My insurance agent suggested I write a report about the car. Reminiscing about it turned my text into a rhetorical piece.  I present to you an open letter to the thief who stole my car:

Dear person,

As I sit here wondering what I ever did to deserve the violation of privacy you just pulled, I also take a moment to realize just how blessed I actually am despite this situation being one of many curveballs I’ve been facing lately. As crappy as it is to unfairly lose my car to someone who clearly lacks consideration and respect to a woman who could probably definitely kick your ass, at the end of the day it’s just a car.

At the end of the day, I have a family. These people love me so much that they have always encouraged me to be a better person, all the time. They are examples of real people who grow older and wiser and teach me to set a standard for myself so that my children can look up to me and not down on me… it’s become a habit to not jeopardize my conscience for a selfish, money-driven thrill, like stealing.

At the end of the day, I have the support of a husband who, no matter what, will drive me anywhere I need/want to go. Sometimes it’s because he wants to. Other times, it’s because he knows he has to ;) But knowing that I can rely on someone who would do anything for me makes me feel like a million bucks. Instead of feeling stranded, I feel secure. Real, true love makes you feel that way, no matter how low your bank account is.  I don’t think you know what that kind of love feels like and I’m sorry you don’t.

At the end of the day, I have a REAL job that helps me pay for my commute to work. It pays me to stay healthy and safe. It also provides financial security for me and family. I earned my income. I didn’t take it away from someone else.

What do you have?

I doubt you have the love of a family who can stand behind you and encourage you to do better for yourself. Even if you did, it was your choice to turn away.
I doubt you have a partner you can trust and make you feel like a real man (or woman).
I doubt you have a job. Stealing Cars, Inc. ain’t exactly handing out W-2’s to its employees.

The economy is tough, but Americans are tougher. Do something with your life so that your ancestors wouldn’t look down on you and say “wtf is this guy doing? There’s an STi RIGHT NEXT TO IT! Steal THAT one!”

That Honda has been with me for over 15 years. It took my sister to daycare and both of us to soccer games. I learned how to parallel park in it during practice drives with my dad. I would drive to high school just across town and college across the state. It saw me graduate twice. It saw me through the rollercoaster of a courtship and eventual proposal from Ryan. Now, the car that saw me through my best and worst times is gone.

I want to pray for you, forgive you and thank you.

I pray that you find it in your heart to follow Jesus. No, not your chop shop mechanic, I’m talking about our Lord and Savior.

I forgive you for violating me, my husband and our neighbors.

Last but not least, I want to thank you. You made me realize that I’ve come a long way in life and have quite bit to show for it, looking back on the last 15 years. You, however, don’t. I hope that one day you do.

x’s o’s & a slap upside the head,

Melissa Will

So, I’ve been meaning to blog about my most recent cooking adventure—failure or not—but ever since Ryan came home from Texarkana, it’s been a whirlwind! Without further ado, I present to you “A Tragedy” by Melissa Will:

I was scrounging up breakfast one day for my in-laws who stayed the night one evening while Ryan was away. I love breakfast. It’s the best meal of the day and it’s so enjoyable to cook first thing in the morning, only to fill the house up with swirling scents of pancakes, hashbrowns and the all-time favorite: bacon!

But those yummy essentials weren’t exactly my idea of a real breakfast for the longest time. I grew up eating over easy eggs on top of rice, with longanisa, bangus, and lots of other meats I can’t spell. The delightful blend of hearty eggs mixed with the sour/salty seasoned meats is my idea of a REAL Filipino breakfast.

A happy medium and safe first step to get Ryan accustomed to this kind of breakfast comes in the form of an enchanting bread we call pandesal. It’s originates from Spain and when the Spaniards made their claim on the Philippines, the natives adopted the bread as their own. If there’s anything Filipinos rock at, it’s baking. Part of a normal breakfast for my family is offsetting the meal with warm pandesal and butter. I figured Ryan might really enjoy it, so why not try to make it from scratch? How hard can it be.

REAL HARD. Literally and figuratively.

Baking bread, in general, takes a lot time and patience. If time and patience were a form of currency, I’d declare bankrupcy.

After consulting my mom, a girl who grew up working at the family bakery, she stopped me and said “no, just don’t even try!” Alluding to her own mishaps in the pandesal world. My dad echoed this sentiment by joking “her bread was as hard as your head!” Hardy-har, pops.

I was prepared to take and share photos of my cute domestic self doing my thing. But those self-taken photos (Ryan was gone) turned into a collection of proof that I am, in fact, a hopeless goof who needs to back away from the kitchen.

Xoxo’s

(This post is dedicated to my mom, dad and late grandmothers for not only telling me, but showing me why I should be thankful. Always. Happy Thanksgiving!)

