wanderlust

as we get ready to go to the philippines I take a look at my traveling plans for the year and can’t help but think… am I crazy?!?

jan – philippines & korea
feb – hawaii
march – sxsw.austin
april – NYC
may – sd
june – vegas
july – italy
august – london & paris

thus enters my mia-ness due to work, grad school, and eventual broke-dom. at least ill go down in style

addendum.

i’m not really into posting gifts i receive … oh shoot look at me new (insert gift here) #socialnetworkskindabreedmaterialism. BUT hahah i am a gifts person and i had to shout out these amazing gifts i got for my birthday

1. from the bf: a trip to disneyland with all the fixings & all the harry potter movies !!!! (did i turn 12 or 27?)

2. from ate kay: initials bracelets & the realization that me and my dad have the same initials N * B * R (i just teared haha)

3. from my mom: a surprise party for me and jill complete with food, family, friends, and wine! (sorry she put yall to work hana, dianne, & mel haha)

4. from my amazing, unbelievable, & i owe you the world friends & parents: a book archiving my writing & notes from people i love (thanks for the photoshop job dianne haha)

5. & from janelle: a painting of my family. damn you. you made me cry on my kitchen floor. hahahha i love you <3

twenty7

day4 into the new year and i’m finally writing the blog i’ve been ruminating over since november.

27. an odd number in function and form. as i (apprehensively/reluctantly/cautiously) move steadily into my new life i reflect on lessons learned and realize that the most pivotal lessons have also been the most challenging, devastating, and liberating all in one sweep of emotion.

1. people leave. i’ve never been a fan of burning bridges…but i guess, sometimes they fall on their own. & its okay. relationships and the lessons i’ve learned from them are like seasons – they’re meant for change and motion. so i’ve let them go with peace, love, and forgiveness. i will be thankful for the experience & i will send them the best intentions i can.

2. people stay. for those that stay .. i will hold on to them, love them, be intentional with them. because these are the people that loved me through my awkward stages (some of which i am still in). these are the people that let me cry, eat, laugh hysterically, and then eat again – this time wrapped in bacon. these are my soul mates … the ones that are meant to love my soul to its full existence.

soul collection. some of the most important women in my life.

POWERful in more ways than one <3

3. healing shouldn’t be reliant on other people. whew. i am continually learning to let this lesson travel slowly through my pains & hurt. forgiveness should happen within myself. validation has to come from within. healing, forgiveness, and peace shouldn’t depend on whether the person/being/idea/system has said i’m sorry. this way i am able to find solitary peace within my pain away from the noise. this way i am empowering my ability to rise above assumptions and deal w my own feelings. easier said that done tho right?

my current favorite candle

4. don’t fall in love with potential. oh snap. haha we as people fall in love with potential all the time. in careers, academics, & most commonly relationships. but in relationships, i’ve learned that i’ve got to take people as they are. not what they could be. find the beauty in each person and love the hell out of them. no judgement. no trying to change them. just acceptance. just love. period.

love. people. jewelry. beer. ha just love!

5. fairytales do come true. awwww. i grew up a self proclaimed romantic. i was all about it, but somewhere in between the mixtapes and grown up heartache, i lost her. the her that accepted love, accepted vulnerability, accepted the beauty that comes with butterflies, cheeseballment, & slow dancing. but alas, i’ve found her again. from couples i’ve grown to admire to my own life. dare i say it ‘lest it comes true: fairytales do exist and your heart can be happy (again).

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

cbm <3

6. no day but today. this is it. rent pounded it into our hearts. a wise dumbledore reminded us: “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” & my dad taught us all – might as well. THIS is the year to live. THIS is the year to find adventure. THIS is the year to make things happen. live everyday with intentions of love, spirit, and laughter. drink wine .. choose forgiveness .. take every cliche and give it it’s own story. THIS is the year you become everything you already are but are afraid to love. this is the year I become everything I’ve forgotten to be.

i’ve been watching a lot of “letters to my 16 year old self” videos and i was tempted to write this blog in that form. but i realized these aren’t lessons i could’ve just told my 16 year old, 90 pound, braces for life, thick glasses Princess self. these are lessons i learned from struggle, happiness, experience, pain. these are the lessons that are the results of mistakes & accomplishments. these are the lessons i carry with me as i venture into the new year.

