Jillian Fortin

Last week, my friend at work – Davis – was forced upon penalty of death (or rather, penalty of an eternal cold shoulder) to issue a formal statement to me. In this statement, he apologized for calling me a Florida Gator.

That’s how I roll. Formal, written statements for denying me my burnt orange heritage.

I had spoken to my company’s controller about my personal development, and she and I both agreed that Jillian needed some, well, Jillian-time. And so that’s what I filed for when I submitted my PTO request to HR. Some Jillian-time. It wasn’t a lie, oh no – and I’m sure that everyone at my company could attest to this – it was the furthest thing from a secret. Jillian Fortin needed some time to relax, refocus and rejuvenate.

So, she – err, I – headed on down to my second home.

Hello, Austin.

I hadn’t been in Austin for the longest time – I couldn’t even remember the last time I was there. The moment I drove through, though, something familiar yet almost foreign (ooo, look at you and the dramatic oxymorons, Jillian) was reignited inside of me; unearthed and resurrected. Visiting old friends and familiar places threw kindling upon this fire. I walked up and down the Six Pack and reminisced about my English classes and creative writing seminars. I perused through the merchandise at the Co-op, hoping to discover some discount digs or awesome buys (and, since it was the Co-op, I didn’t find any). I strolled down San Antonio with Jojo, telling her stories about my time there.

Photo Credit: Sara Keihany

And I had some quality time with my BFF Sara as we watched the TX/Colorado game, and then even more with the old crew at Duval Condominiums, which was basically my stomping ground during my last year at UT.

UT Tower After Beating Colorado!

Though my time in Austin was short, it allowed me to really get things in perspective. Humans have a bad habit of sticking close for inordinate amounts of time, hoping the solution will reveal itself. Nine times out of ten, the solution lies in separating yourself from the situation – stepping outside the bubble – and seeing the whole picture for what it is. Such a simple lesson, maybe… but it’s something a lot of adults tend to forget.

One weekend in Austin allowed me to determine where I currently am in the grand scheme of things, and where I want to be. Kinda like the map at the mall. Picture the large, foil dot with “You Are Here” printed on it, and then tracing your finger along the path to Aldo, Neiman, Victoria’s Secret, or whatever destination you want to get to.

I had to ask myself: Why did I wait so long to return to Austin? Why did I wait before I felt this way again? How could I live with the fact that I allowed myself to be dead for so long? Austin was a blessing, because it thoroughly resuscitated the shell I had been hiding in. I realized that I’ve been inactive – not because of laziness or procrastination – but because of fear. How silly! Fear of taking a plunge… fear of putting myself at risk… fear of what happens when you open the door into a land unknown.

I really love this picture of the Renaissance Market on the Drag, taken during my mini-vaca:

Renaissance Market on the Drag (credits: Sara Keihany)

This market is the central hub for many local artists and tradesmen. It was one of my favorite places to visit after class or on the weekends. I used to see so many beautiful things and converse with so many interesting people that I was literally enamored and enraptured with the atmosphere.

While I’m taken by the vibrance of the murals’ colors and the jovial nature of the jewelry makers in their kiosks, it’s hard to ignore the taped off, broken pavements and construction cones aligning the work areas. Such a blemish in contrast to the brilliant colors and lovely people.

But I know it’s only temporary. Because like me, the Renaissance Market is a work-in-progress.

So many people depend on it, just like many depend on me. I’d be stupid to give up, or throw in the towel, or say sayonara just because I’ve got a couple cracks in me. With the help of people who love me and need me, I can become a better person. With their help, the beauty people see in me now will only grow, thrive and flourish in the times to come.

And (you have to agree) that is a great feeling.

He has a habit for going way too fast, and Jillian Fortin wasn’t born to be rushed.

I have a draft saved in my Dashboard about the 23 Things I want to do in my 23rd year. I realized just before I started typing this post that my 23rd year started more than three months ago. THREE MONTHS. A quarter of my 23rd year has vanished in the blink of an eye, more wasted than a Longhorn on his 21st birthday (wait, did I just say that?).