I’m sitting here during my layover in Taipei after a week in the Philippines, reflecting on what I saw, experienced, ate :), and felt on this trip. Burying our beloved Grandma invoked a lot of emotions, especially that of gratitude. It’s times like these when you’re thankful for where you came from and who helped raised you to be the person you are today.

As a second generation Filipina, I often find myself in a cultural bubble that is rarely popped. I needed this trip. It was my third time crossing the Pacific and the impact it has had on me is greater than ever.

Back Track to Navarro Parenting 101

My parents are kind of an anomaly when it came to raising my sister Mandy and I in America.  With a large population of Filipinos in our hometown, there were a lot of Fil-Am community groups and get-togethers in the area. All of my Filipino friends’ parents were actively involved and had parties with other Filipino families all the time.  But Mom and Dad chose not to be part of that exclusive community.

Not to let the apples fall too far from the tree, Mandy and I were discouraged from having only Filipino friends. They may have brown skin like me, understand what Tagalog sounds like and occasionally call their lunch “baon“… but they couldn’t be my only friends. All of us had to reach out, and the rest had to reach out to us.

I once came home with a Miss Fil-Am pageant registration form after receiving word that I could win a scholarship by competing. My mom advised me to scrap the idea, claiming that it was only based on how well-known you and your family are in the Filipino community. Whether that was true or not, I think she was doing me a favor. Could you imagine me doing the tinikling dance as a talent? Yikes.

For a very long time, I felt a separation from the people I thought I could relate to most. A lot of the Filipino kids I knew growing up were second generation just like me and eventually underwent the same identity questioning I did. It’s ok to be proud of where you’re from, but at what point does that hinder you from being American? At what point does it help you? What does it even mean to be American anyway?

To my parents’ credit, they taught us open-mindedness. We are Filipina, but we were also Americans. My parents worked inifinitely harder than I think I ever could to make sure their future was in a better place.  After visiting the Philippines this past week, it’s clear why they worked so hard and why they want us to embrace what we have.

Keeping an Open Mind While Rooted

Instead of limiting ourselves to staying within cultural confines of what seems natural, Mandy and I were challenged to meet different people and get to know other heritages, faiths, and walks of life. That’s not to say my second-gen Filipino friends didn’t have much to offer. In fact, they had the most to offer in the long run and I look forward to learning more.

While I sometimes wish my parents taught us Tagalog and instilled more Filipino pride in us, I have to give it up to them for teaching us what it REALLY means to be Filipino—love for family and love for God.

There are certain values and morals that most people would label as “Asian”, implying strict standards and a firm loyalty to blood. I fought that and blatantly rebelled out of disagreement with my parents on some issues, but I have grown a deeper appreciation for the gratitude Filipinos have for their elders and their culture.

With the ailing and passing of my grandparents in the last couple years, I’m starting to see firsthand what the work of your elders can cultivate… I grew up in a land of opportunity, went to a good school, got a great job, married a wonderful man, and having been living well my entire life. None of this would happen without the steadfast dedication past generations had for their faith and family. At my late grandmother’s recent burial, the priest who presented the mass said “blood is thicker than Manny.” Fitting since the mass was happening during the controversial Pacquiao fight! But seriously, it’s tremendous to still stick together after God tests our strength each and every day.

Just because I didn’t eat pancit at every family get together, doesn’t mean I don’t crave it from time to time. Just because my family and I hate karaoke, doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the truly talented artists who have come from the Philippines. Just because I don’t have a Filipino flag on my rear-view mirror doesn’t mean I’m not proud to be Filipina.

Staying True

You see, us second-gen’s are in a weird limbo of trying to stay true to where we came from and establishing an identity in our current circumstance. The goal is to create a harmony of the two worlds, but it involves a deeper understanding of each side.

The modern-day American society I grew up in and the “old-school” Filipino principles I was born under seems like oil and water. But if my marriage is any indication that two worlds can collide and work together, then we have a beautiful history in the making.

I married a Caucasian guy whose equally-fascinating family history traces five generations back here in America with ties to Europe. To be able to share the Filipino side of me with him and our children one day—has become more important to me. I hope to give him a better understanding of where I came from as I learn more about it myself. One day, I’ll be able to take him and our kids to Grandma and Grandpa’s home country (with their help of course… my Tagalog will always be a work in progress!) and give them a rare opportunity to embrace their roots.

