My Blog Moves...Again!

So it's been a few weeks since my last post in which I mentioned that I would perhaps be making some drastic changes to my blog.  In the end, those changes did indeed include a move on over to a new blog with a new purpose and [hopefully] a new overall feel.

Now that things are mostly set up over there, I wanted to welcome you all to head on over there and follow me as I take some new -- and very welcome -- steps in my life.  I'm hoping to get back in the groove of commenting, so if I've been absent from your blog comments lately, expect to see me again soon!

Follow me at:

http://girlheartslife.blogspot.com/ 

This will officially be my last post at P&P!  :)

On a Little Hiatus

So as you may have noticed, I haven't been much of a blogger lately.  I've been reading blogs like crazy, believe me, but I feel like there's just been so much going on -- and so much that will continue to go on over the next month or so -- that it's left me with no drive to write.

And as a would-be writer, let me tell you, it sucks.

But there it is, so I wanted to address it.  I also wanted to give you all an update on the things that have been going on since my last post, and what I anticipate to be going on in Kaheaville until this blog picks up again (which it will, in one form or another).  Here goes:

• After my grandpa passed away, I took a look at things in my life and decided that it just wasn't good enough.  I wasn't taking care of myself, or those I loved.  I wasn't pushing forward toward my goals.  I was wasting my time.  So I decided to stop it, and I made some changes.  Since then, things have been good, to say the least.  I let myself grieve (which is something new), and then I forced myself to focus on me and the things I wanted to be and do.  This is something I highly suggest, as it turns out.
• My amazing internship came and went in a blur of awesomeness.  It's given me a lot to think about in terms of what I want a possible career for myself to look like and I've definitely got some planning to do.  Because I quit the toxic job prior to my internship and am still jobless in terms of full-time work, I'll be continuing on at the organization as a volunteer until I find employment.
• I'm looking for employment.  And it's been difficult not to just apply for the positions I maybe know I'd get but definitely know I don't want...simply because I need the money.  I'm trying to hold out for something that's right though, something I don't dread doing day in and day out.  I just hope it comes along soon.
• Does anyone have any advice about getting started as a freelance writer?
• Nate and I went on a road trip from Lexington, KY to Boston, MA, with stops along Virginia's Blue Ridge Parkway, Shenandoah National Park, Philadelphia, New York City, and Cape Cod along the way.  It was my first trip to the East Coast and it was bloody HOT.  I'm from Hawaii and we still don't have heat and humidity like that.  
• During our East Coast trip, I got to visit with some friends in NYC who inspired me, yet again, to focus more on my health.  And this time, it feels like it's gonna stick.  I've been a week back from the trip and have completely changed my diet and have begun exercising daily.  I even signed up for my first 5k since high school!
• One of the other catalysts for this health overhall happened in Cape Cod.  While there, we stayed at the Bluefish B&B (which I completely recommend a thousand times over) and our innkeepers had left Food Inc. in our room to watch if we were interested.  I've never watched it before, so I pop it in one night.  And I'm sobbing like, 15 minutes in.  If you haven't watched it, go ahead.  It's something we all need to see.
• Finally, with my life sort of taking this new, unexpected and very welcome turn, I'm thinking of making some pretty big changes to this blog, or the new blog I'll create to migrate this one over to.  There are a lot of things I need to consider before doing that, though, including questions like whether I should move over to Wordpress, or what the main focus of the blog will be, not to mention its name...

So this is just a taste of what I'll be doing until we talk here (or on the new, as yet to be created, blog) again.  I'll still be around though, commenting on your posts and adding my two sense to the Twitterverse.

Until then.  xoxo.

From Quarterlife Crisis to Identity Crisis

I've been thinking a lot about identity lately and what it means when you finally take a look at yourself and realize that you're no longer the person you once thought you were or were always going to be.  For me, this really breaks down into two main facets: where I come from (physically), and where I come from (ethnically).

Being from Hawaii and being native Hawaiian is an incredible thing because the place I grew up is also where I can trace my ethnic identity.  It's where my people come from.  It's where they fought ancient battles and had their religious ceremonies, it's where they were colonized and turned into second-class citizens.  The land itself is intrinsically connected to the native Hawaiian culture, religion, way of life.  And with that identity comes this responsibility -- driven into me by my education at a private boarding school for native Hawaiian kids -- to give back, to serve my community, to make a difference as a native Hawaiian for native Hawaiians.