So here it goes, without fanfare or fancy, Jillian’s 23 Things for her 23rd Year (the better late than never remix):

1. Visit the Motherland
2. Jazz Day with Sara Keihany(@supersara) – and we’re talking total immersion here
3. Sky Diving with Lori Logue (@llogue)
4. Rock Climbing with Jon Caballero (@CabbyJames)
5. A “Surprise” Challenge from Kelsey Ruger (@TheMoleskin)
6. Visit a Mosque with Asif Razvi (@_asif)
7. Visit a Buddhist Temple
8. Take a hip hop dance class (really nervous about this one) with Melissa Velez (@MoVelez) – updated 9/2/09 YAY!
9. Take a ballroom dance class (not nervous about this at all hehe)
10. Lay a track in a studio
11. See my little sister graduate
12. Fall in love with Austin all over again
13. Go through the Tagalog Rosetta Stone course
14. “No Technology Weekend” – spend the ENTIRE weekend without ANY sort of technology (except for maybe a digital camera)
15. Have a go at stand up comedy – I’m always being told I’m perfect for it… so let’s see
16. Lose 20 more pounds – I’ve lost 30 since I moved back to Houston and want to round off (no pun intended) at fitty!!
17. Finish reading the Bible through and through
18. Direct a successful Christmas Pageant for 2009
19. Raise $5,000 for my church youth group by my next birthday
20. “Learn to be lonely”
21. Revamp my site and my blog
22. Visit all the places I’ve been meaning to visit since 2007
23. ….and this last one is just for me.

Now, granted, there are tons of other things I’d like to achieve, but a lot of them are “getting your life together” items, whereas these topics are more for self enhancement. I’m looking for people to do these things with because I hope that others will find satisfaction in my 23 things, too.

I recently read a blog post by an old co-worker of mine who said he had been told, repeatedly, that he lacked a sense of urgency. While he used that tidbit in a comical nature (I had to admit it provided for a great anecdote), it got me to thinking whether or not I lack(ed) a sense of urgency, too. I thought about all the open ended projects I have in my life, how they cause me so much stress because I rarely get any closure (very much like many of my previous relationships… wait, did I just say that too?), and how good it feels when I finally get one of them painstakingly across the finish line. Kinda like those old cartoons where the car’s pretty much demolished and it has no tires and it’s missing a door and the driver has soot in his nose and smoke coming out through his ears.

But he has a grin on his face. Cuz he’s a winner!

Baby loves the smell of victory in the morning.

So I am urgently pleading with myself, and really with anyone who will listen. “JILLIAN, SNAP OUT OF IT! Don’t you know that every day is a gift?! And that is why they call it the present?! You SHOULD already know that- it’s an overused, cliched phrase that teenyboppers graffiti all over your Facebook wall! You’re 23 years old and have more promise than you think. SNAP OUT OF IT AND MAKE THINGS HAPPEN.”

And albeit three months late, albeit in 90 days tardy… I feel I’m giving myself the best birthday present a girl my age can give herself. I’m giving 23 year old Jillian the gift of experiences… memories I can take with me into my 24th, 25th, 30th years (that is, if I’m not senile and decrepid by the age of thirty…). You’re invited to the show and I wholeheartedly welcome you to take the ride with me… but be forewarned- I’m a crazy driver

…and hence, my own kitchen floor to tile, I bring you- TILES on my BLOG! And what better tiles than TWITTER tiles?! I mean, REAL TALK! If I were, in fact, to get my own place soon (because if you asked me a year later, I’d probably say I’d want NewSocialNetworkName tiles, because “Twitter is soooo Spring Collection ‘09“) I’d probably insist on installing Twitter mosaic tiles somewhere in my kitchen. Probably not on the floor, because some people swear I walk all over them enough (bad joke totally intentional), but maybe somewhere on the countertop, or even the backsplash. Or maybe in the bathroom!…… because I think my friends are the shi….poo.

Awesome find by @kirtsy (www.kirtsy.com), and props to Sxoop for another techie toy to brighten up Jillian’s day.

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Tile your own bathroom floor- err, kitchen- err, whatever HERE!

AND…. if you don’t see yo’ face above, there’s only one way to remedy that situation. Find the hickie (that’s not a hickie), STAT! Trust me, you have to do it… I’m a doctor. Err, pause not. But I’m a nurse. …okay another fail. But I AM Filipino, and that’s got to count for something.

AND!!!… how’s this for schnazzy. I can put YOUR MUGS… on MY MUG:

Your mugs on Notahickie's mug!