2012. lets handle this.

gold for global goodness =)

   InstantCash For Your Gold !

 

THIS IS A FUND-RAISING EVENT 

HATID BIYAYA MISSION

 

 

Bring your unwanted gold, broken necklaces, rings, earrings,

broaches, bangles, bracelets, dental gold, etc.

To determine the quality, we’ll test them for you.

 

 155 Bayside Terrace

 Vallejo, CA 94591

 

Contacts:

Connie Dayan

 (707) 647-1414   Home

(707) 315-3637  Cell

 

Helen Roque

(650) 796-0551 Cell

******

We would like to invite all of you to come to our fund raising event on Saturday, October 29, 2011.

You will have a chance to support our upcoming Hatid Biyaya Mission trip to the Philippines in January 2012.

 

All proceeds and donations from this fund raising event will go to the following:

 

Ø  Cancer Facility for men, women and children

We will be distributing food, toiletries, and bags of groceries to the cancer patients, and toys, cookies, milk and candies for the children.

 

Ø  NOH-School for the Crippled Children

This is a government funded boarding school for poor children and young adults who are physically disabled. Most of the students that are attending this school have either missing body parts (i.e. legs, arms, etc.) or physical deformity, and some of them are not able to walk due to an illness or disability.

 

We will have a chance to give the young women of the school a make-over to pamper them for a day and haircut for the men. We will also give gifts and bags of groceries to all the students of the facility.

An assessment will be made on what type of help we can offer some of the students after the visit.

 

Ø  Medical Mission – General Santos City

This will be our first time to arrange a mission trip to General Santos City and will be serving in one of the poorest community in General Santos City. Four medical doctors and dentists will be hired to give medical and dental treatments to 300 people. We will be purchasing medications for the following:

o   Fever, headaches and cough medicines

o   De-Wormers

o   Vitamins

o   Antiseptics and scabies medications

        

We will also be distributing bags of groceries to the families and milk for the babies.

  

Thank you so much for your continued love and support to Hatid Biyaya! Not only will we be giving gifts but more importantly to share the love of Jesus and hope that only comes from Him!

 

Sincerely,

 

 

Helen C. Roque and the Hatid Biyaya Mission Team

grey (coat) (moment)

sometimes i get stuck.

in a memory. pushing everyone out until i can remember each detail. closing my eyes to remember everything about him.

i dont care much for the surroundings of the memory. i automatically blur out where we are, who was there, what it looks like. its like my mind bokehs everything around the most important part – us. weirdly enough, this week, i’ve been focusing every intention on how it all felt.

the dryness of his hands holding mine. the lapel of his coat on my cheek. how his teeth must have felt when he seethed through his breaths. his eyes as they look down at me. the slow rhythm created by his head keeping time. whether i was a little girl, or a grown adult, slow dancing with my father was always monumental.

we had father daughter dances in high school. we went every year except my senior year – probably due to a cotillion or mutual laziness.  we’d get all dressed up, dance a little, laugh a lot, eat free food . everyone of our pictures looked like he was running for mayor. my favorite part though, which in retrospect seems natural, was dancing with my dad. as i think about, i’m surprised at all the times we had opportunities for dance to make its way into our relationship.

from dancing on his shoes to dancing when he (tried to) beat box to my dads “get it dance” to the cha cha to his “in the heights” impression to his “nutcracker ballet”. dance was always a part of our family. music, a key component.

sometimes i get sad thinking of the future dances we’ve lost. it makes me appreciate the dances we did have – especially the slow ones. while silliness through dancing was my dad’s bread and butter – slow dancing, is something he shared just with me and my mom. it was a time when he was the head of the family, the gentle provider, the sensitive father. he held me and my mom with the responsibility of eternity, smiled in the completion of a moment meant for the movies. it was simply, the perfection of heart.

Nelson Roque for Mayor! (don't hate on my ears and braces. Clariza represent.)

this week i am stuck on his memory. seemingly moved past regret and question. trapped in a memory unable to be relived.

babae

We are the women in waiting.

Holding secrets, sadness, and simplicities like sacred summons we will later use for symphonies.

We are the women in waiting,

the keepers of strength,

storing our stories for a worthy moment.

Releasing just enough to endure, for fear that too much release would disturb the

natural balance of insanity and beauty.

