Well, this blog has been well anticipated, I'm sure. I have to admit - this is the first blog I have ever looked at. In the past, I've been a soldier in the war against blogging. If I've told you I will look at your blog, I've lied. Sincere apologies.
But I have planned to start a blog later this summer when my refusal to make responsible decisions takes me backpacking in EU - keeping my family, friends, and fans appeased - but after this most monumental day, I could resist any longer. Plus, someone I knew, in response to my scrutinizing his blogging habit, made the very legitimate argument that blogging serves as a journal to those who may or may not be poor at journaling otherwise.
So, first - an explanation of the title of my blog (because I want to). Second - why today was so awesome that I had to blog it immediately.
1. After my mother's repeated urging to read "The Power of Intention" and my continual procrastination, she finally sent the basic theme of the entire book to me in the form of a silver band with the asian-ish script reading "Live the life you have imagined." Basically it was love at first sight between me and the ring, on my side both for the style and appearance of the text and the implication of the phrase. Honestly, I've never been passive in my pursuit of happiness nor have I ever been a fan of not dreaming the impossible so a title like this very accurately sums up a very fundamental part of who I am. Certainly, it does not encompass all of who I am and you may later find other parts of me exposed that seem to contradict this trite, naive, but hopeful and determined policy so at that point maybe I'll change the title of this blog to "my life is a black abyss..." or "I have high skeptisism (may be misspelled or may not be a word) about western dating culture..." For the time being, here is the title of what will probably become your spiciest literary habit.
2. After such a satirious and fascious beginning, I don't know if I can even convey the surreal realizations I've had today. So I guess I'll just have to start. Today is Easter Sunday. Very few of my Easter Sundays have been tradition for the last 21 years so I really have no expectation or standard procedure. Plans for this sunday - taking my 13 year old brother with me to the east Los Angeles suburb of Hemet to visit our grandparents, Gladys and Carlos. For the sake of getting to Grandma and Grandpa's as early as possible, we forgo-ed any form of worship service (an abomination that would even get us kicked out of the Catholic church, thank goodness that I'm not trumpeting it over the internet) and arrived around 11 am. My grandparents have recently purchased a new home that needs some yard work done, and as they are old and we (my brother and I) are young and capable, besides that I have been brainwashed at an early age that vacationing means outdoor labor, and I have a feeling that my 13 year old brother, who has a laptop, Ipod, and I touch, has been underutilised in yard work in his Long Beach condo, I thought doing a little weeding/painting/digging was a good activity for our visit. So, for the afore mentioned reasons and because we had already committed the ultimate Easter Sunday sin of skipping church, I decided that the first thing we would do (after enchilada binging, of course) would be to clean up the yard. Did I have selfish, unspoken tanning ambitions? Absolutely, that's why I started at high noon and wore a tank top.
To the utter dismay of Devin; paint, sandpaper, hoe, and rake were located - and I began giving orders. Four hours, three Dr Peppers, seven water bottles, and a mexican work tan (proudly displayed above) later - the yard was completely clear, the side and front flower bends were weeded and the fence was painted. Behold, our truimph in the pictures included at the top of this post. In my blogging infancy, I have not discovered how to get the photos embedded in the text (suggestions welcome in the comments area please), therefore slightly dampening story telling skills. But do not fret, I will prevail.
Despite the obvious rebellion of keeping the Sabbath day holy, I was extremely satisfied with our work. We celebrated by eating more enchiladas and a trip to a nearby park where I laid in the grass motionless for no less than 30 minutes and my brother gave me a synopsis of Chinese and Mayan (odd combination) culture since the beginning of time. Evidence also included above (Damn you blogger interface options!).
The last activity of the day (besides showering and one last burrito) was the purpose for my entire trip to LA - recording my Grandma's personal history and life story. In case the pictures and names were not evidence enough, let me disclose the obvious - my grandparents are not from America. Both of them immigrated to America many years ago from Mexico. The story of my grandma's life cannot be justifiable covered if I tried to type everything she told me right now. It's late and the project will take many hours. Thankfully, video recording and scribbled notes will give me family history homework for at least three months. But I have laughed, been amazed, been surprised, almost cried, and been captivated solidly for the last two hours. Furthermore, I understand my immediate family and myself ten times better for the stories Grandma Gladys told. My understanding of how little and relatively insignificant my experiences have been was a prevelant thought in my head yet also how much I had to learn. Also prevelant, insane gratitude for the opportunity I have to learn from my grandma and so anxious to live an adventurous life so that someday I will be afforded the opportunity to entertain another young, ignorant child with my stories. The life history of my grandma is a promised future blog (a must read for anyone who is either intimate with me or my family or anyone who cares in the slightest for the experience of someone very different from one's self), but for now only Gladys' words can sum up her story. Upon being asked if she had any regrets from her far from normal life thusfar, she quickly responded, "Oh no, mi amor, I have no regrets because regrets are what happen when you don't enjoy what you have when you had it."
Today is definitely the most unconventional Easter Sunday I've ever had but probably the best I could have imagined. I'm glad I could record it in this blog (which I'm growing increasingly fond of). I can feel the addiction to blogging coming. If you've even made it through this entire post and are wondering if the writing will get any less intense, I can give no such promises. I may manage to talk like an arrogant 18 year old boy in person (apologies to my strictly virtual fanbase) but in writing I cannot hide the Jane Austen reading, political review watching, demetri martin listening math nerd that I am. I do encourage you to continue reading with the promise that future blogs will not be this long and that I occasionally use spell check - which is humbling because it is then that I discover that most words with more than four syllables that I use are, in fact, nonexistent (with the exception of "nonexistent" which is a word).
Sincerely,
Alyssa Grace
PS Until I can figure out the gadget for the sidebar that accomplishes what I am about to do - future blogs: "Why eating meals in the middle of the night is good for the soul" and "Yes, I'm actually as arrogant as I sound"
