And another one approaches.  Just when you think that the typhoons are through terrorizing our island, you get slammed with another one.  With winds of up to 100mph, you know that if not catastrophic, this will at least be devastating.  As a boy who has grown up on this island, I am no stranger to tropical depressions, tropical storms, typhoons, and whatever else may have you.  And truth be told, it's not the aftermath of the storm that I dread the most.  Truth is, I really dread having to wait in the dark during the storm, because there's really nothing to do.  You don't really feel like playing cards when there's winds that are threatening to blow down your door, and you can't really talk to anyone on the phone for much too long because your mom and brother are on the side cleaning some water off the living room floor.  What is there really to do during a storm?  I don't see much that there is to keep your time occupied besides sleep and clean, and I already a lot of that done when the weather is perfect! 

You know what the best part of typhoons are, though?  When the storm is all done throwing things around and flooding our island with rain water, the funnest part comes out when its time to assess and repair.  Oddly enough, I live for the first moment that you open your front door after the storm to see the damages.  Maybe its the thrill of seeing what had happened to your yard, or your neighbor's yard, or anyone's yard for that matter.  Maybe its the huge rush you get when you see things like street lamps that really shouldn't be anywhere other than a street light post, like a library roof or hanging out of the gym wall.  Or maybe its the feeling you get knowing that in a few days, the house will be all straightened out and all you'll really have to do is sit around and wait for your power and water to come back on...in about two months or so.  Those times, although extremely inconvenient, emphasize what Guam is really about--family.  When there is no power or running water or any of life's current taken-for-granted conveniences, you're forced to sit back and rely on other forms of entertainment to keep you occupied.  No television, no internet, no radio; just the dim light of a candle in the middle of your kitchen counter and a deck of cards.  And of course cards aren't all that fun to play without other players, so naturally you call on your familly.  And this, ladies and gentlemen, is exactly what I'm getting at.  The quality time that you spend with those that you normally don't see all that much during regular daily life becomes more abundant, and the bonds that once were there during your childhood are, if not restrengthened, then at least refreshed.  The casual conversation about anything and everything, the constant laughter shared between one another, the long-forgotten latent jokes that only your family knows; all of these aspects contribute to a spectacular time that you would not have had if things like storms and power and water outages did not occur.  There's something special about having to fetch water from the pier in order to flush your toilet, and for some reason or other, I cannot help but imagine what it must be like for the Amish communities that must produce manual labor on a daily basis in order to maintain their society and the bonds that they creat in the process of doing so.  Their family ties and values must be incredibly strong, unbreakable even during the worst of times.  Don't underestimate the goodness that comes when you spend time with your family because it is this goodness that will sustain you not only throughout the rest of the storm's aftermath, but throughout the rest of your life. 

This thought of mine has lead me to wonder why, in today's world, is it only during the most trying of times do we pull together as a family and a community?  Why must it take the worst things to happen before we realize what was there all along?  Why do we not "know what we've got until its gone?"  This is tragic, to say the least.  In small family units, when the children have all grown up and establish seperate and independant lives for themselves, it is common to see in the American culture very little contact with one another.  As soon as one of their parents die, however, everyone gets together for the funeral plans and start to spend more time with one another.  When a eulogy is read, they say the best things about a person, but does it really matter when they're dead?  In a novel entitled "Tuesdays With Morrie" by Mitch Albom, he tells a story of a young man who has befriended one of his college professors during his undergraduate studies.  As time passed and he had graduated from college, he still remained in contact with his old professor, dropping by from time to time to see how he was doing.  One on of his visits, the professor had told him that he wanted to have a "living funeral," one in which the eulogy was read while the professor was still alive and capable of hearing what others think of him.  Please do not think this is vain.  This man was simply seeking the truth of others and how they view him.  I thought that this was an incredible idea, although I may not do it.  This just goes to show that we wait far too long to tell people how much we love them and how much we appreciate all that they do for us.  Good lesson learned.