The thing is...I left.  Ever since I was a little girl I knew I was going to leave one day.  It was something I looked forward to, this opportunity to see the world and experience something so very different from the sand box that was Hawaii to me.  And so when I was 18, I lit out of there as fast as I could and I didn't look back.  I could do that because in my head and my heart, I was always headed back there eventually.  I didn't know when -- it's gone from moving back in my late twenties to early thirties to early forties to when I finally retire -- but I was going to move "home" one day.

And that idea of Hawaii being "home" has been the reason that was possible.  You see, Hawaii is a beautiful place, but it's not an easy place to live as an outsider.  If you don't belong, you're made to feel that way.  It's a very insular community, whether that's admitted or not.  And for the longest time, I knew I belonged to that community, I knew I belonged to Hawaii.  But lately, that's changed.  Over the passed couple of years, little things have been happening to make me acknowledge the fact that...maybe I don't belong to it anymore.  For the most part, those little things have been external, they've been things that have been said to me by others, or the ways others have made me feel.  Because I'm beginning to be treated like an outsider by my own community.  My skin isn't dark enough anymore; my accent isn't thick enough; I'm educated so I think I'm better than everyone; I don't speak my language or practice traditional native Hawaiian culture so I don't understand its needs; I've been gone so long that I don't know Hawaii anymore.  And as recently as yesterday, one of my closest friends treated me like I wasn't native Hawaiian, I hadn't grown up there, I didn't have a clue about how to help with the issues we face, and I therefore had no right to try and serve my community.

And I know I shouldn't let anyone tell me who I am, but sometimes that's easier said than done.

So all of this just got me thinking about who I am now, and if I ever truly want to go home again.  It seems like a simple enough thing -- people move away from home all the time.  But, for me, the question of where I live, where I consider home, is so wrapped up in who I was taught to be, who I thought I was, the responsibilities I was told were mine.

And I just don't know anymore.

A Recap

To say that the past month has been a blessing and a struggle all wrapped into a few weeks would probably be the understatement of my life.  As the bff Kaimi said in the midst of it all: "That's a lot of shit happening in not a  lot of time."  And as I said to everyone else: "When it rains, it fucking pours."

So here's the recap:

• Week 1: One Tuesday night at around 9pm, Nate and I are sort of sitting around doing nothing when I notice that my dog's leg is bleeding.  I look closer and there's a growth on his leg that he's started to chew at (I know, gross, right?).  Given the track record we have with growths on dogs legs -- and the fact that Nate's last dog died because of one -- we immediately rush Finn to the emergency pet hospital.  We're there until about midnight when Finn is released.  They've taken care of the bleeding but tell us to check in with our regular vet about the growth as it could be cancerous.  Awesome.  Also, Finn was up all night long whining in pain and bumping his e-collar around the bedroom.  No sleep.
• Week 2: On Wednesday I quit my job.  On Thursday I started my new internship.
• Week 3: On Monday we take Finn into our vet and they operate on his leg.  The tumor is removed but because of the amount of blood vessels attached to it, the vet's worried that it is in fact cancerous.  I considered hysteria at this point.  We wait all week for test results that don't come.  And then on Friday I get a phone call from my mother at 8:30am.  My grandfather -- the cornerstone of my family and one of the loves of my life -- has passed away.  Cue hysteria now.
• Week 4: I'm in shock.  And when I'm not in shock, I'm a wreck.  With the help of Nate I scrape up enough money to buy a plane ticket home for the services over the weekend.  The Thursday before I leave, I'm at my internship when Nate calls.  Unexpected phone calls have begun to make me hyperventilate but I answer it anyway.  Our house was broken into.  Again.  I leave for my grandfather's funeral on Friday.  Saturday is the worst day of my life.
• Week 5: We find out Finn's tumor is not cancerous.

The thing I have to say about this time in my life is that it's amazing what we think we're too weak to handle, and then the amount to which we can surprise ourselves.  Had all of this occurred six months ago, things would be different.  I was in such a different place in my life and in my mind that I'm not sure how I would have coped, if I would have let others support me as much as they have, if I would have relied on my faith as much as I have been.