 

We take the tears of this generation, coupled with the screams of our youth & create the silence before revelation.

Rise on the stealth of support & mask it in empowerment for you to dwell on.

 

We are freedom and unapologetic flight,

Soaring in and out of improvised legends,

Occasionally stopping to be nourished but frequently giving nourishment.

Natural warriors, simultaneously navigating through and in the flow of love, pain, wonder.

Even in stillness, we remain relevant and reverent to the seeds our mothers planted through our ancestral instincts.

 

We are wine and laughter,

Honesty in tragedy ,

The chaotic acceptance that comes with change.

And that’s the thing about miracles,

They’re never meant to be understood.

And that, that’s what scares the unsure, rocks the uncertain.

 

But we will respond responsibly.

We will take your fears with both hands, infuse it using fingertips poisoned with our glamour and love the pain away.

 

Because from the chaos of a woman comes timeless inspiration.

From the vulnerability of a woman comes the ability to embrace humility.

From the body of a woman comes a madness that pushes art strokes.

 

We are the women in waiting.

Balancing loveliness and pain, legacy in epic proportions

We are the women in waiting,

turning survival into an art.

i find that i am anxious in the growing stability of my life. a new home. job. family. role. relationship. life. for the past 3 years, i’ve complained about the craziness that cancer brings but today, i find myself looking for it. longing for it. because i know that within it, my dad still exists.

in this time of rebirth i have had some random advice from strangers who encounter my situation.

“it will be hard. but one day, you will see the light and peace will be on you.”

“i know what its like and it will never get easier”

“i’m sorry about your loss. you know you can take up to 6 days for that right?”

i am everywhere and just here. i am wandering, moving, trying. i am new. sometimes i catch myself closing my eyes, and forcing memories of my dad to flood into thought. the inflections of his voice, his stories, the way he sits on his hands. i constantly regret not taping him while telling his stories, maybe i was too afraid to have a reason to, maybe i was trying to memorize every feature he owned. but this week, with that regret came a promise. to one day, write the crap out of his stories. to communicate every detail of the beautiful life he lived through paper. to give voice to the impact he had on this world. hmm..just a thought. a whisper. a promise.

*          *          *

My eyes are heavy, straining to see ahead.

My Dad at the wheel,

Mom with her feet up,

Listening to my Dad’s favorite jazz cds.

“Nowie, Nowie, tell me what’s happening here.”

“Dad, your music puts me to sleep.”

“No, Nowie, you have to listen to the story.

Listen, see this song is about a woman and her lover,

And something is wrong..”

He goes on to tell me about their made up love story,

I pretend to roll my eyes and entertain him with questions.

Inside,

I’m painting a picture of the couple.

In my head,

The woman was always wearing a black dress with red lining.

*

My Father was a storyteller. When he told stories, his eyes smiled. His hands created pictures. His words were a jumbled beauty. He was captivating. As I write, I can’t help but be overwhelmed with all of his stories. They flow from my fingertips like they were my birthright. From fights with the ECO boys, to how he used to run from piano lessons, to how he made me buy a new dress 15 minutes before prom. My dad’s stories are endless & moving.

Yet while I could stand here and recount all the adventures my dad chose, I sit and reflect on his silence. Over this past year, while my dad could literally talk my mother and I to sleep, we spent most of our time together in silence. Whether I was giving him medicine, driving him to an appointment, or feeding him, we sat together in a silence that was all our own.

In that silence I thought of his stories, his life, & his legacy. I tried to harness them into my psyche, secretly knowing he wanted them to live forever, never openly talking about the loss of a future together. In that silence, I held my dad’s hand & he transferred hope into my heart, strength into my vulnerability. His smiles laid love onto my soul & his kisses helped me to hide in his strength.

In that silence, strength was redefined; a mixture of acceptance, humility, and love. His will to fight and to continue to fight is one I will always be in awe of and thank him for.

So yes, I can stand here and talk about his stories, but instead, I will talk about what he taught me. Legacy. And not the type of legacy that stands in a big house, or a nice car. The type of legacy that lives through generations. That will be told to my nieces, nephews, children. The type of legacy that can be the story to a good jazz track.

