July 10th, 2009, was a very important day for me. It was on a Friday afternoon that I made the trip to the University of Redlands for an orientation meeting for the incoming doctoral students in the School of Education.

On July 10th, 2012,  I was in Redlands again, presenting with my classmates at the Summer Institute on Leadership in Educational Justice with the letters Ed.D. after my name. Yes, that's right. Exactly three years to the day.
And there you have it. Bookends on a three-year window. It's amazing, really.

I am around a lot of people who don't think that it's all that amazing, but I know how amazing it is. I finished a doctorate in less than three years. In that three years I've read thousands of pages, written (at least) hundreds of pages, and slept for fewer hours than I am used to. I've fallen in love and have been heartbroken more than once. I've seen families expand through birth and marriage. I've been to many--too many--funerals. I love my best friend--my beloved Milo. And now I have a Barney.

It was a rough week, so instead of celebrating the milestone, I was arguing with my collaborators, suffering from insomnia, and dealing with a car emergency. But, now that I have a chance to breathe, I have to say, yay, me!

I've been wandering around aimlessly for the past month or so. Not that I haven't had anything to do; I've had plenty to do. I have to finish editing my dissertation. I have some papers to write for various things. I have lesson plans to update. I have a house to clean. I have books to read. I have movies and TV shows to watch. I have scrapbooking, genealogy, and numerous hobbies to get back into.

So, it's not that I have nothing to *do*. It's more that I have nothing to *look forward to*. I had a long-term goal for a very long time, and now that I've reached it, I keep thinking, "Now what?"

I've written about this before, so I won't belabor the issue.

And I've also written about some goals that I have, but none of them seemed to be enough. I am looking for something *more*.

So I've decided to concentrate on one goal. It is a long-term goal, has many components, and will not be easy to accomplish. I want to adopt a child.

This is something I've wanted to do ever since I can remember. I have wanted to do this much more than I have wanted to get married or have "my own" (read: natural) children or even get a doctorate. So now I'm going to plan for it.

Now, this is going to take a lot more than just *wanting* to adopt. In fact, several of my other goals will have to be put into place before I can accomplish this.

First, I need to be financially stable. This means that I need to have a good job and reduce a great deal of my debt. This is going to take some time and energy, I know, but it will be great for me in many ways.

Second, I need a better place to live. Either I need to get my house all fixed up or I need to move. I would like to do both, just in case. But at any rate, I need a much better place to live. And I'll be happier once both happen.

Third, I need to be healthier. Since going on the insulin, I have learned how to control my blood sugar. I'm a lot healthier than I was a year ago, and I'm getting the care that I need. But I need to lose weight and still be even more healthy. So that means I need to start exercising. A LOT. And eating better. I know I can do it; I just need a better plan, I think.

So that's it. The Goal. This may take 3 years. Or more. But at least now I have a goal.

So...my sister gave me a Kindle Fire as a graduation present. I must admit that I am quite obsessed with it. It is so compact and so powerful. I love the wi-fi, because I can watch movies from Netflix and Amazon anytime I'm connected. I am reading Jane Eyre and am downloading a lot of free books. I've only paid for one so far, and it is the Calorie King book...not that exciting, I know.

The downside is that it is way too easy to buy stuff from Amazon now, as if it weren't easy enough before. For the Kindle, I bought a cover and a screen cleaning cloth, and I'm considering buying a stylus. And then there are things for my phone that I think I want, books, handbags, etc., etc., etc. It is good that I have *some* restraint. Then again...

This could be dangerous...

Sunday morning arrived, and I woke up much earlier than I wanted to. I had breakfast with my sister and brother-in-law, and they left to go to sing in the choir at church. I worked on my dissertation for a little while and watched some episodes of "The Six Million Dollar Man" on DVD. Don't laugh. They were the Bionic Woman episodes. :D

I soon got tired and lay down for "just a little while." After 1-1/2 hours, my sister and her husband arrived home from church and work me up. Ha ha. We had lunch, and then I did a little more work before getting ready to go to the wedding.