To start this path of understanding and appreciating what it means to be Filipina, I’ve decided to blog more about it.  Sounds odd, but a large part of my trip was the food. It was something EVERYONE could enjoy. This country’s food has the power to shut up even the loudest Filipino and get a resounding “yum” from the pickiest kids.  There’s no better way to savor a culture more than to taste the food. Tracing the history of some dishes (ie did you know that lechon was originally a Spanish dish?), honoring some favorite family dishes/recipes and having Ryan taste test as I try to become a better Filipina wife/cook will be quite an adventure. 

I mean, why do you think Anthony Bourdain and Andrew Zimmern have such successful traveling shows? It’s because they try weird things while simultaneously telling a rich story of the culture behind it.

The only challenge besides trying to get my husband to eat dinuguan will be trying to cook up a feast on top of working full-time.

So loosen up those minds… and waistlines… our kitchen is about to smell crazygood!

Love,

Miss

Cuison…
Ulangkaya…
Pijuan…
Joyce…
NAVARRO

Will :)

One last note: While you and I can comfortably find a meal anywhere, there are many children in the Philippines whose families can’t provide the proper nutrition and water to help them grow and survive some of the toughest conditions. Consider helping UNICEF Philippines by going to http://www.unicef.org/philippines/ and learn more about how you can give a child a fighting chance.

My minor in college was Rhetoric & Film Studies, which is the hippie liberal arts school equivalent to communications… but way more fun.

As someone who grew up reading People and could name every primetime television show that aired on major networks since 1989, you could say that pop culture is part of my diet.  So when I got the opportunity to take a class called “Hollywood Stars” my senior year to finish up my minor, you bet I soaked up every bit of it!

We had a lesson one day that discussed characters of stars.  Essentially, you’ll personalities like the cowboy, the girl next door, the macho man, the villain, and many others.  My personal favorite: the pinup.

To define pinup would be like trying to define a common piece of every woman you’ve ever seen on the big screen… and every woman you’ve probably met.

We think of pinups as women who channel an era of yesteryear, who also play with the cheeky-ness of a sexual revolution over the horizon.  The style transcends decades, reflecting the cutting edge of what it means to be a lady. Miss Manners expects us to be prim and proper, not a curl out of place… but there’s something about the pinup culture that encourages women to draw outside the lines. You know, be real.

Do you know of any woman who has ever stayed inside the lines? Besides nuns? We’re not perfect, but that is precisely what is so attractive about the woman, the pinup. In an imperfect way, the pinup can very well be the ideal woman in some eyes.

The pinup has been a mom, a wife, a single girl, a working woman, even a source of encouragement during tough times! If you ask me, the pinups won WWII. Enter the likes of Betty Grable.  You’d fight like hell too if you could imagine coming home to a girl like her.

Lines don’t have curves and that’s why pinups don’t adhere to any particular body standard.  Marilyn Monroe was a size 12, and still manages to reign supreme as one of the most beautiful women of all time. You’ll see me write more and more about this figure in pop culture history because I find it to be so important to see how skewed American body standards and modern-day feminism can be today.  I can’t tell you how many women I know (myself included) talk themselves down, but find a whole new light of encouragement when embracing the vintage and voluptuous style of the pinup. I’ve met pinups twice my size, age and height that have totally rocked with self-confidence and remained to stay outside any line.

It’s definitely something to admire.

(Got this idea from a co-worker today)

Dear Missy,

You look nice today. Give yourself some credit and stop trying so hard. High school isn’t real life, but it’ll be a fun ride for you.  You’ll have some friends who love you. That love has come from you being yourself and not trying to be like anyone else.

Learn from the lamb of God and follow in his footsteps.  Do things without expecting anything in return.  Wipe away selfishness and make way for selflessness.  Volunteer because you want to and not because you have to.  Jesus’ heart is in yours.

Oh, and give Mom and Dad a break.  Understand that your parents are on your side and not against you.  They see the potential and charisma that is bursting at your seams and want to make sure you use it wisely, avoid pain, and progress as a young lady.  What they will have to accept is that you’ll make dumb decisions, get hurt, but you’ll still progress and move forward.  You’ll know when you’re a mother of a shining young woman who is so naive to what the world is going to be for her.  Allow them to help you cultivate your talents—they are your biggest cheerleaders.

You’re getting ready to pick colleges. Choose very carefully. Ask yourself what you really want to do in life and if you can’t answer that question, that’s totally ok.  You and everyone you know will change your mind when you get spoonful after spoonful of the bowl of life. Understand before you commit to anything. Fortunately, you have a lot of opportunities around you, and it will be hard to make a “bad” decision. You were raised better than to do that.