And in bigger communites, like the entire United States of America.  "United We Stand" was the phrase coined for the tragic 9/11 eventa that happened in 2001.   It is just too bad that we stand united only when tragedy hits home.  Why did it have to take for Osama bin Laden and his Al Quaida terrorist group to crash into the World Trade Center for us to finally take up an American flag and fly it proudly?  Why did it take 1000+ lives before we embraced one another and told them how we feel?  Why did it take such tragic events for us to realize that we are a community, we are a country, we are a nation, and not a bunch of individuals who were just coincidently born in the same area?  These unfortunate facts exist among us whether we like it or not.  Hopefully, it will not take another Pearl Harbor, another 9/11, or another death in the family before we realize who we are as a whole and who we love as individuals.

Haha…here’s a question for the day:  What makes you fall in love?  If you haven’t already encountered this question, or if you’re having trouble answering it right off the bat, rest assured that you’re not alone.  Kristle asked me this question last night, and I was stumped.  In the heat of the moment, I had answered her with some vague references to compassion and happiness, but the more I think about it, the more I’m stumped.  I don’t want to rule out the possibility of human beings having one particular quality that will guarantee that they fall in love, but I think it’s highly unlikely.  When someone falls in love, they begin to care on levels that they never knew existed.  No matter how many times one falls in love, each and every time feels different, as if they had never fallen in love before.  That’s the mysterious effect of love, and to say that it can be achieved by simply observing one specific characteristic of one’s partner is not only irresponsible, but without true depth to it.  I became extremely interested in this question when it was posed to me, and I decided that I’d make a blog out of it.  Here goes:

 

“What makes you fall in love, John?  I want to know…”  So would I, dammit; so would I.  If I had to make an assumption, my best guess would be the way that one person carries herself.  She has to be a woman first and foremost.  She must know how to handle herself as a lady in every situation, exuding maturity and well thought-out decisions and answers.  She must know when is an appropriate time to say some things, and when it is appropriate to say other things.  She must know what acts are appropriate and what acts are not.  She must know when to back down if she is wrong, and she must know when to stand up if she believes she is right.  She must know the difference between “dinner talk” and regular conversation, and she must confer respect when respect is due.  The most important part about it, however, would probably be that she must possess genuine humanity. 

 

When someone is humane, when someone is caring of other people, then it can be assumed that person is automatically a good person.  You can assume that one has a good heart solely based on how they treat others.  If one treats another with genuine hospitality and care, then is it possible for them to be evil people?  If it is genuine, mind you, is what I am getting at.  If it comes from the heart, then you know the heart must be of good nature.  When I see this in woman, I get weak in the knees.  I know of very little people who will go out of their way to help a friend who has a fever, or people who will stay in contact with long lost friends that have drifted apart along the way.  Things like this show that one is truly beautiful, and things like this also get me.  I’m a sucker for compassion, and for some reason or other, I can’t help but fall.

 

You see, I have been blessed from the Lord above to know of a few of these kinds of people.  Of particular importance would be three people I would like to take the time out to mention.  Joan Aguon, a soul among many who shines among the brightest.  This person has shown, time and time again, that it is the others that make her the happiest.  I have seen her go out of her way to make sure others are taken care of.  I have seen her put others’ interests before her own, and this makes her a beautiful person.  She knows how to show that she appreciates others, and she is deserving of nothing less.  Anna Stroud, an angel if I’ve ever seen one.  This woman epitomizes the “good Catholic,” with extreme love and kindness to all she comes in contact with.  Besides the fact that she’s extremely close to her church, her friends and family are what matter to her the most.  It is easy to see her out with many a friend, laughing with that unique laugh that only she has.  This is not just to get out, mind you; she is out with all of these different people in an effort to spread herself out and make the most with the time she spends with everyone.  She doesn’t exclude anyone from the party; on the contrary, because she’s such a beautiful person, the party comes to her.  And then there’s Kristle…

 

Kristle, Butterfly, Kris, 3, Bobat…whatever it is you want to call her, this woman has it all.  Among thousands and thousands of beautiful qualities, I believe the one that God Himself made sure she had was compassion.  If compassion was a book, Kristle would be the author.  This woman, in all honesty, knows how to take care of others.  From family to friends to foes, Kristle is one to show as much love as she possibly could.  Need an ear to listen to you, Kristle is there.  Need a shoulder to cry on, Kristle is there.  Need to hear a joke to brighten up your day, Kristle is there.  Need to see beauty in a world where evil and ugliness surrounds us all, Kristle is there.  It’s amazing how caring this woman can be at times, and admittedly, I sometimes do not believe how she does it.  How she puts up with the weight of the world while shouldering her own is unknown to me, and I’ll forever be in awe of her awesome capabilities.  When she smiles at you, somehow you know that everything will be all right.  Call it magic, call it divine grace, call it whatever you want.  The truth is, Kristle is a human being worth knowing.  If ever you should lose sight of what beauty truly is, minus all the commercialization and expectations that the world has placed on it, then look no further—Kristle is a butterfly among us caterpillars.

