Scusi, Parla Italiano?

It sure feels nice to be home. I miss my friend and it hurt like hell to leave, but it's nice to come back and do all those things I know how to do- this blog being one of them.

Italian was my first college class ever. When I was in high school, I really wanted to learn Italian but the nearest place was about three hours away- there was no way on earth that we could afford that trip twice a week. So when I stumbled across an Italian class near to where I live now, it was a no brainer for me to take the class. At the time I had no hopes of going to college (no money or time) but being able to go to this class made me fairly happy.

I don't know what is it about languages but I always thought it'd be so cool if I could just go up to someone who spoke a different language and start a conversation. I mean, it made sense, most problems happen out miscommunication anyway- I still think I can somehow end that.

About two days ago, I received a call. I had signed up on a soccer website, announcing myself as an available player looking to join a team on an adult league. The guy was calling me to see if I was interested. The funny part is that when he called, he apologized for his poor English. Don Luciano was his name. Scusi, parla italiano? (Excuse me, do you speak Italian?) I said, and we were having a conversation.

I made mistakes, said a few words wrong, couldn't remember others but it sure was nice to have that conversation. With a little bit of struggle, we agreed that he'd come by my house to talk to me personally, and let me try on some jerseys. It was working, this whole time studying this language and it finally paid off (well, it'd be nicer when my mistakes become minimal but I'm not complaining).

It really makes a difference, to know that you are able to do something you really want to do. Oh and I think Don Luciano was happy to run into someone that spoke his language. Maybe I found a team to play with, but if I'm lucky, someone to practice my Italian with also.

I Put The A In Math- Wait, That Sounds Lame

Today will be a day I think I'll spend shopping and packing as I get ready to leave Alabama.

If you happened to read my previous entry, "I Quit," you read words written by a person not happy with the job she used to do- that person being me. As I get ready for the beginning of another semester in college (August 31st), I'm also trying to figure out what I'm gonna do work wise for such semester. Funny enough I'm no longer a Freshman, and this Fall will welcome me as a Sophomore.

I've already managed to get a job with the school at the Outreach Center doing the very prestigious task of clerical work (ha!), which I'll work from Tuesday to Friday. The thing is that I'm also a few days away from getting another job. This other job won't offer me much hours or lots of money, but it will be a fun job to do. Basically, I will have to go to a math class twice a week, and after the class, I will spend an hour or two with students that need extra help with math.

It may be a little stretch for me if I get this job, but I really want to do it. From my own experience, a LOT of people have trouble with math and sometimes that is the reason why they're behind in their education- so if I can help them get through it, then I'll take the stretch, even if it means less hours of sleep for me (and I will be getting paid for it too so it's not like it's such a stretch. . .).

The interview will happen on Wednesday, a day after I arrive to L.A. And right after the interview, I'll be tested on my math skills. If hired, I'll have my training on Thursday. So here I am, brushing up on my math skills.

I've always been good at math. I used to want to be an Aerospace Engineer when I graduated from High School but thanks to the three-year break I had to take to work, I ended up switching my career path. I like math because it's so mechanical. It either works or it doesn't. There isn't a gray area, you have it right or you don't. But most of my classmates (and other students) don't see the beauty in that. They just think math is a bunch of complex numbers- and it may be sometimes, but for the most part, it isn't. I am looking forward to this interview and I really want this job because I'll be able to make a difference (hopefully) in a student's education. So I'm preparing as best as I can to get this job.

How does a writer end up liking math so much, I don't know.

Wish me luck!

I Quit

It was my first day in yet another customer service job. "This should help with my textbooks," I thought, as I put on the theater uniform. I wasn't happy to be there. It had nothing to do with having to work, I've always enjoyed working, I think it just hadn't been a good day for me.
My shift was supposed to start at 2pm and end around 10pm. It was another sunny Saturday in L.A. "Here's what you need to do, if you have a question, find me," Bob, one of the theater managers, said as he handed me a schedule. I was officially owned by the company and therefore had to take orders.Serve people, that's usually the basics of customer service. Smile even if you don't mean it; you can't sit because somehow that would offend a guest. If you're hungry, it doesn't matter- you have a scheduled break and that's when you get to eat.

The guest I'm there to serve is the one that cares less. He doesn't make eye contact. He doesn't acknowledge you- and maybe pity is what causes this. He doesn't care to know that I am more than a job and that is just a way to get me through college. He doesn't know that I read on my spare time- for fun (imagine that!). That I play sports or that I like to have a beer to accompany the Sunday game.

I performed my duties accordingly and once my break time comes around I clocked out and went to the break room almost running. I got a cup of soup from a nearby cafe and once I got back into the tiny break room, I was forced to eat on the floor as the four chairs that habituate the room were currently taken. I wasn't the only one on the floor- it would be impossible with a staff of over a hundred. But I was one of the unlucky who had to sit next to the overflowing trash can. The mixed smell of whatever the trash can contained, took away any sort of appetite I had and I gave up my soup to the smelly monster. Perhaps contributing to worsen the situation.

I put my game face on and went back to the floor. I had four more hours to go. I was hungry,and my feet felt like a time bomb, like they could have given up on me any second now. I punched back in and walked over to my next duty. I was there to make everyone happy. To make sure that they come back again so whoever owns the place gets richer and richer. And what does this guy do for me? He doesn't even provide a humane place to eat, not for me or the others. For the managers maybe? They don't use the break room because they have their offices.I guess they wouldn't know what it's like to eat next to a giant trash can.

"Yale," I kept repeating to myself.

Setting Goals

Some writers may have the luxury to stay at home all day and do all the writing they please. However, I (along with millions of others) don't have that luxury. I am a college student which translates into little time to write.

In order to get all the things I need to get done on a weekly basis, I keep a rigorous schedule (and I stick to it). As I've mentioned earlier, writing is picky and sometimes you feel like writing and sometimes you don't, but I've come to realize that the more you write, even if you're not sure of what you're writing, the more you actually WANT to write.

Fall semester is on my windshield view (11 days to go!) and I am already afraid of my schedule. Class wise I'll have Elementary Statistics, History of Western Civilization II, International Politics, Political Philosophy, and Knowledge and Reality (Which I'm actually trying to switch for Intermediate Italian I, so cross your fingers for me!). There's also a table tennis class, because if I don't play a sport during a semester I'll go crazy. Three weekly meetings- as Alpha Gamma Sigma board member. Actually, I think it's four meetings, but I'm not sure yet. Volunteer work. And there's also a part-time job in the way. Scary, huh?

So for all of you who have full-time jobs, children, dogs, whatever it is that you have, if writing IS what you WANT to do, then it's time you start doing it. Even if you can only schedule an hour daily to write, if you do it daily, eventually you'll finish whatever you start.

Setting up a "page goal" is also very useful. What that means is that you set a two-page goal per day, so you won't go to bed until you've written your daily two pages. And if you happen to get inspired and write 10 pages, then way to go! But if you don't, as long as you those two, then you're good.

If you don't work towards that thing that you want, it's unlikely that such thing will come to you from the sky (Unless you really want rain). I know it's easier said than done, trust me I do. But I also know NEVER is a good time to give up. Who knows, maybe that story you've been pushing off to write will save someone's life. So what are you waiting for?