I'm a middle school teacher, as my loyal readers (all four of you, lol) know. I'm teaching Language Arts this year, which I'm positively thrilled about. In all of my classes, we start with a journal topic. As I take attendance and tie up loose ends, the kids are at their desks responding to the journal topic. The topic varies, of course, from day to day. Last week I had a journal topic up for them, which was courtesy of my friend :) and department head, which inspired me to join the kids and write my personal response. Here is the topic along with my response.

It would be nice to visit places around the world. Imagine you could go anywhere in the world, at any time in the past or future. Where and to what time would you go? What would you want to see, and whom would you want to meet? Explain.

I’ve heard amazing stories from my grandmother, Abuela Pachy. Actually, her real name is America. When she was born, her father named her after, “El mejor país del mundo – Los estados unidos de America.” If I could visit any place in the world during any time period, I would visit Cuba in the 1930s. Specifically, I’d visit Puerto Padre, the small, sleepy beach town where my grandparents grew up next door to each other and fell in love. My grandfather was eight years older than my grandmother. He fell in love with her when she was just a girl of 14. My great-grandfather, Puerto Padre’s only attorney, adamantly told her, “You must finish school before you start after any matters of the heart. He’s a nice boy, but he’s too old for you. Besides, focus on school.”

Some kids always obey their parents, and some kids always disobey them. My grandmother fell somewhere in the middle, which is to say she didn’t exactly obey one-hundred percent of the time. To illustrate, girls were not to ride bicycles back in those days, but she would steal one of her two older brothers’ bikes – Ramiro or Victor – when her dad was working in his office and her mom was toiling away at the kitchen stove. But when her father said, “No boys allowed,” even she knew it was best to obey.

Years went by, and finally! She felt it was time to ask again. Besides, her cousin told her she’d better hurry because there was talk around the town that he was engaged to another woman. "Ponte la pilas!" her cousin warned her. My grandmother couldn’t believe it! She was already in her early 20s and dared to ask her father. He acquiesced. They were engaged almost immediately, my grandfather had proved himself to my great-grandfather through all the years. My grandmother was the girl my grandfather had been waiting for his entire life.

The wedding was beautiful, as I've learned through plenty 8x10 black and white photos. I rifle through my grandparents’ closet and look at the white photo albums they’re carefully stored in, my organized and clever Aunt Lissette’s idea. I always select the album that contains their wedding pictures. I sigh in contentment whenever I see true love exists.

My grandfather passed away in December 2008. But I can still feel the love my grandmother has for him, even now that he’s no longer with us, when she so much as talks of him and the way he was. In her heart, she’s still the bold young girl, brimming with bravado, pedaling as fast as her stick-thin legs could take her, racing past his house to see if she could just catch a glimpse of him and his sky-colored eyes. The eyes that contained a whole world of love…just for her.

This past weekend was full of beachy activities. Saturday I went to the beach during the day with Grace, America and Adrienne. I have more pics of all of us on another computer, so I'll update this post later (if I get around to it, crazy week coming up ahead).

Saturday night was my friend Marc's birthday celebration and the C. boy went! Fun times for sure. Happy birthday, Marc! Funniest text exchange on Sunday went a little somethin' like this:

Me:
Hey, Marc! Just wanted to say I hope the rest of your weekend was awesome and thanks for everything. :)

Marc:

I think it was awesome...I don't r. a damn thing!

Then Sunday, I went to the beach (third time in a row in one weekend alone!) with my friend and co-worker Cristy and her two baby girls. They're not really babies, the oldest one is five and her little sister is four. They're the A-dorable and so sweet. More to come, just wanted to do a post that wasn't too deep or nostalgic.

Sometimes it's easy to forget what we expect from our significant other. And sometimes it gets to the point where we realize it's time to cut our losses and move on. But it's incredibly hard, especially if we still love the person and if they aren't a total meanie (sorry, forgive me -- but I teach middle school kids for a living).

I found these questions and comments on oprah.com when I ended a relationship that wasn't meant to be a few years ago. The boy and I are still very close, he was my date to my cousin's wedding Saturday and I know I can ALWAYS count on him. But the ending of our relationship was a long process. It was saying goodbye every couple of months and then reuniting with a pit of fear in our stomachs because we just knew it was simply a matter of time before our next goodbye.

Questions to Ask Yourself When You're Considering the End of a Relationship

1. What do I want?
2. What do I need?
3. What compromises can I live with?
4. Am I willing to make hard choices?

In order to honestly answer these four questions, one must:

• Know yourself.
• Acknowledge obligations.
• Live by your values.

THE BEST DECISIONS COME FROM LOOKING AS DEEPLY INTO YOURSELF AS YOU DO THE RELATIONSHIP.

If you decide to cut your losses...

• Create a vivid, positive vision for your future.
• See it, say it, meditate on it, write it down...

Letting go hurts. But staying once you've decided the relationship is really over means being buried alive. Face your decisions with courage, kindness and a galloping leap of faith because...

joy is waiting.

I told myself I wasn't going to blog while in a way-too-contemplative mood. I logged on and continued telling myself to keep it light and fluffy.

But that wouldn't be real of me. Haven't blogged in quite a bit, so I'd like to keep it real.

I've been thinking about a certain song. Music inspires me; it's my muse. And there's this song by Cheap Trick.

Some lines:

I want you to want me.

I need you to need me.

I'd love you to love me.

I'm beggin' you to beg me.

Didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you cryin'?

Feelin' all alone without a friend, you know you feel like dyin'.

Here is what the music inspired me to scribble in cursive (pretty cursive, too) on a random notepad.