 

So what makes me fall in love?  As I have said before, there are just too many things, too many beautiful qualities that people may have, to identify just one thing.  But what I do know is that of these endless possibilities, compassion is what takes the cake.  Compassion, or the selfless love one gives to another, is what peaks my interest, and I am so happy to say that I have found someone who is as interesting as I’ll ever know.

Not too recently, I’ve taken an incredible curiosity to our native culture.  I’ve become engrossed in our ancient history and what it has ultimately done for our culture today.  I’ve taken a great liking to every aspect of our culture, from chewing betel nut to amening our elders.  All of this is taking me by storm, and for some reason I can’t seem to get it off my mind.  In light of this, I was yet again thinking about our culture while helping to set up a couple of canopies for my Auntie Carol’s Mayoral Party tonight.  It was so extremely interesting to see how many different aspects could be observed through the simple act of setting up a canopy.  It is here that I leave you with some interesting—and funny—things about the Chamorro culture.

 

1)Why is it that whenever someone is bushcutting, we can never take our eyes off of    them?  It seems as if we lose ourselves in watching the bushcutting wire twirl at speeds too fast for our eyes to register, cutting down thick patches of grass and long weeds that have grown over time.  I myself was lost in the action, and I happened to glance around to see how many others were doing just the same.  To my surprise, almost everyone in the area had been paying close attention to the lone bushcutter.  It was as if no one had ever seen anyone bushcut before, yet it’s a practiced part of our culture that’s been around for ages!  Name one Chamorro that you know who actually mows their lawn, and I’ll show you a Chamorro who has been living in the states for too long.

 

2)      So how many Chamorros does it really take to set up two canopies.  If you ask me, I’d tell you that at the most it should take four people, with one for each leg on one respective side of the canopy; when those four are finished putting the legs in one the one side, they can simply move over to the next and do the same.  As far as putting the pipes into the connectors, throwing the tarp on top and placing their bungee cords in their respective holes, two people can do that with much ease.  TODAY THERE WERE 12.  It took twelve able-bodied Chamorros to put up a 30x50 friggin’ canopy!  If that’s not a waste of manpower, then I don’t know what is.  And the same can be said for construction and utility workers.  How many times have you driven on Marine Corps Drive and seen 6 water-works workers—all smoking cigarettes, mind you—crowding around two men who are doing the actual digging to get to the pipe?  C’mon…if you can’t empathize with me on this one, then you’re one terrible Chamorro.

 

3)      Aren’t Chamorro men so egotistical?  While hanging out at the community center waiting for the canopies to arrive, one woman suggested that someone should bushcut the grassy area that the canopies would eventually sit on.  As soon as someone said that, every man in the room—excluding myself and Adam, of course—jumped at the chance.  You could tell that no one did it because they were fond of bushcutting; let’s face it, no one in their right mind would be fond of bushcutting.  Everyone jumped at the chance to bushcut, however, because there were women in our presence.  Everyone wanted to show one another up, and for a little bit, there was a little debate as to who was going to bushcut!  Can you believe that?  They were actually slightly arguing over who the hell was gonna do the manual labor!  And when one guy finally got a hold of the bushcutter, he was bushcutting so fast and furiously (in an attempt to impress the ladies, I’m sure) that he missed so many spots.  He then went back to these spots and patched them up, oh-so-nonchalantly mumbling something to the effect of, “Lanya, I didn’t see this spot!” or “I couldn’t do this one because there was the rocks right there.”  This aspect even rang true as we were setting up the canopy.  It started to rain incredibly hard, and although most of the people stopped working and got out of the rain, a select few of the men stayed out there, drenched and cold as one can ever be, and continued to work.  There was absolutely no reason why they should have done this, because we were working at about noon and the party didn’t start until 7pm.  What was it all for?