5 Tips on Leaving a Legacy that I Learned from my Dad

1. Teach your daughter that men are scum and that you are the antidote.

This was the first lesson my Dad ever taught me. I grew up hearing horror stories of my dad’s women and failed dates. He never lied to me about what to expect from men, and on the flip side, he loved me with everything he had. Up to these last months, my dad would call me, “just to hear my voice.” He would try his hardest to make my dreams come true, he’d buy me roses and made sure I knew what real love was. Because of this lesson, my dad ensured that he was the standard & that I knew what to look for in a partner.

2. Barkada is Key

As you can see, my Dad was kind of friendly. We would often lose him

in public places because he was making new friends. Not only was he friendly, he embodied forgiveness and love. He had friends from so many different places & from all walks of life. From the ECO boys, to the siblings, to the PITTO group, to Word International, EAGLEROQ, StarBoys, he kept in touch and tried to really love them all. In turn, when my dad got sick, I saw what true community looked like. All those years he spent loving and forgiving never felt short, and in the last years of his life, he truly knew he was loved.

3. Even if you don’t have much to give, give.

Although I am an only child, I can’t remember a time where I lived

with just my parents & me.  My dad always opened our doors to family & friends who needed it. It was often that I’d come home and my dad would tell me he gave away something that was mine or his or my moms. I learned to smile about it (& of course ask for another one). We never had much but my dad taught me that whatever we did have, was also automatically anyone’s else’s if they needed it.

4. “What do you mean you can’t?”

When I was young, my punishment was doing book reports. In all

meanings of the phrase, my dad pushed me. Believed in me. Never took, “I can’t” as an answer. I think he thought that some of his intelligence transferred to me or that I was meant for something great. Whatever his reasons, he taught me to work hard and dream big. Talent and dreams can always be cultivated into success.

 

5. Always, always do it with style.

My dad had style. From his clothes, to the way he ate, to the way he carried himself. Charisma. Swag. He took over the new world through loving others. Forging wisdom with laughter, and never overdoing it. My Father was unlike any man I have ever known.

In the last months of my Dad’s life, I struggled with the idea of “praise.” I would ask God, “What could I possibly praise You for right now?” In the midst of the suffering and the pain we all felt, I still praised God but didn’t know why.

On the day we cremated my dad, it hit me. I praise Jesus for a wonderful Father. For 26 full years experiencing a love than some daughters simply dream of. I praise God for a family that listened to records on the weekend and went to festivals and enjoyed art. I praise God that I have countless memories of my parent’s slow dancing and holding hands. I praise God for my dad’s legacy, that left my mother and I with more family and friends to support us than I could ever imagine. I praise Jesus for an intimate relationship with a man who taught me to imagine with no limits, never lose faith, and to push until I succeeded.

I praise God that my dad smiled so much I will never forget it. That his music will always transport his stories into my mind.  That he had a way with words that can only come from the mind of a genius.

I thank God for letting my Dad’s blood run through my veins. It the bloodline of strength, simplicity, and serenity.

Thank you everyone for being a part of my Father’s legacy, I pray that together we can celebrate it, learn from it, and never forget it.

#ninangduties

parties. i heart you. themed parties? i live for you.

ive always loved planning and gathering people to celebrate, but within the past couple years i’ve stepped up my game a little and started getting excited about themed parties.. and as satisfying as facebook is, i just felt a need to document them more..

the latest was my niece’s 3rd birthday – a yo gabba gabba themed party. as mentioned before, yo gabba gabba was #2 on the list of things that have gotten me motivated .. so i think that alone makes it deserving of it’s own blog post.

preparty sweatshop

my elementary photoshop skills put to use haha

jill & nika rolling fondant

4 hours = 6 gabba lantern hahaha thanks jun!

making dj lance rock chocolate covered marshmallows

nika's finished boombox red velvet cake

4 hours later ... 70 marshmallow pops done !

dj lance rock & his homies for center pieces

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LANIE !!

the birthday girl

anna made homemade favors - animal crackers decorated like boomboxes !

the spread

dj lance rock dunny & boombox pinata

anna doing her martha stuart thing - homemade coloring books !

 

success!!

yup. personalized banner. hahah

$1 popcorn, pail, and mallows..thas wassup

happy birthday lanie!! we <3 you

oh yes i did.

during this past month, it’s been hard to do anything except eat (ha) so it’s really interesting when i actually have motivation to do anything beyond being w my dad and again ..eating.

the two things that have inspired me to get out of my pajamas this month?