It's made me a firm believer that things happen the way they're supposed to happen, even if we can't understand that while we're standing in the midst of a crisis.  And that we are not presented with anything we can't handle.

At this point, I think I could handle it all.  Blindfolded.

In Loving Memory

Papa 
(February 26, 1926 - June 10, 2011)
There are no words to express how much I love you and miss you.  Thank you for everything.

The Long Departure

The first thing you should know when you read this post is that I've never quit anything in my life, ever.  Except for maybe ballet and piano, but I was like, six so that doesn't really count.  I mean, I think I've dropped a grand total of maybe three classes during all my years of education combined.  I've never downright failed at anything either (though the way this has affected my tendency to not try new things for fear of failure is for a new post altogether).  All my life, I've been an above-average student -- until law school -- and a pretty damn good employee.

But I guess there comes a time in everyone's life where that just isn't going to fly anymore.  Enter my current job as an Executive Assistant.

At the start of May, I officially gave my boss notice that June 1st will be my last day at our organization.  And though I've been thinking this through for a while, talking it over with Nate, making plans and preparations so I'm not left wallowing in a pit of unemployed misery, let me tell you, I really thought I was going to puke for the entire week leading up to that conversation.

But the meeting went as well as can be expected I guess when you blindside your boss during what's probably the busiest two months of our year and tell him that he'll be left high and dry and assistant-less in a month.  He asked if there was anything he could do to make me stay.  I said no.  He said that while he wasn't happy about it, he understood.  I said thanks, and I'm sorry.

Truthfully, on some level, I am sorry.  And there's definitely a fair amount of guilt I feel, but that's more because I'm just the type of person that will feel guilty for the fact that it's raining rather than because I should feel guilty about something.  This job just wasn't a fit for me.  It wasn't a fit in ways that a size 3 shoe isn't the right fit for a size 7 foot: so, it wasn't a fit in colossal ways.  And that made it an unhappy place, a draining place and, in the last few months, a pretty toxic place for me.  I came to despise everything about my job and who I was while I was at it and the fact that that person followed me home and became the person I was here in my safe haven too.  This job made me feel like I had nothing going for me, nothing to look forward to other than a paycheck every other week.  It didn't require me to use any skills I thought I possessed, it gave me no indication of what value I held and it just made me feel...useless.

So I finally got up the courage -- and put enough plans in motion --  to quit.

And since that day, I've felt so...liberated. Scared, yes, definitely.  The fear factor is pretty much through the roof at all times.  After all, how will I survive once the money I've saved runs out?  I can't rely on Nate forever, and there's no telling when I'll find another job.  And what about health insurance?  What about paying off my credit card debt?  What about paying my student loans?  What about being a responsible adult, sucking it up, and sticking this job out?  What about all the millions of things you need a paying job to do???

So I'm really, really scared.

But still, nothing compares to having a set date when this job will be over, when the stress of the everyday drudgery will be done, when I won't have to wake up in the morning wondering how I'm going to fail at something or forget something else today.  It's truly like a physical weight is slowly being lifted from my shoulders.  It's incredible.  I finally feel like my life is starting to move again.

And at this point, movement is all I'm looking for.

If My House Were On Fire

Yesterday, Kaimi (over at amor fati) sent me a link for a pretty cool blog called The Burning House.  The whole idea of the blog is for people to name things they would take with them if their house were on fire.  Would you take things of the most monetary value?  The most sentimental value?  The most practical?  We thought this was such a great idea that that we decided to do our own "if my house were on fire" posts.  Enjoy!

(Also, kudos if you can name the movie that talks about what you would grab if you had just enough time before your "60 seconds were up" and your house was on fire!)