 

4)   Why is it that whenever Chamorros threaten one another, whether it be playful or not, always use the term, “I’ll punch you in your own mouf,” ?  Why must they do this?  Today, that saying must have been repeated at least 100 times, and I was getting so irritated.  EVERYONE was saying it, right down to the little kids that were running around the community center playing hide-and-seek.  The one that got me, however, was this high school girl.  She had been playing around with Robert (the guy who won the bushcutter fight) and Robert had said something about her mother and she replies with, “Just for that, I’m going to punch you in your mouf, Roberto!”  Wow.

 

Those were just some funny little things I was noticing while setting up those damn canopies.  I had a kick out of them, and I hope you did too!

   Here I am, sitting at a circular table with chairs surrounding me in the cafeteria of the University of Guam.  I sit here with a friend of mine that I just met this semester.  His name is Kai.  Kai, a recent graduate from Afnorth High School in northern Europe, has just returned home to Guam after nearly five years in Europe and another five years in Las Vegas.  His mom is in the military, so he moved around quite a bit.  I asked him what motivated him to go to college, expecting answers like, "I want a degree," or "Because it's the thing to do."  I got nothing like that.  When asked, he responded with, "Because of my Dad.  He gave me a choice: college or the military."  This is an extremely resepctable reason to attend college; and even it it wasn't, at least he's going to school, right?  Some people, even when prompted from their parents or friends, don't take the initiative to go to school and further their knowledge.  Some people just don't give a damn, and that's so sad.  In this sense, Kai's reason for going to college is just as good as any.  It isn't mine, though.  Just recently, I asked myself why I was going to college.  I asked myself if I was going to school because all my friends were going to school.  I asked myself if I was going to school because my mom went to school, or even because my mom wants me to go to school.  I asked myself if I was going to school only because it felt like the "right" thing to do and that without an education, I wouldn't make it in life.  I also asked myself if I was going to school because I had nothing else to do, nothing else to occupy my time.  All of these reasons for going to school are extremely common among our college-going youth.  Whether it's admitted or not, most college students are not attending on their own free will.  Most are either forced by their parents or pressured by them; in any of these cases, they are not attending because they want to.  
   
   This can cause many a problem.  I just read in yesterday's Pacific Daily News (Guam's main newspaper)--in the Dear Abby column--that depression is common among incoming college freshmen, and it was found that most of these depressed college freshmen were either forced by their parents or felt enormous pressure to go to college.  It's obvious that college is not for everyone.  In fact, college is not for most people.  Only one percent (1%) of the entire earth's population is actually college-educated with a degree.  If that does not say that college is not for everyone, then I'm not sure what will.  People must understand that they do not have to go to college.  It is not shameful if one does not choose to go to college.  In fact, most of America's top computer technicians--such as Microsoft founders Bill Gates and Paul Allen--either never went to college or did not finish.  This goes to show that success is possible minus a college degree, and it's entirely up to the individual what they do with their life.  Although a college degree will undoubtedly help one in their climb up the "success ladder," it is not necessary.  But anyway...