We left the house at around 4pm, and we went into town so that I could get my hair fixed up for the wedding. I'd made an appointment on Friday, but the girls at the salon acted as if they had no idea who I was. One of them finally checked the book, and my name was indeed there. So one of them did my hair. She did not introduce herself, and she did not seem overly happy about it. She was not hostile; just not very friendly either. She did an OK job, I think, but, boy, did she use a lot of product!

This past weekend I traveled to Northern California to attend my cousin's wedding. I left early on Saturday morning and drove and drove and drove. I drove for 4-1/2 hours until I got to Santa Nella, CA, where I stopped at In-n-Out and had an animal style cheeseburger and fries. I also bought some gasoline and used the facilities. Before I had my car engine rebuilt, I would have had to stop much earlier, but the old car gets really good mileage now. :)

I arrived at my sister's house at around 4:30. They live kind-of out in the woods in Angwin. And, because they only live at this particular home part-time, they had no phone, no internet, and no TV. Also, because they are in the middle of nowhere, they get no cell service. I honestly did not like that much quiet, although some people might find it relaxing.

When sister #2 got her doctorate, she had a lovely party and then a week later had a huge wedding. The wedding was the night before my finals week started. (I think I actually failed the test I had the next day, but, because I was among the department favorites and had been doing well up until that point, I still ended the course with an A.)

When sister #1 got her doctorate, my whole family went to Boston for her graduation. Then my parents and she and I took a month-long European vacation. (Not that I'm complaining, or anything. It was a great trip.)

Now I'm getting my doctorate. Sister #1 says she can't come, because (and, yes, I'm paraphrasing here), the last day of 3rd grade is more important than my graduation. Sister #2 can come, but is choosing not to, because "Liza's wedding is going to be more fun" than my graduation.

Just saying. Times have changed...

I've never been anyone's favorite. You may think that's a strange statement, but it's true. As the third child, it's hard to be the favorite. I have a theory that within families, aunties and uncles choose their favorites by whoever is the "baby" when they are falling in love. So my oldest sister was my Auntie Jemimah and Uncle Jerrys's favorite, and my second sister was my Auntie Daisy and Uncle Gerhard's favorite. No one was in love when I was the baby, so I ended up being no one's favorite.

By the time I came along, everyone was too busy even to give me a nickname, even a funny one, such as "Neng Neng" or "Lors." I was just the generic "Anak," the kid. My friend S loves to give nicknames to women. He names them after actresses, characters in movies and TV and comics and books; he plays with variants on their names and their looks. But he's never given me a nickname in all these years, because he only gives nicknames to beautiful women. Only once has he even called me "Kat," and that was because he was trying to impress another girl. It's always Kathy or, when he is angry, he uses my last name. The only time I ever had a true nickname was when A and J used to call me "Pokey," because they thought my long hair reminded them of Pocahantas. They have no idea how much it meant to me to have a nickname, even though it was a silly one. A nickname shows endearment. I needed that.

In school I was smart but didn't know it. I didn't really excel until I was much older. I was relatively quiet and didn't get a whole lot of attention. I still don't. I certainly wasn't anyone's favorite in school. I was just...there.

But for almost 39 months of my life, I finally learned what it was like to be someone's favorite. When I went to the shelter that day, I actually had a list of dogs I wanted to look at. It was the third time I'd been to the shelter, and no dog had felt right. I looked at the dogs on my list but didn't think any of them was right. I walked up and down the aisles several times, not sure why I didn't leave, but I had to look again and again. One cage had a sign on it that said, "Shepherd mix." As much as I love German shepherds, I was not sure that I could handle a dog that needed as much attention as a shepherd needs. So I walked by without looking. But he was looking. I walked by that cage at least 4 times, each time noticing that the dog in the cage was watching me intently. He would follow me with his head every time. I finally stopped to look and realized that he wasn't a German shepherd at all; he looked more like a beagle.  Since a beagle had just won the Westminster dog show the night before, I was drawn to beagles. (Also, a cute boy once told me I should own a beagle, so I have a thing for them.) But this dog wasn't a beagle; he was too big. Turns out that he was a harrier, and I had to do some research to learn about the breed. So that was how Milo chose me. I was his favorite from the very beginning.