Close up:

• Nate and Finn, obviously, though I'd hope they could run out themselves
• Koa box holding my irreplaceable jewelry, including my Hawaiian heirloom pieces
• Journals
• A flash drive that pretty much holds my entire computer, including my writing and publications
• Albums of family photos
• Pictures of my entire family
• iPod
• Passport
• Favorite pair of sweats that I swiped from the boyfriend
• Plastic files that hold all keepsake items from my travels
• Joy Equation
• Pencil holder my little sister made me when she was in high school
• Pink box of relationship mementos (includes: 100 paper cranes Nate made me, drawings he's done for me, a poem he wrote me on our 1st anniversary, etc.)
• Converse shoes (the most comfortable shoes in the world)
• Multi-colored throw blanket that my great-grandmother knitted
• Phone
• Wallet that holds my ID

So...what would you take?

Blogging Through My Debt: Goals Reached and Uncertainty Ahead

I've been on this journey to get out of my financially crushing credit card debt for nearly 2 years now.  But I've earnestly been on this journey to get out of my financially crushing credit card debt for only about 5 and a half months.  That's because, before January, I don't think I was really doing everything I possibly could to get myself out of debt.  Though I had cut my spending, I still shopped.  And though I made my monthly payments, those payments were never large enough to pay more than my accumulated interest.

And then at the end of the 2010 and the beginning of 2011, I started to really think about my future.  About growing up and buying for quality instead of quantity, about saving for things like a wedding and retirement, about one day owning a home, and about traveling without practically breaking my credit card in two trying to do it.  And I realized that I seriously needed a financial make-over if I was going to accomplish any of that.  I needed to get out of debt.

So that's when shit got real.

And what do you know?  When I really try, when I really put my mind to something and work at it, things start happening.  Because as of a few days ago, my credit card balance has looked like this:

Now I know this may not look that impressive, especially considering that I'm still almost $12k in debt.  But, that number used to be a lot higher when my Platinum and VS cards didn't read $0.00.

And so I've officially reached my second Blogging Through My Debt goal: I've paid off my Small Credit Card.  

Unfortunately, while in any other normal circumstances this would mean that all that money previously being funneled into paying off numerous cards could now be spent on just one, that's not the case for me.  Because I've recently put in my notice that I'm leaving my job and, as of June 1st, I'll be unemployed and will have no income to speak of.

....

Don't you like how I just casually dropped that in as if it weren't a huge deal?

More on the job will come this week, but as far as how much it will affect my getting out of debt...I'm still working on that.  I know the speed of this journey will take a hit, and I'm prepared for that.  I just don't know how big of a hit at this point, and that's really the scariest part.  Because who knows how long it will take for me to find another job?  Who knows how much that other job will pay me?  Who knows what kinds of financial crises can occur between now and then that will send me scrambling to bring the balance up on already-paid off cards?

I just don't know.  But I'm going to worry about that tomorrow.  For today?  I'm going to bask in my accomplishment.

A Quiet Compassion

I don't usually get very political on this blog, and I don't really have the energy (tonight) or the desire (ever) to really start getting political now.  But with the world experiencing so much change lately, with so many conversations both said and unsaid, and because it's all I've been thinking of for the past three days, I'm going to go ahead and talk about it a little.

Now if we can believe everything our government says -- and I'm not saying that we always can or should, but I admit that I usually, sometimes naively, try to give them the benefit of the doubt -- during a clandestine military operation this past weekend, America's Enemy #1, Osama Bin Laden was shot and killed.

I think for the most part, the initial reaction felt by the nation was fairly consistent.  Shock.  Distrust/disbelief.  Belief.  Acceptance.  Relief.  I, for one, definitely went through those stages, feeling each one pretty keenly until finally allowing that feeling of calm relief -- however short-lived it may have been -- wash over me.  I can honestly say that I believe the world is less one more dangerous person. Dangerous in the really get-you-at-your-core sort of way where they're willing to die in order to cause the destruction of others.  That kind of a dangerous person, the kind who acts as if they have almost nothing to lose, scares me the most.

But right on the tails of my relief came other reactions I saw on videos, heard on the news, read online in places I have no excuse for visiting (case in point: Why was I on Sarah Palin's Facebook page again???).  Excitement.  Celebration.  Elation.  Mockery.  Righteousness.  Validation.  People were waving flags.  They were chanting, "USA!  USA!"  They were quoting scripture in one breathe and applauding death in another.