   That was not the point of this blog (sorry, lol).  I mentioned Kai's reason for college in this blog so that I can emphasize mine.  As I was saying, I was pondering my reasons for college just recently.  I cannot honestly say that I started college completely on my own terms.  Like a lot of other people, my mom was indirectly pressuring me to go to college, always asking things like, "Did you fill out your financial aid applications," and "So, have you thought about what you're going to do with your life after high school," without ever really asking if I was going to go to college.  I guess she figured that this way, she would not be forcing me or pressuring me to attend college but she could still get her message across.  Point taken.  That, and all my friends were going to college--ALL OF THEM.  Those four that I considered my best friends in the world were all going to college, most of them on the mainland.  Only one was staying here on Guam, and she only stayed because she got the Merit Scholarship which paid for her tuition and books in full.  I, on the other hand, had not yet decided come graduation day, and I broke under pressure.  I decided that I would attend and see how it went, if only to shut my mom up and follow the norm, I guess.  But that was then.  Since my return home from Oregon and my attendance at the University of Guam, I have come to realize that I now want to be in college.  I no longer feel any pressure from anyone to go to college, and I am completely aware that it's my choice whether or not I attend.  I'm fully capable of just working for a living, and hopefully landing a job that leaves room for promotions and creating a career out of that.  Or, I could join the military, where I will have a guaranteed job along with full healthcare benefits.  What's wrong with that?  Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  I have, however, realized that my thirst for knowledge is ever-growing now that I am in college.  I find myself wanting to learn more, wanting to learn the secrets of the world.  In every class that I am enrolled in, I lose myself in the lectures, soaking in all the knowledge I possibly could in the allotted 80 minutes of class.  I love to learn about the world in its social aspect the most, however.  I love to learn about how the world is interdependant, whether we're aware of it or not.  Just recently I learned the connection between the United States' growing demand for cell phones and other technological conveniences that has become common in the western world and the emergence of what has been dubbed Africa's "First World War," involving the looting of one of Africa's most abundant resources and, not coincidently, the sole natural resource that powers our cellular phones--tantalum.  Things like that peak my interest immensely, and for this reason alone I know that I am in college beause of reasons that pertain to me and nobody else.  I'm here for my personal benefit, and not to please anybody else.  It is this philosophy that I believe people should attend college for.  If college students went to school with this mentality, I believe productivity and academic success would become more consistent and evident because these people will be motivated to attend college, thus lessening the "skip-class" rate and the drop-out rate.  If only my fellow classmates could see college and education in this same light, the world would become a more enlightened world, with educated and knowledgable people crawling in every corner of God's green earth.  If only...

   In no way am I professing that I am better than anyone else.  In no way am I saying that because I am in college, I am that much better and that much more demanding of respect than those that do not.  No, this is not the intent.  Please, dear viewer, understand that the point of this blog was to profess my enlightenment, my brand-new thirst for knowledge.  I feel as if my eyes have been opened for the first time to things outside of my existing world.  I now understand that there are a lot of other things that are going on than I ever imagined, and the things I do here at home might have been caused by things going on in countries that I have never even heard of.  This is the point of this blog, because I find this topic most interesting.  I hope you did too. 

   

 PLEASE VOTE: CAROL SABLAN TAYAMA (KENG) FOR AGAT MAYOR!!!!!

                                                            

   My mom's sister, Auntie Carol, is running for Agat mayor.  Yesterday (Friday), they had their first official motorcade and supposedly the biggest wave they have had so far.  The support, according to my mom and cousin Jenny, was overwhelming, easily topping fifty people with at least twenty-five cars lined up, honking and waving and screaming out my auntie's name in rally of her mayoral journey towards office.  Fifty people may not sound like a lot when compared to what we're used to during gubanatorial election years, but considering the size of Agat, and the variety of candidates vying for the seat of Mayor, fifty people is quite impressive. 
   
   My auntie Carol, the eldest daughter of my grandparents' offspring, has been a recognizable face in the community for as long as I can remember.  A retiree from the Government of Guam, she has served as a teacher, an assistant principal, and finally retired at the position of principal.  After retirement, she felt her need to serve the youth of our village and island was not quite fulfilled, so she returned, this time as a Consulting Resource Teacher (CRT), specializing in children with special needs.  Along with the aforementioned positions she has held, she's also been a member of the Catholic Daughters of America and is the current Vice President of the Christian Mothers Organization.  She has sponsored numerous activities among the youth, including the Agat Cardinals, who participated in the recent youth baseball league.  This woman, I truly believe, is well-capable of holding the position of Mayor in our village.  She is dedicated to serving our community to the best of her capabilities, and I have no doubt in my mind that she will do just that.
  
    The point?  Last night, as I have mentioned, was the biggest wave and motorcade of her campaign so far.  It happened yesterday, the day before the Primary Elections, which is currently being held today, September 3, 2004.  In appreciation of all the support she received, auntie Carol held dinner that same night at her residence, which is right next to my house.  Dinner was served, and for entertainment, a kareoke machine was brought out, to which most of the people participated in.  I did not attend the motorcade or the wave because I had to go into work.  The dinner, however, I would not have missed for the world.  I went down next door to greet everyone, but I did not stay.  I took my food, my drinks, and my candy and went back to my place, where I could eat and relax in the comfort and privacy of my own home.  After I was done eating, I heard some very loud singing, and instantly remembered that there had been a kareoke machine.  I went outside to my patio, which is adjacent to my auntie Carol's garage and the location of the dinner, and had a seat on my ballister to listen to the people sing.  This simple act is what inspired this blog. 