I mean, gah- CLEVER?! YES! I’m so excited, I’m yelling. Totally putting this on le birthday list… (hint hint- what’s this Friday?! )

An IM I had with a co-worker friend-from-work. Awesome way to end the afternoon!

davisbaker521: you walk too seriously
Jillian: what do you mean?
davisbaker521: maybe its your shoes…
always sounds like youre on a mission
Jillian: hahha because i always am!
davisbaker521: well played…

Awesome

……………….cause she walk like a boss
talk like a boss
manicured nails to set the pedicure off
shes fly effortlessly

and she move like a boss
do what a boss do
she got me thinkin about getting involved
that’s the kinda girl i need oh……………….

(  NE-YO // Miss Independent)

I’m headed to the mothership, err, -land next May for two weeks and I have yet to get excited. Sure, I’ll be seeing family members I haven’t seen since I was seven years old. And it’s great that I’ll get a chance to soak up the sun at a resort in Boracay (rumor has it that Brangelina is vacationing there this season… maybe they’ll adopt me). But honestly, I don’t think I’m allowing myself to get excited about this Philippines trip for one main reason… and that’s hearing this phrase over and over and over again:

“Ayy nakoooo, you’re so FAT NA!“

"HAHA! Kinikita mo yung TABATCHOY? BAHAHA!"

And I’ll have all you readers know, this comes in many variations, my second favorite being “Bakit tumaba ka?” (why are you fat?). Why? WHY? WHY? Which of the fat glittering fairies from freaking Sleeping Beauty gave you the magical gift of saying whatever the eff you want? It’s not cool kids – no matter what country you’re from. I understand language and cultural barriers, but tact is universal. Discover it. Embrace it. Make it yours.

Whenever I vent to people who were actually born there, they roll their eyes and chuckle these amused little chuckles (as if to say, what a dear- she’s so Americana) before replying, “Hwag ka mg ganyan (don’t be like that), Jeel,  it’s a compliment, really. It just means your rich enough to eat a lot.”

Fo real?!

Maybe I understand that, barely. But maybe it has nothing to do with the amount of food I eat (okay it totally has everything to do with the amount of food I eat). But I said maybe. Also- perhaps my delightfully plumpness is due to the type of food I eat, not just the quantity. OR my metabolism. OR genetics… err, perhaps that wouldn’t fly with my cousins.

In all honesty, I wonder how they would react if I replied with something like, “Oh, it’s because I don’t make enough money to be in the class of rich girls that actually throw up their food,” or “Because everything’s bigger in Texas, G-D don’t you know anything?” Or better yet, what if I were to stretch my face out super wide and break out into a series of bawls and then run away screaming “IT’S! BECAUSE! I! EAT! MY! FEELINGS!!”

I would expect their reactions to be something similar to this:

"ANONG SINABE MO?"

And honestly, I don’t mean to hate, and I totally get the whole “When in Rome” thing, but seriously. I wouldn’t repeat something I thought was harmless (that is assuming they sincerely think calling someone from America fat is harmless) to someone visiting me from abroad. I expect the same treatment from my own family.

And I’m telling my mother (sweet, kind Loida) all this the other night, and she goes- “OK, but don’t forget you need some cash to bring them as regalo.”

*de ja vu – Fo real?!

Sure, Mother, I’ll be happy to give them the regalo they expect, though expecting a gift kind of makes it lose that je ne sais quoi that makes receiving gifts exciting in the first place. However, be so kind to pass this little tidbit over to the kind little brood over in the P.I. who simply can’t wait to break down my self esteem- Jillian Ashley Fortin has busted her butt over the past year and has succeeded in making this fatty bumbum a little less fatty. Ergo, she’d appreciate it if you BACK OFF, watch your tongues and be careful not to slobber on my rear as I cordially ask you to KISS IT.

ktnxbai. Or shall I say, SIGE NA!

…and I swear they made their way to Houston.

Image Courtesy of http://kxan.com

Austin’s KXAN.com reported today that roadsigns found at Lamar and MLK warned passersby (and I swear to B that’s the real way you say it) of oncoming zombie attacks. Specifically, they urgently cautioned – “ZOMBIES IN AREA! RUN!” Now, had I been back in the ATX, I probably would have made it my personal mission and goal to pinpoint the masterminds behind such a plot…. because let’s face it, broadcasting a pending zombie invasion to the community-at-large is slightly more than effing brilliant.