It took him a full year to the day to decide to sleep on my bed. He had graduated from his bed in the kitchen to the whole kitchen to my bedroom floor. But on the anniversary of his adoption, he decided that he was going to sleep on the bed. And he did. He would usually jump down after a little while and spend the night on the floor--or lately, on the floor of my closet--but as soon as it got light, he would be back up on the bed. Sometimes I wouldn't even know he was there until I woke up.  If I was too close to the edge of the bed, he would cry until I woke up and moved to give him room to jump up. Or sometimes he would just jump on me. When I woke up, I'd say "Let's go, Milo." He would scoot up from his place at my feet until he was close enough to pet. Then I would rub and tickle his belly. He would roll on his back in utter joy. We played like this until he would sneeze from being on his back for too long. Then we would do it again. Then I'd say, "Let's go, Milo." He'd jump down and be ready to start our day.

If I went out during the day, even if it was just to go to the car, he would be waiting when I came home, usually with a toy.
 I admit that I couldn't resist buying him toys; they made him so happy. He would bring the toy to the door, but when I would try to take it, he would run away. If, however, I did not say, "Thank you, Milo," and try to take the toy, he would follow me around with it, pushing it against my thighs and rear until I gave him appropriate acknowledgement.

Another of our favorite activities was when I would sit on the top step in the hallway. He would sit right next to me then all of a sudden put his head on my chest and lean...hard. I would pet and pet and pet him until he would slide down and put his head on my lap. Sometimes he would fall asleep, but sometimes I would say, "Let's go," and we would run down the stairs.

My parents loved Milo. Milo knew them as "Grandma" and "Grandpa." If my dad went to take the trash out or if my dad went somewhere and Milo heard the car returning, Milo would whimper by the door until "Grandpa" came back in. If he heard the car coming, he would look around, deciding which toy to bring with him. At dinner, Milo would put his head on my dad's lap, hoping his cuteness would get him a treat from the table. But as much as he loved my parents, mine was the bed he slept in and mine was the room he thought of as his.

I was his favorite. For the first time in my life, I was someone's favorite. And he was mine. I called him "Milo, Milito, the Mexican dog." He wasn't really, of course. I was just making up a song to sing to him one day (something he thought was very strange), and it sounded like a Mexican song. So he became "Milo, Milito, the Mexican dog," with his own special song.

I do not have very much. (I know you're thinking, "yes, you do," but stick with me here.) I have been begging God for a job, love, a house, a family. Milo was all of those things. He was my one true love, my child, my family. He made this house (my parents' house) a home in a way I didn't know existed. Being his mommy was the one job I truly loved. He was my loyal companion
,
 my brave protector,
my best friend.
He saved my life, just by being. He was the only one who truly loved me first, and he made sure to let me know it. "Am I your favorite, Milo?" I would ask. He would lick my face and kiss me. "You're my favorite," I would respond. You're my own baby dog, and I love you. You're my own precious dog forever."

He put up with my crazy schemes and costumes,
 just to be with me. He was mine, my very own, the one thing that was my very own. I do not know why God would take away my one thing from me. God has not seen fit to give me the other things I have asked for; instead, God took away the one thing I had. I am devastated and hurt and angry. I cannot understand why God could be so cruel to take away my one true love.

My brother-in-law Ed is in Mozambique for several months, helping to set up a national resource lab. He is having some interesting adventures. Follow his travels on his blog.

Let me know what you think . . .

Steven Curtis Chapman was on Good Morning America this morning, but I didn't hear about it until later. Good thing the entire story is here on the ABC website. This family still makes me cry. But they amaze me with their faith. I'll never forget hearing this man talk about the loss of his daughter and then leading an entire audience of people in singing "Blessed Be the Lord." That song has never been the same for me since.