   Kareoking has been a favorite part of the Chamorro culture for as long as I can remember.  My mom went kareoking, my older sister went kareoking, and now that I am old enough, I have found myself in a kareoke bar once or twice--the point is that it is a favorite among the locals of Guam.  As I sat there, listening to them belt out tunes like "My Hear Will Go On" by Celine Dion and "I Just Called to Say I Love You" by Stevie Wonder, I began to think about how our culture is so influential in how one grows up and eventually lead their own lives.  As I gazed down towards the garage, I noticed that almost everyone there had a similar way of how they looked, how they talked, how they dressed, how they laughed.  Even their sense of humor were all reminiscent of each other, and I couldn't help but realize that it's because of the culture that they grew up in.  All of the supporters that were present for the kareoking were among the elderly, 50's and beyond.  They all grew up during pre-technology times, relying on each other and their enviroment to keep them company and entertain them.  This brought a great deal of "togetherness" to the community that they grew up in, something that we, products of Generation X, all but lack.  They know how to have fun with each other, just kareoking and enjoying each other's laughs, and we know how to have fun with XBOX's and Computer games.  They know how to scale a coconut tree and husk and grind the fruit, we know how to select a home page from the internet whenever we get online.  They chew pugua, we're drinking Red Bull.  We're so completely different from our parents, and although I know that it's inevitable beause each generation is different, I sometimes find myself longing for the knowledge and experience that they have.  I sometimes find myself wishing that I grew up in the fifties, where everyone knew everyone by not only their names, but they could've identified where everyone lived and who their parents were.  Nowadays, I can't even remember someone's name two minutes after I meet them.  My parents, and those who have grown up along with them, were blessed in ways that we will never know.  They grew up without the luxury of "convenience," more commonly known as technology.  They grew up the hard way, laying the foundation for the padded roads we, their kids, are now driving on.  I love my generation, and I love how catered to we all are.  I just think that it would've been nice to grow up in their time because it's blatantly evident that their morals and values, although similar, are polor opposites from ours.  We may share the same general values--respect for elders, the "Hafa Adai" spirt, etc.--but we  don't appreciate or understand them the way they do.  We often times think that our parents are so uncool because they aren't with the times.  I say our parents are cool because they aren't with the times.

And yet another storm comes our way.  If you've read my most recent entry prior to this one, then you'll understand what storms mean to me. 

I apologize for the lack of updates.  I really don't have a good reason for not updating.  Truth is, I just haven't found the time.  I go to the gym in the mornings, I attend school full-time, and then work in the evenings; if I haven't found time for blogging, trust that I haven't really found time for myself.  Lately, I've been doing a lot of thinking.  Maybe the weather is provoking my thoughts, maybe the realization that my life has just taken a turn that was as unexpected as ever is what's causing it--whatever the case, I know that I haven't been myself lately.  I'll do my best to fill you all in. 

As you should already know, I recently re-caught my butterfly.  I had my butterfly at one point, but for some reason, that butterfly decided that it wasn't the right time to be with me and she flew away.  Now that she's back, however, it has caused me to think a lot of things through.  I knew, for instance, that entering into a long-distance relationship was going to be rough--I knew this from the start.  But because I've had experience with it--Kristle and I engaged in a long-distance relationship the first time around--I thought that it wouldn't be that difficult.  I was wrong.  This time around seems as if the difficulty level jumped from "Beginner" to "Super-duper Advanced."  It's so much harder this time, and I'm not going to lie and say that it won't take it's toll on me.  I know it's going to get hard--much harder than it is now--and I know that things won't let up until I see her again.  But I've also come to understand a little bit more about myself because of this.  I've recently realized that the distance, although as painstaking as it may be, won't do anything but help our relationship.  CRAZY!, right?  That's what you're thinking?  You're thinking, "This guy thinks that distance is going to help his relationship...lunatic!"  I know, I know--it sounds absurd.  But I look at it like this:  what doesn't kill me makes me stronger, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger.  This distance I take as a test, an obstacle I must conquer in order to appreciate what I have when she is around.  In that sense, then, I know that the distance will have it's positive effect on me.  God-willing, we'll get through this chapter of our relationship and move on to a better and brighter future.  Amen.