But no. Instead, I was in good old Houston, suffering its temperaments and monotony… the monotony that had turned me into a zombie. Houston didn’t need a road sign because they already knew I was here (which is kind of a shame because that might have been interesting to see). Today, of all days, I considered to be the pinnacle of my zombiedom… which makes it extremely providential that such an occurrence would take place in the city I consider my second home.

With the exception of my daily workout, I’m constantly finding myself enveloped in a bubble of blah, wondering when I’ll get a chance to permeate through its menacing film. It’s like, I can SEE where I want to be. I can SEE where I want to get. But I’m stuck! And I’m scared that breaking through the blah bubbles will just make an even bigger mess.

And is this just me? Is this something every twenty-something thinks about? One of my close friends turned “Kobe” today (24) and I wonder what’s going through his head, if he looked back at his 23rd year and saw a bubble around it, too.

I was talking to a co-worker friend at work about refocusing and how I need to do it. Refocusing. Puh! As if someone like me could actually define that word. And don’t get me wrong – I’ve been known to underestimate my own brilliance (really, I swear), but now’s not one of those times. I mean, it’s like how you would never catch a fish admitting it could fly. People (and fish, now that I mentioned it) will admit to their limitations if/once they are aware of them.

It makes me wonder how the rest of civilization does it. Tai chi? Shopping sprees? Massage Envy memberships? I’ve done two out of the three and I still find myself shrugging at the question. Same co-worker friend at work and I decided that we would try our shot at refocusing with a much-needed girls night at the shooting range next Wednesday night, which I’ll definitely have to document. I’ve never been to the shooting range, and think that firearms and weapons might be just what the doctor ordered. I initially suggested paintball, but unfortunately, she bruises easily. Which means I not only need to refocus, but find more paintball buddies as my existing ones have gotten too hardcore for me.

…and, just like an encore, woe is Jillian. *throws hands up in air

To My Butt:

Sorry for kicking you today.

I know, I know. Things have been kind of strange these last couple of months, so I’m not casting blame at anyone (although you and I must agree that you have been exceptionally lazy). The holidays have come and gone, and that is no excuse for you to prance around shaking yourself like it ain’t no thang. It is a thang, and we both need to accept it.

If 2009 is going to be the Year of the Gentleman, then let’s mosey on over to L.A. Fitness and get gussied up the right way. I know today was a little tough for us – you did just fine, baby steps – but we’ll work through it, together. It had to be this way. Just like I’m trying to kick the dirty little habits, just like I’m trying to kick the minutia we had to deal with from our friends of the opposite sex (note how bitterly I’ve used the word friends; even with the new year, I’m still trying to shake my displeasure with being a feezy). I’m getting a lot of practice with this kicking business, so stay tuned after these messages. You will soon bear the brunt of all my hard practice… and learn to love every single second of it.

We did great in `08. You did great in `08. You got yourself to the pool twice, maybe three times a week, and you worked it. You went in there and made us proud. But `08 is long gone. It’s a chapter complete, a song already sung. It has flown out of the window like shattered dreams and last week’s paycheck (okay, I may be joking about that… maybe). So while `08 may have been great, `09 is our time to shine. You and me, Butt. You and me.

Love, Jillian

PS. If you get a chance to talk to my car, please send my apologies his way… especially regarding my alignment, the bird on Friday, those elementary school children and the fact that it really shouldn’t be legal that I am allowed to drive him. And I mean, in my defense, it really isn’t all my fault. Beyonce is partially to blame, real talk. But anyway… if you’ll be so kind as to pass that message along, I’d greatly appreciate it. Thanks, and muchos besos.

A refreshing, pre-Christmas treat. It is Friday after all, so please read.

Gingie (@DavisBaker) and MoRill (@MoVelez)

@MoVelez: sucks to be you

@DavisBaker: it really does. im short, have red hair, and cant get all my music on my computer

@MoVelez: dont worry, im going to make ash1683 a hoodie thong. with yarn tassles

@DavisBaker: lol. for christmas??

@MoVelez: yes. its going to be knitted from the finest on sale yarns at hobby lobby

@DavisBaker: lol yes. put glitter on it!

@MoVelez: brilliant.