Anyway, read the article and watch the interview. Amazingly, this time ABC didn't cut out all of the references to God, as they did last time. (That would have made for some pretty interesting editing.) Be sure to get out your tissues. :)

This poem is the result of two experiences I had this week.

On Monday I tutored a woman for the GRE. She is 55, White, and from middle America. She is very nervous about her test. A while into our session, she said to me, "You are very calming. Where are you from?" I wasn't really sure how to take that. Was she assuming that I was from some exotic Asian land and was bringing the inherent calming effects of my supposed culture? Or was she just asking a question? I still don't know. My answer is in the last line of this poem.

Then last night in class we actually had to write "I am from" poems. It was kind-of odd that this came up after my experience on Monday. We wrote them together, and we didn't have a whole lot of time. But after last night, I felt moved to write my own "I am from" poem.

I don't know that it's complete. I don't think it will ever really be complete. But here's what I came up with.


I am from . . .

. . . a sugar cane farmer on a far away island
. . . an owner of a fleet of fishing boards on the Pacific Ocean
. . . a man who died in an unknown village in China
. . . a devout member of a Catholic parish in Spain
. . . families torn apart by a war
. . . grandparents who dreamed of more for their children
. . . parents who saw education as a golden ticket
. . . someone who could see opportunities on distant shores

I am from . . .

. . . a preacher at a tent meeting on that same far away island
. . . a colporteur who sold books door to door
. . . a group of young believers who longed for the return of their savior
. . . a pastor who preached grace without extending it to others
. . . church members who threw me away when I was deemed no longer useful
. . . a God who loves unconditionally

I am from . . .

. . . a collective of teachers—Mrs. Croak to Dr. Lalas—who imparted me with their knowledge—and lack of knowledge
. . . a science teacher who played H-O-R-S-E with me during P.E. rather than traumatize me with team sports
. . . a vice-principal who saw potential rather than mediocrity
. . . a professor who asked, “What was it like growing up gifted?” (to which I replied, “I was?”)

I am from . . .

. . . people in a city that places youth and beauty above all else
. . . aunts, uncles, cousins, second- and third- cousins, once-, twice-, thrice-removed, who arrived one after the other
. . . a family that must answer the question, “May I speak with Dr. Repique?” with “Which one?”

I am from . . .

. . . hundreds of students, who gave me more than they could possibly know
. . . groups of dedicated teachers and students who shared their hearts on Kairos and Emmaus
. . . principals, vice-principals, and department chairs for whom potential donor dollars were worth more than people
. . . colleagues—devoted and not---who inspire me with uncountable reasons to walk into a classroom

I am from . . .

. . . an unexpected friend who challenged me to be better than I was
. . . another friend who knew how to use my gifts without making me feel used
. . . new classmates and professors who are teaching me to become a superhero for educational justice

 
Where am I from?

I am from . . .

. . . here

Your prayers are needed for a very dear friend of mine and my friend's family. They are going through a very difficult time right now. I cannot go into much detail, because I'd like to preserve the family's privacy. However, I know that many of you will pray, no matter what the circumstances. Thanks.

Here's your last chance to donate to our team for the Revlon Run/Walk. Donations are due by 5pm on Tuesday, June 30th. Here's the link.

Thanks to those of you who donated and supported in other ways. :)

I visited the Griffith Observatory yesterday (Saturday, June 27th, 2009) with my sister, brother-in-law, and niece. I guess I should have thought this through beforehand. It was the first official weekend of the summer, and the place was packed. The road to the observatory was blocked, and we had to park halfway down the hill. I was NOT happy to have to hike for what seemed forever to get to the observatory. We passed A LOT of empty parking spaces on our way up, too, and that was pretty annoying.

If you haven't been to the Griffith Observatory since the renovation, you are in for a treat. The exhibits have been updated, but it still feels like the old place. There is a whole lot more room, too. There is a new second floor (under the original building). Annie ran from one place to another, trying to absorb as much as possible.