And boys… don’t think I’ll forget to address that.  Never pick a boyfriend based on who others like for you.  Pick someone who won’t need anyone to root for them or talk them up.  Someone that stands tall alone is almost as admirable as you.  It’s ok to break up with a guy that doesn’t seem right for you.  You’ll cry about it, not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings, but it will be a decision best made earlier on.  Life goes on :)

Love yourself. Know your talents and embrace your passions. You have so much time to figure out who you are and college will barely scratch the surface. Get excited! And never lose yourself.

Oh, and from here on out, tell people to call you by your real name: Melissa.  Embrace the fact that you have a quintessential 80’s name. It’ll give you an excuse to have big hair.

Love,
You in eight years

Because I suck at icebreakers.

Good day, Tumblr friends!

My dear cousin who lives across the country encouraged me to start up my blog again now that I “actually have a life” now. Gotta love my family.

Honestly, not much has changed and I enjoy a bowl of ice cream while watching Teen Mom on a Friday night as much as the next wild twentysomething.

But in a nutshell, a few small changes in the last nine months (NO BABY! Hate the stigma of “nine months”) have somewhat established a different me and a different life. I suppose my future ramblings will consist of the following:

1. Being married
2. Being married to the military
3. Being married to my job
4. Being married to my new hobbies

I had an old boss joke around saying that someone finally made an honest woman out of me. To an extent, it’s kind of true. There’s nothing wrong with living selfishly especially at this age. I still indulge in personal pleasures from time to time like getting my hair done and buying myself a nice dress that I probably won’t wear until next summer (thanks Washington), but it was until I made a commitment to Ryan that I knew my relationship with him and God would really start turning a page in my book.

The pastor we met with for pre-marital counseling quizzed us on what marriage is and how it’s a different it is compared to other relationships. It’s pretty powerful, actually. You make a vow, an oath, a decision—the biggest promise of your life to another human being in front of the law of the land and God. Your relationship becomes a binding contract (sorry, I’m not a huge romantic) that you made the decision to honor. Emotion can play a big part in this decision, but a confident mind can be the biggest factor that determines the strength of the partnership. It’s truly amazing to think about.

For those of you who know me and have known of the saga of our relationship, this has been a long time coming. Ups and downs really tested us, but in the end we made a huge leap and look forward to what else life has to throw at us.

I’m also getting a dose of what it’s like having to share your husband with his job. Only, unlike some jobs, Ryan’s life literally belongs to Uncle Sam. As a service member, he’s been through the drawbacks of having to miss out on birthdays, work late, deploy and be away from his family months at a time. I’m now experiencing that firsthand as well.

However, I’m also noticing the inner dynamics of a military community. As a kid who wasn’t directly raised under a military household, I never knew the sense of closeness families have with one another when they’re going through some good times and bad times. Growing up with a sister and being in a sorority taught me how to jive with women (and men) who have different personalities, and so far I’ve enjoyed meeting other spouses who can relate to what Ryan and I go through with his job. It’s been a blessing.

As for my job, I’m still with the awesome downtown Seattle law firm and as my one year anniversary passed, I realized how much I’ve grown to like being a working woman. I thoroughly enjoy it and I’m looking forward to improving my skills so that I can branch out elsewhere doing God knows what. It pays the bills!

Lastly, I picked up a couple hobbies. One of them, get this, is pinup modeling. Never in a million years did I even think of doing any sort of modeling. When I was a really brown chubby brown third grader, I was fully content with being good at eating sleeves of Oreos. Today, I still am content with that ability, but I digress…

After my photographer friend encouraged me to try it, seeing how interested I was in Kustom Kulture, I figured a couple shots of Jack before getting photos taken probably wouldn’t be too painful. Sure enough, I enjoyed it. I even entered into a pageant, posed for clothing companies and even nabbed a spot in a pinup magazine! The third grader in me is celebrating with a glass of milk!

But the world of Kustom Kulture is my new niche. A place I never thought I’d end up joining, but I’m loving every bit of it. In a nutshell the “Kulture” envelopes vintage cars, hot rods, choppers, tattoos, and pinups into one big party of great personalities. What I love about the pinup modeling aspect of it is that you’ll find women of all ages, sizes, and backgrounds working their magic in photos, runways or hugging beautiful cars.

A good friend I used to work with at MSNBC even told me to write about my experiences in this new world, and possibly develop a book. Consider this a launching pad for the wide-eyed rookie who didn’t think for a minute that this would be a hobby.

Oh, and my other hobby is drinking coffee. HEY-OH! Goooood morning.

Anyway, I’m looking forward to sharing more. I’ve noticed that past blogging attempts have attracted some readers that end up asking for advice. To me, that’s the biggest pleasure from writing so publicly. I’ve made lots of friends through shared experiences and advice so I’m looking forward to doing that more as I continue on. In the meantime, have a lovely Thursday!

(Source: missywill)