Meaningful words from an empty heart.

So, as we drove to school this morning, my mother asked me to say a prayer for my Dad. He has an interview today. She turned down the radio, got my sister's attention, and waited for my less than enthused self to pray a prayer that would fix any ailments and ease any worries. Surprisingly, the words that spilled out next were uplifting and resembled prayers spewed by pastors and ministers alike. I thanked God, asked for strength and referenced and inner light and tied it all back into his "comforting" ways. After the wave of satisfaction from having busted out a legitimate message to el Dios, I realized how empty the words were. Rather than a sense of completion or comfort, I questioned to what extent I had strayed from what I once believed. I'm in no way stating that I no longer believe in God or that I lied when I said those things, I just think that my many Sunday school classes said that prayer, not me.
For so long I have been the one in my family looked to to write an invitation or sign a card...now I feel prayer has just been added to the list. Just look to me when you need to sound Christian, because Lord knows that you shouldn't look to me to act it. Living in a strict Catholic home lately has effected my sense of self. I am guilty and quiet, and I don't know why. When I used to wake up to a window on my right, I wake up to a crucifix and a picture of Mary. I feel lost in a personal haunted house, filled with dead saints and living rules.

Well boys and girls, we'll be moving from our religion class to our history.

Since the move I have been less than excited to go "home". It is not that I feel unwelcome, I just feel trapped beneath a magnifying glass. My aunt calls me "the girl who never comes out of her room". I've decided to take it as a compliment.
What old Mexican values haven't recognized, though, is the constant and deathly need to study...and facebook. Outside of the two I am at school, the SRC, or sleeping. VH1 would hardly be interested in this day in the life.
It's weird though. I am scared to go anywhere in the house after 9 because everyone is asleep and, should I get home at that time, dinner is not an option. Not that I am starving, but it's one of those house guest type moments. Sure, they've told you that you're free to anything in the fridge and whatever else, but are you really going to go steal their steak and rummage through their drawers? Nope. And I realized how much family I have in Santa Ana this week. Every day, as we drive toward the 55n, we see a family member on the way to work/school. Not once has it been the same person, which means that the Perchez family has taken over Southern California, watch out.

From history, we move to math.

That's a lie. I'm just going to update on school and the related. Classes are going well, for being classes. My Political Science teacher is a bit off though. He sounds like Bill Cosby with a slurr and teaches from memory. I don't know how I feel about my inability to understand him let alone the subject itself. I feel I would succeed had it not been for his "foreign" tongue. Math is more entertaining to me, which says a lot. One, I usually HATEHATEHATE math, two, I am actually good at it this semester. It's weird, I know, but it's something about an Egyptian man that really gets my calculator revving.
Chicano Studies is AMAZING. Not only have we discussed the importance of food in the Mexican culture, we've seen and spoken of all of American history from the perspective of Chicanos. It is so incredibly enlightening and I wish that we had learned this, the true story, in grade school. Did you know that Columbus is the the Mexican people as Hitler is to the Jewish? You learn something new everyday. My geology class is fun, but uninformative. I have been to every class and feel like building a volcanoe would be more effective. The test was surprisingly hard, but I didn't study. So, there's that. And my art class! What a joke! For those of you who know me, I have partaken in some artistic tendencies and seen an art class or two, but this is disgusting. The "professor" opened the class with a discussion on the "old show" Laguna Beach. And, although she had a chance to tie it into the beauty of the ocean or SOMETHING relevant, she continued on to say how fun it is for her to say "Jessica! Stephen!" I have grown progressively less intelligent since I have enrolled in the class. To ice that wretched cake she calls an education, she has shown us the same exact powerpoint everyday since class started. Can I PLEASE be given a better example of what a college education gets you?

Onto language arts kids?

I speak all of this at you, not in a pessimistic or resentful manner, but in one of fact. I am not unhappy nor am I angry about anything but my art "professor". Otherwise I am surprised at how easily I have acclimated to all these new situations I've been confronted by. I am simply happy to be at school, almost paid, and surrounded by some neat people. That's a lie, it is before 9am in the offices, I am surrounded by no one. I wouldn't doubt if all of the Exec office is dead asleep right now. I wish I could be too.
Regardless of my lack of sleep, I am happy. And glad I could update everyone (i.e. Kami).

Have a great day kiddos, same time next week?