor my sister's husband. He's not just my sister's. He's MY brother-in-law. He's my parents' son. He's one of the cousins. He's pledged his life to my family, including me, and that's left me, well, cracked.
   
   It's difficult to explain. I guess I'm used to the mentality that you have to constantly prove yourself to others in order to have a relationship with them. But with this marriage, no one needs to prove anything; love is just given and received. The more I think about it, the more I'm moved, and I wonder how many opportunities I've wasted to just give love, or have agonized over my own worth to receive it. It leaves me bewildered, and in a confusing, emotional brew of regret, hope, uncertainty, joy, and confusion. In one word, cracked.
   
   
3. Related to the wedding, I don't think I've had as great a time with family as I did this weekend. I caught up with the sisters and their significant others. And while our reunion was joyous, it left me a little sad, for in our discussions, I realized how much I was missed at home. They would tell me about their adventures with the family, and as we'd laugh, they'd say "we wished you were there".
   
   It made for a difficult flight back to Los Angeles, wondering what I was missing in the Bay Area. And yet, for all the family moments I missed, there was so much I gained in LA. At UCLA, I learned how to emcee and work as large a crowd as my family. At UCLA, I learned to build community through enthusiasm and energy. At UCLA, I learned how to act and sing with skill, precision, and passion. For every moment I was gone, I was learning something new that I brought back home. Now that I've graduated, I have to ask myself what exactly do I bring home now, so that my absence isn't in vein. I'm confident that I'm doing what's best in staying in Los Angeles, but knowing what I'm missing at home is a blessing and a burden.
   
   When in confusing times like these, I turn to my improv training. Improv Rule #1: Always commit. I might be a little dazed and confused in LA, but you know what, I'm here for at least another nine months, so I better learn as much as I can down here. I'll need to if we're going to top the experience we had last weekend.
   

So after all this writing, I've learned one thing. It's not so bad to be cracked. So here's to being cracked. You can't break out of your shell any other way.

Moving Sale!!!!

Just to let you know, I have two tables in excellent condition for sale. They need to be gone by THURSDAY, OCTOBER 6TH! I have a very nice computer table for sale ($50) and a semi-long coffee table ($10), $55 for both, and at your request, you can have a cute little IKEA side table absolutely free!

Please email me at rundmb[at]gmail[dot]com if you are interested.

Hurry, supplies are limited.