The Meaning of Being an RA

" I want you to know that I talk about my RA 'Kristina' on every one of my tours and all the floor bonding we did. Little do they know I wasn't even there technically..."
-Hercules "USC Tour Guide/Honorary BK5 Member" Walker

What prompted me to write this post is the aforementioned quote that Hercules posted on my
Facebook wall just a few hours ago. Herc was an honorary resident of the floor for which I RA'd when I was a sophomore, and yes, when I first met him, I asked if "Hercules" really was his real name, too (it is). He's now a USC Tour Guide and speaks to probably hundreds of wannabe Trojans daily. I really, really appreciate his words.

In the end, being an RA at USC was worth every single hour spent babysitting immature freshmen; sitting in arguably pointless hours of meeting after meeting; feeling terrified that I'd be caught at a campus-party; waking up at 4am to herd hordes of my fuming peers out to the chilly street during yet another piercing fire alarm, caused by an overcooked egg or something stupid like that; missing nights out with my girls or racing back to my designated building to be on duty ("AGAIN?!"); devoting more time to cooking food for my residents than preparing for that 30%-of-my-grade final the next day; stressing out over events and outings that would mean nothing on my resume or transcript; initially feeling that I missed out on my sophomore year because all my friends lived together and I lived in a freshman dorm...all that, and more (I didn't even mention write-ups! And paperwork!).

True, being an RA was often a hassle. But the two years during which I wore that hat were worth it. Hands down, no doubt.

I always told prospective RA's that taking on the role of an RA is also signing on to a life change. No longer can you recklessly party at odd hours, whenever and wherever. You have to watch your actions and words because someone -- be it your resident, staff member, AC/AD/RC/ARC, or someone from Central Staff at ResEd --will be watching you. Make a wrong move and you could get sent to SJACS and lose your job. Little did I know that taking on the role, though I was no longer a "normal" student, allowed for my life to be changed because of the people I met and allowed me to impact the lives of people I'd encountered.

My first year as an RA was at Birnkrant Residential College, where I lived my freshman year. Loved that place, which is why I returned as a sophomore. I RA'd for freshman, some of whom were older than me in age, for a whole year, which was my most favorite year during my three years of college. I was lonely in the beginning of the year because I missed my own friends; people who had occupied the same rooms a year earlier were now filled with those who looked to me as an authority figure (me? an authority? baha.). But sooner than later, thesover and all of you were from hell or something like that. e people became my friends, and some of my best memories stem from them. Thanks to all of you. Thanks for vomiting in the girl's sink the first night you moved in and made me have a nervous breakdown. Now, it's funny. Thanks for all the cuties on my floor who offered their arms to me when I was terrified at the Knott's Scary Farm trip I had planned. Oh, speaking of which, thanks for being dubbed "the naked floor." I enjoyed the abs. Thanks for Greek food at Papa Cristo's with the little guy himself; the pizza party and contraband at the end of the year; the awkward bonfire at the end of the year. Thanks for teaching me how to play the guitar, for allowing me to experience what it's like to be a Mom of teenagers, because really, I worried about you (note to self: wait to have kids)! Thanks for jumping in the shower and giving me a soaked hug on our last night, dog-piling me onto my bed, where you girls spent countless hours watching GG and ANTM, even when I wasn't there. Thanks for eating with me at EVK; for walking with me to The Row; obsessing over The Trojan Men with me; for making my room that much more cozy. All of you rock. BK5 for life.





My third and final year was spent at Troy. It was an apartment complex so I didn't get as close to my residents as I did the previous year, but still, it was a blast. Despite the what, 20+ fire alarms we had throughout the course of the year. UGH. And despite the countless times I got lost in the halls, I loved it there. I loved that my floor was mostly all guys and therefore I didn't have to do a lot of roommate counseling. Ya'll fought it out on your own. I loved cooking for you and forcing you to eat the leftovers because Lord knew I didn't need the extra pizza when there were boys-who-survived-off-cereal-and Ramen who lived a few doors down. I knew a lot of the residents there because a lot of them lived in Birnkrant, which made Troy all-the-more-homely...although honestly, breaking up your parties was really weird. I'd walk into a party like, "Alright, this music has got to st-- Cindy?! Is that YOU?! OMG! HOW ARE YOU?!" -_- Life.