Despite the crowds, we were pretty much able to see everything. We didn't bother with the planetarium, though. That was much too crowded. Maybe some other time.

And we did not get to visit the gift shop. Boo!

We visited the Long Beach Aquarium of the Pacific on Tuesday, June 23, 2009. By "we," I mean my parents, my sister, my brother-in-law, my niece, and I. We were able to buy the tickets online (with a $5 per ticket discount) and planned to arrive in Long Beach at around 1:40pm. We actually managed to estimate the getting-ready and the driving times appropriately.

It's hard to believe that the Long Beach Aquarium has been here for over 10 years, and I had never been there. It is quite wonderful. They have several galleries with huge tanks of fish and other creatures from different areas of the Pacific Ocean. Fish and creepy-crawlies are interesting, but my favorites are the mammals. They had gorgeous sea lions and really cool otters. (We even managed to catch some sea lions mating, but I'd rather not think about that.) There are many touching pools outside--rays, tide pools, sharks. The aquarium also has a lorikeet forest, which is a lot of fun, if birds don't freak you out. You can purchase nectar to feed the birds, but we didn't do that.

We had lunch in the restaurant, which was terribly overpriced but wasn't too bad. There was a nice variety, at least, so we all found something to eat. We had a nice view of a seagull family (very large babies!) while we had our lunch.

Annie loved the aquarium. She couldn't get enough of each exhibit while wondering what was in the next one. She had a great time and even came home with a stuffed puffin toy to show for it.

I really liked the Long Beach Aquarium of the Pacific. If I didn't have to brave the 5 and the 710, I might have thought about becoming a member. But I will definitely be sure to visit more often from now on.

Here is a cool article that was in the St. Helena newspaper. It's about my sister and her husband and how they saved a pipe organ from being destroyed. The organ now resides in their home in Angwin. Sis tells me that there were better pictures in the actual (not virtual) newspaper. I think it's kinda cool.

Wishing you a Merry Christmas from me and Milo!!!

September 15th, 2008, was my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. I can't imagine being married that long (and at my age, I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen to me). My sisters and I have been planning a party for them for a few months, and the party took place this past Monday. It was as close to perfect as we could have hoped.

The party took place on a Monday night, because my parents got married on a Monday night at a wedding chapel in L.A. We held the party at The Maxwell House, on the grounds of the Western Justice Center in Pasadena. The facility is gorgeous, and it was just perfect for our needs. The employees are very helpful, too.

Our caterer was Bistro 45, and we made the right choice. The food was fantastic, and the servers they hired were amazing.

Virna and her mom did the flowers, and they were absolutely gorgeous.

We kept the guest list small--there were fewer than 60 guests; we hoped to have an intimate dinner with old friends. This we were able to accomplish. All but one of the wedding party attended. (We weren't able to locate the last person; I think he lives in the Philippines.) The guests ate, talked, looked at pictures, and told stories. Auntie Daisy defied Hurricane Ike and arrived from the airport just as the party was starting. The Olivas drove in from Las Vegas, and the Napoleses came from Bakersfield.

Overall, it was everything we hoped for. We had a marvelous time, and, I hope, so did everyone else.

This was today's Chinese Horoscope for me. Oddly, much of it is true, and most of the rest of it I am waiting to come true. Interesting . . .

You'll make some good business deals or will find a more remunerative job. Don't mull over pointless questions of life after death. You'll be subject to digestive and intestinal troubles due mostly to your anxiety and excessive nervousness. Family concerns or uneasiness about the health of a near one will somewhat disturb your life. You'll savor the delights of love. But this should not prevent you from taking care of other sectors of your existence, otherwise it will not take you long to know many disappointments.
Horoscopes ©AsiaFlash Provided Courtesy of Master Rao.

I'm tired of drama. I'm tired of people thinking they are entitled to something, when it is really none of their business. I'm tired of selfish people. I'm tired of self-centered people (you really can be one without the other). I'm tired of people who feel the need to be offended at every little thing.

Overall, I'm tired of drama.