*When will my love for you run dry?

*When will I have to take off this sudden, newfound blindfold and see for real that hearts are uncontrollable.

OR

-When will you realize it's me who truly understands you, cares for you and loves you?

-When will it all be enough proof for you?

One way or the other, I feel like my heart's about to embark on a ride. It's one of those scarily exhilarating rollercoasters. Buckle up and enjoy the ride? Or scream bloody murder and get off while things are still safe?

One of my "new year's resolutions" (placed inside quotation marks only because I have broken all of my previous ones within days, sometimes within hours of making them) was to do the whole Mass thing on Sundays again.

My parents aren't exactly religious. Both are v. definitely spiritual. Both have read The Secret and like Joel Osteen, lol. (Yeah, I totally went to hear Joel speak at a v. packed arena last year with my mom and her besties.) But my grandmothers were the ones who pushed for them to transfer the older brother and I into Catholic school post-Rockway Elementary.

When I started going to Mass with St. Agatha School on a regular basis (during the school day!), I just found my place; I fell in love with my faith. Later in high school, I joined Campus Ministry and made it to CORE. Think of CORE as the VIPs from Campus Ministry. (I know, how v. elitist of our school, but not in a bad way.) CORE peeps would organize retreats and "encounters." Retreats were one-day and encounters were three days.

I swear, the happiest I've ever been in my life was when I had a million things going on. When I was in CORE, when I was......the President of the English Honor Society and when I had a serious boyfriend. I was always running around like a madwoman. I realize that maybe I was doing too much at once, but I was ecstatic! I volunteered here and there...I was feeding the homeless every Saturday morning in downtown Miami. I just loved life!

Nine years have come and gone. I've been active in my faith, I've taken breaks. I've had serious boyfriends, I've been single (and at times lonely). I've been involved in my career, sometimes I've taken a backseat and let others take the reign.

Point is, I'm happiest when I'm busy. I'm happily busy when I'm doing things that quench all my soul yearns for (and, let's face it, I yearn for a lot). I love going to Mass with my aunt & uncle (they are brother & sister, not husband & wife, btw). I love the fact that I adore my job; I am amazed each day by my middle schoolers and their fresh outlook on Life.

What I'm trying to get at is...happiness is hard to achieve. But it's not impossible. All those quotes about happiness being part of the journey and not the destination...you people, they are true! I'm just now, at 26, starting to realize that the quotes/clichés are true. That's not to say that we have to plaster fake smiles across our faces during the difficult times. And God knows WE ALL face tough times. But it's all about attitude. And we can't allow ourselves to wallow in misery. I've wallowed. And it's gotten me absolutely...nowhere. When I choose to rise above obstacles, whether they are big or small, I always emerge a happier, more positive and, actually, a more spiritual being.

At Mass this morning, the priest (v. electric, v. hyper!) was giving his Homily. It's the second time I hear him speak, and I was so moved. Last Sunday, I was touched to tears. This Sunday, I chuckled at his sense of humor. During the Homily, he refers to the Bible and all, but he wants to relate the Gospel's message to us as modern-day citizens of this world. He said he never understood why painters depict Jesus as a "bearded Brad Pitt." So funny! And true. I would love to really get into his message, but I'll save it for another day.

I didn't mean to get all preachy-preachy, but I did want to blog about something meaningful. And my faith, to me, is meaningful. And if any of you feel the same way, or have ever felt the same way, or want to feel the same way someday...my heart is with you! Don't give up on your faith. (And don't believe in what you parents spoon-fed you just because it's a habit! Venture out and discover whatever works for you.)

Last night I read the blog I posted on Jan. 1. It's a little freaky how, on Jan. 18, things are kind of falling into place for me. I hope that whatever you wished for on Dec. 31 while eating the twelve grapes (was that just my family? lol) comes true!

Now, just for fun:

(Am I going to hell for this? LOL! The Catholic guilt kicks in!)

I rang in 2009 with my dad's side of the family, a much smaller bunch than my mom's. After midnight, we watched Ricky Martin perform a concert in (we think) Puerto Rico and I fell in love with the man. Yes, yes, I know he's gay or bi- or whatever. But that doesn't change the fact that he's gorgeous and talented.

I picked up best friend Natalie at her house and we went to best friend Caryn's sister's house for a party. We got home at 4 a.m. and it wasn't because we were dancing the night away. We just sat around and talked, laughed at a crazy situation regarding a guy who wasn't out of the closet but who was very gay. "Not that there's anything wrong with that." (Seinfeld episode, hilarious.)

Slept at Nat's and we talked for HOURS. (Her parents are in Atlanta and boyfriend Jorge was working.) This is a true miracle for me, seeing as I have been one of those old ladies who falls asleep early ever since high school. We covered everything from ex-boyfriends to current boyfriend (hers), old friends and new friends and everything in between. Nothing warms the heart more than a night of talking with your best friend since kindergarten.

Today we had a late breakfast at my godmother Odi's house. It's been a Jan. 1 tradition in our family for years and I'm glad Nat was able to share it with us this year. It took me a while to convince her because we were both exhausted, but I lured her with the promise of chocolate-chip pancakes, scrambled eggs and ham. (Totally worked.) 

I've been feeling very at peace on this first day of the new year. I am usually worried about something or turmoiled over some circumstance or another that I have no control over. Today (and, of course, I'm not sure how long this will last), I am relishing in this newfound sense of comfort. It's like I know that somehow, things will turn out OK. Not just for me, but for all of my loved ones. Not saying things will be perfect; nothing is. But they'll be OK.