And I was left feeling...confusion.  Disappointment.  Resignation, but no understanding.  I was embarrassed.  I still am embarrassed.  It just seems to me that, over the course of the past 10 years, we've lost sight of something incredibly important as we freely label people as "the enemy" or "other" or "they" or "enemy combatant" and most definitely "terrorist."  We seem to have forgotten that they're human.  That this is human life.  And that no matter who it is or what they've done, the loss of human life is never something to celebrate.  It's never something to be casual about.  If we do, if we are, then we become the very thing we say we're fighting against. 

As Americans, even those of us with military families, we have the luxury of distancing ourselves from the consequences of our actions.  We don't see the costs of our war until it's too late, until our soldiers come back wounded in ways we can't begin to understand, until news reaches us of 12 year old children being blown up by bombs meant for their grandfathers.  Until towers collapse and we lose things we can never get back.  And, given that we've experienced that loss as a nation, and that others have experienced it much closer to home, I can accept that everyone deals with things differently.  That everyone would deal with the news of Bin Laden's death differently.  But this can't be okay. 

Celebrating death can never be okay.  Can it?

There have been a bunch of articles written in the past day or so that seem to express my feelings much better than I myself can.  If you're so inclined, this has been my favorite: "USA!  USA!  is the wrong response"

A Healthy Ambition: The Routine Check-up

Over the past few months, I've obviously fallen off of the healthy train.  In fact, I would probably venture out to say that I jumped off the back of it, stuck a middle finger up as it took off, and began hoofing it in the opposite direction.

Not one of my better decisions.

Why this happened can be attributed to all of the usual suspects: I was too busy, lazy, stressed, lazy, tired, lazy, and so on and so forth.  When I took a look at those reasons, you can guess what the common factor I found was.  I've just been too damn lazy.  As a result, I've been eating humongous portions of food, most of which is white rice and meat products (because I come from Hawaii and that's how we do), I've been avoiding salads like they're going to kill me or something, I've canceled my gym membership (which was more for financial reasons -- that I'll divulge sometime next week -- than anything else), my treadmill has sat abandoned and lonely in the corner as it collects dust and makes me dog a little uneasy, and I've just been...wallowing.

Then I went to see my PCP for my first physical check-up in three years, and all I have to show for my incredibly poor self-care and eating/fitness habits is that I'm a 27 year old with scary-high cholesterol and an increasingly high glucose level, and that if this doesn't change I'm heading for either a heart attack and/or diabetes or cholesterol meds which will make it dangerous/impossible for me to have children.

What.  Have.  I.  Done?!

So, needless to say things are about to change in my world.  Operation "A Healthy Ambition" is way on again and this time I have a little more at stake than fitting into that cute pair of skinny jeans in my closet.  So if any of you out there on the world wide web have any suggestions for recipes, cookbooks, informational books, workouts, etc. that you've really benefited from and would like to share, believe me, I'm all ears.

Here's to a new me.

Our First Place

This will be a short post, mostly because I'm sad and I don't want to think about what I'm thinking about for too long.  But it's here in my head and on the tip of my tongue pretty much all day, so I need to get it out somewhere.

In 2 weeks, Nate and I will be packing up our lives and moving out of our first place together.  And usually you hear about this happening and it's a bittersweet thing -- the couple moves out in order to move on to something bigger and better.  They think about their small, cheap place with tons of charm and smile over it, but they accept that they've grown out of it and it's time to make memories in their next place.

This is not that situation.  Our place is not small, nor is it cheap.  But it does have tons of charm.  It's our perfect first place: 2 bedroom, 1 bath, small-but-not-too-small kitchen with gas range that Nate loves to cook on, bay window looking out into the fenced-in oak-tree-shaded backyard that Finn runs around in, off-street parking, laundry, great landlord, great neighbors, convenient to public transportation, private.  Ours.  We've been here to for 2 years and have made enough memories here that I'm grieving now that we're moving out.

We're moving out to move back in with Nate's mom, to save money so I can get out of debt, so I can take some classes that I've been wanting to take, so we can save money to travel and do the things we've been dreaming of.  And while all of that is amazing and Nate is amazing for even being willing to sacrifice so much for me...I'm still a complete wreck over losing our first place.

It's silly, I know.  It's just an apartment, right?  But it's how I feel.