::harry potter & yo gabba gabba::

yea, i said it.

i realized that i have turned to children’s fiction many times in the past few years to indulge in a little escapism. with a life and emotional resume that resembles a harry potter novel, escaping is not only fun but necessary. at 11, trauma stunted my growth as a child with wide eyes, and reading children’s lit helps me reclaim, relive, revel in some of that which was lost.

i am at best obsessed with harnessing the simplicity, magic, and humility of childhood.i am not nor ever will be too old to escape into semi realities that the wildly creative imagine for us to enjoy. these joys keep the elation of innovation alive. they hold naivety in a state of wonder. wide eyed and magicked, i can remain in the fantasies that are threatened by reality. i let them transport me to a simpler time, connecting to the parts of me that were unafraid to dream.

i’m sorry but i dont want to ever lose the idealistic child in me. the little left that will push me to make stories with my reveries. that will keep me awestruck by new worlds because i constantly feel myself unwillingly growing up.

so i will hold on for dear life to the wonder that flickers in me. to the things that connect me to innocence.

don’t judge me…. cuz as dianne says, if you you do, “i’ll magic you..”

harry potter forever !!

malandan crew .. thanks jill for watching all 7 movies in 1 week haha

i'm sorry i told you harry was demonic hahahha

tattoo sisters....now we HAVE to be friends forever haha

with our tattoo artist danny...who probably thought these were the dumbest tattoos ever haha

i made butterbeer flavored - snitch looking - cake balls

there it is .. my ode to harry, nerdiness, and the beauty of childhood. (yes its blurry and yes imma have to get it redone .. fail haha)

so why not, end with a list.

THE TOP 5 THINGS THAT ARE SURPRISINGLY HELLA HARD WHEN LETTING A FINGER TATTOO HEAL

1. Dealing with my bra.

2. Playing with kids at a water park.

3. Eating crab & shrimp.

4. Texting.

5. Going #2 and using my non dominant hand…hahah .. tmi?

my father the cat.

5^th life.

bien-elize rOque

You told me to smile when you cried,

To die if you died,

To live and let life.

 

My walls had already fallen at the sound of your voice trembled,

pleading prayers for my soul.

Worried whispers emitted from my core,

surrounding us as we slept in the rainforest.

 

Could you feel each communal connection made between each stroke of my thumb on your chest, holding back my screams to ask you if it was all a dream?

We were stripped to bare silence,

yet I, still saw you, strong.

Bombs explode onto faces in the image of tears,

And days add their presence onto your countenance

But you remain to be all you’ve been.

 

In 5 rounds of the sun,

My world is destroyed and yet you,

my Father abounding in love,

stay beside me,

making sure life does not abandon us.

Your wise eyes steal glances,

remind me that there’s hope on the other side of the horizon.

Your strong stature sits softly,

still singing me to sleep.

            May tomorrow, be a perfect day.

May it bring fun and laughter along the way.

May God bless you, in a special way and may we see each other again.

May we see each other again.

Because you’ve got me writing encrypted with freedom

And I,

I’m telling sweet colored butterflies to tell my mother

That her family will survive.

My father will bring us home.

We will, come home.

*            *            *

Dad, your love is safe,

And I cannot remember a time when your love did not exist.

It is the miracle that synchronizes family with sacred,

holding us in expectation.

 

Your love wraps us in joy.

Pushing us, reminding us to enjoy

the laughter that sits at the bottom of our symphonies.

 

So here we are.

A family cultivated through chaos,

Fighting for a love that secures my future so long as I keep you my standard.

Because you are proof that your will for survival is more powerful than fear.

That the miracles of your mind can and will move mountains with push pins.

That dreams don’t belong in sleep.

 

You are faith personified.

Your stories linger through my heart as your legacy,

Speaking life through epiphanies

I will sit and listen to everything

Let your strength engulf me

Please teach me how to live successfully.

 

Because you are the dream we’ve all secretly wanted.

You are inspiration, laughter, lover, dreamer, music maker, storyteller, brother, husband, friend, father.

And I hope you know,

with every pale moon/new song

b/c you are,

I am.