@DavisBaker: and spray some cinammon scent on it

@MoVelez: ewww

@DavisBaker: with fake ponsettas

@MoVelez: that might be irritating. they are poisonous you know. no one wants a poisoned vagina.

@DavisBaker: lol. yeah that wouldnt be good.

And yes. This really happened. It’s the truth… and nothing but the truth. So help me G- err, Santa.

PR: wait… I: wait… L: wait… LD: wait… I: wait… wait… C: wait… SD: wait…

I… I… I absolutely have no explanation for this. It wasn’t you. It was all me. I don’t know where my head was. I… I just had some things to work out- and I know that is no excuse. I’m sorry. To shabublating proportions. It was silly of me, and I’ve moved past it. There’s no reason for this long of an absence, and you deserve better than me. But you’re still here. I’m still here. We’re two kids lost in the webosphere, wondering what crazy things I’ll say next, wondering if you’ll still love me after I say them… I hope we can still be friends.

=)

Jokes aside (wait, what- I was joking?), this has certainly been a busy month. I have been knee-deep in busy. Trying to get my violin students ready for a recital of some sort towards the end of the year (we had aimed for Thanksgiving, but will have to push it back… that’s what you get when you don’t practice kids- broken promises)… finishing up the script for a Christmas pageant I should have delivered back in August… helping out with a holiday wedding… and the day-in, day-out hustle and bustle I get served at teh Pop Labz that always keeps me on my toes. With talks of a recession, it’s not a surprise to find emails or voicemails waiting for me every morning, saturated with whining and doused with sissy pants fear. Why some people choose not to educate themselves in order to find the right decisions before catapulting into the wrong ones is beyond me. All you can do is communicate to the best of your ability and hope it takes. `Nuff said, I’m officially off that soapbox.

Anywho, if you recall, I wrote an entry a while back about my thoughts on BakitWhy, an evolving social network for Filipino-Americans. I’m not one to promote something that doesn’t seem to serve any real purpose; that’s just not my flava. However, what these guys are doing really strikes a positive note with me, so whaddahey – why not blog about it, right?

So, a week ago, I’m contacted by Jer over at BakitWhy, asking if they can use a quote in one of their press releases. The point of the press release was to announce the launch of the new BakitWhy site on October 23, 2008 (this Thursday), which I’m really excited to see, especially as a web marketing professional. Plus… in my personal experience, writing press releases can sometimes be a pain in the tuckus. Therefore, I had absolutely no problem with being quoted. In fact, if I can be perfectly honest (which I can… this is my blog, yeah?), it was one of those moments where my heart got all warm and fuzzy and I think I may have even said “awww!” once or twice as I read Jer’s email.

Therefore… if you haven’t gotten your fill of me yet, check out the shout in BakitWhy’s press release, and don’t forget to check the site when it’s launched! Hopefully, BakitWhy will have linked back to Shabublie and sent one of these babies by then… =)

And you could solve this equation many other ways, such as Twitter + Mobile = Jason Mraz… but then, if you thought about it too hard, you’d get Twitter + (Twitter + Jason Mraz) = L.O.V.E., and that might not make sense. But now’s not the time for that!

Yesterday afternoon, I’m walking back into the office when I suddenly get the urge to check Twitter, as is the norm after my lunch hour… during my mid-afternoon break… every three minutes (thank you, Twhirl). And lo and behold, sitting at the top of my browser is a message from @iamlardass- Mz Mary- advertising two Jason Mraz tickets for $40 a piece. $40 a piece?! To see my future babydaddy, that’s pennies and dimes.

I get back to my desk to find that I DM’ed Mary right in time- half a minute after she posted it. Tons of responses had flooded in through Facebook, which is synced with her Twitter, and I’ve got to say that had it not been for social media, I would have missed out on this awesome opportunity. Thanks Mare!

Meanwhile, though I am seeing one of the loves of my life, I can’t truthfully say that I’m doing well in this department all together. I’m totally not getting this dating thing anymore, and maybe it’s because I’m starting not to give a flying fart about all the “unsaid” garbage. Don’t worry about my feelings! I’ll get over it. I’m a big girl. But if you act like you’re interested one day and figure out the next that you’re not feelin’ it, that’s fine! Props to your head for finally catching up to your… whatever (however delayed it may be; that’s the next girl’s problem, and not mine). But do me a favor- grow some kahunas and inform a girl. She deserves it… just like she deserves someone better than you.