Man, this is terrible.  I want to write so much more, but because my laptop has a terrible battery life, I'm forced to get offline.  Why can't I plug it in?  It's a long story, but know that it's impossible.  I promise to update more when I'm on a more reliable power source--an outlet, maybe.  Until then, I hope this satisfies my audience--who have made it known that my absence of blogs have gone all but unnoticed--until the next time I update.  I love you all, but most especially, I love my butterfly...

Typhoon Chaba, yet another storm threatening our tiny island of Guam, is well on its way to it's closest approach to Guam.  The rain and winds have been pounding us heavily, and it seems as if sunlight is years away.  Yet through all of this--through all of the wind, rain, and ugly weather--I can't help but smile at what is upon us.  A typhoon, you see, is one of the most prolific reminders that I have of my butterfly.  It was during Typhoon Pongsona that her and I first started talking, and talk we did!  We talked all throughout the storm, sometimes braving the aftermath of the storm to see each other.  They were incredible times, and as Chaba slowly makes it way to Guam, I dream of once again holding my butterfly in my arms, where I will keep her warm for the rest of her life. 

I'm not going to blog much, because history has led me to believe that our power will be out soon enough, and my laptop's battery is all but defunct; I've gotta save what little battery power I have, you know?  I just thought I'd drop in and blog a tiny one to let you know what this storm is going to mean to me, and what, I hope, it means to her as well.  To all who check this and are still on island, please be safe during this storm.  Take care of what needs to be taken care of, and I'll see you all after the rain!!!

And so Anna Hands is gone, and I didn't even find the nerve to go and see her off at the airport.  Pathetic, I know... 

For anyone who really cares for any reason that I may offer for my absence, my alarm clock didn't go off, plain and simple.  I set it for 3:50a.m., slept, and woke up at 5:15.  By that time, I already knew it was too late and went back to sleep.  That's the honest truth, and I'm OK with it as long as both God and I know it. 

So why do I still feel horrible?  Well, subtract the fact that I promised Anna that I would be at the airport, and subtract the fact that Joan and Austin were both looking out for me, I feel terrible because of all people who deserved support, Anna should have been the one.  She has been nothing--and I mean nothing--but spectacular to me, and how do I show my appreciation; my gratitude?  That's why I feel so horrible...

Hands...understand that I feel utterly evil.  Please know that I never meant to not show up, and that it was of circumstances that were beyond my control.  Please know that had circumstances been any different, I would've made it up to the airport--God knows that was my intent.  I had set the alarm clock, but for some odd reason, it didn't go off.  It's my fault entirely, however, because I knew I had a faulty alarm clock, and being the procrastination king that I am, I've neglected to replace it (I still don't have a new one).  The circumstances surrounding my absence was beyond me, but I still could have prevented it, and for that I'm sorry.  For letting you down, I'm sorry.  For neglecting you and Joan and others the week before you left, I'm sorry.  I never meant to hurt either of you...

Now I'm stuck with nothing left to do.  I'm definitely going to call her and try to win her forgiveness; if I don't, I'll completely understand.  What eases the pain, however, is knowing that she isn't gone forever.  I know that in December of this year she'll return, and it'll be then that I make it up to her...I've got to make it up to her. 

Hands, you have no idea how horrible I feel.  If and when you do read this, please know that I am heartfully sorry, and that I never wanted to hurt you.  And I know I hurt you....I know this.  With all this aside, I wish you and your family the best, and I will keep all of you--especially your step-father--in my prayers.  I'll continue to check your blogs, so if you do find access to the internet, please update.  Again, my sincerest apologies... 

***This dialogue is a work in progress.  Let me know what you think of it--I just might make a story out of it!***

Matthew:  Hey...got a second? 

Ms. Noname:  Who's asking?

Matthew:  Hi.  The name's Matthew.  Forgive me if I seem a bit too forward, but I saw you from across the room and I absolutely had to come and say hello.