What made my experiences even MORE great were the staff teams. Birnkrant was so fun. I'm so glad I got to meet the people on my staff. My "boss" Christine is now a dear friend, someone whom I call "jie," which means "older sister" in Chinese. And to the Troy staff: what can I say. We all know that I waterworked it at our end-of-the-year luncheon, but that pretty much summed up how much fun I had with ya'll. Hell, I spent my last night of college running around the empty building with you, playing hide-n-seek, chillin' in an elevator with Hitomi and waiting to be found. Tronding. Rock Band. Devos. Slip-n-slide. Bonfire. Wan Won. No-No, thanks for going to the football games with me. BBQing. Non-birthday cakes during training. Cake stands. I knew we'd all get along well from day one. "JEALOUS?!" Hell yea, I'm jealous I'm not a part of the staff this year.





It's quite obvious that I'm in reminiscence-mode right now, but it feels good to tell all of you this and encourage those who are still RAs to cherish the experience. I've graduated and miss it so much. There are a lot of things you have to give up in order to be an RA, but the rewards are endless and gratifying beyond measure.

And thanks, Herc, for sharing with me. I don't think many RAs take the position for the recognition...but the recognition means a lot.

Honeymoon with my Brother

I just finished re-reading a book called Honeymoon with my Brother by Franz Wisner. I picked up the book probably two years ago at a used-bookstore, and I'm so glad I made that $1 purchase.

I recommend that everyone read this book. It's the story of Franz, a wealthy poster-child of Republicanism, deep from the conservative throes of Newport Beach, esteemed writer and government relations exec for real estate giant, The Irvine Company. He's days away from wedding a girl whom he met during his days on Capitol Hill when he gets dumped. Sucks. Newly single, feeling like crud, and in possession of an all-paid, extra honeymoon ticket to Costa Rica, he decides to take his brother, Kurt, instead. After some brotherly bonding and the all-too-expected high they got from their short traveling stint, Franz and Kurt decide to take two years off from their cookie-cutter lives and travel the world together. They sell most of their belongings and leave their microcosm of a world behind.

And they face the real world. Months spent in Europe, South America, Africa, North America, and Southeast Asia. The book is an account of their hilarious, touching, and actualizing adventures with each other, with strangers, and within themselves as they chuck four-star hotels for hostels; rides in limos for tuk tuks and scooters; swooning with socialites to cavorting with hitchikers. The book is refreshing, funny, and damnit, you become jealous of their lifestyles.

I love this book because Franz hails from Orange County, a community that is all-too-similar to my own hometown and one that prizes characteristics akin to materialism and consumerism that are evident in many students from my alma mater. Franz was immersed in that world, but his travels and encounters with others forced him to re-evaluate. Throughout his travels, we start to see his priorities change. Being in a world that is, as he describes it, plainly poor, he emotes and realizes that money is not everything. That, while people at home in California/USA obsess and complain about the most minuscule and petty things, the majority of those around the world -- those with close to nothing, without shoes, clothes, parents -- are still able to smile bigger, open their doors more quickly, give what limited food they own, and emit more happiness than any American he'd ever encountered.

There's so much more that this book shares and does to the reader. It made me re-assess my career opporunities and think about the potential for which I can use my God-given skills for a greater good. It made me become just a little more disgusted with American consumer/capitalism culture; pitiful for the people who are so focused on making money that they don't stop to smell the roses; hopeful that I can have similar Wisner-adventures in my own life. I know that I have to make money in order to afford the opportunity to travel, and I hope that I will with that goal in mind.

From this book, I've learned that I must, MUST go to Brazil one day. Rio de Janeiro. Carnival. (But I'll go with a guy...or two or three. To be safe.) That Africa is a must-see, especially the safaris, which more clearly demonstrate the order-of-life better than any movie or book we've ever grown up watching or reading. That life is unexepected and the outline I've created for my own may change in an instant, as Franz's did, and that everything, absolutely everything, will turn out alright.

Throughout the book, Franz highlights his conversations and visits with his grandmother, LaRue. She turns 100 at the end of their trip. She lives in a retirement home and when the brothers announce their world trip to her, she and the fellow residents of the Eskaton Retirement Center follow them, read their letters, pinpoint on a map their visits, and hang their pictures in the multipurpose room. They are so excited for the brothers and all say they had wished they had done something similar, gone to that place, how it's a shame it's too late. Their response is a nice change from Wisners' parents, who anxiously question what they will do for money to fund their travles, with their jobs, what they'll do when they get back, when they're going to get married (and have kids), etc. etc. Etc. Etc. Etc. Blah.

I can relate. Most people can relate. He writes, "Our parents' generation asks when we're going back to work. Eskaton asks where we're going next." True. Story. I understand why Franz includes his conversations with LaRue and her friends. It's called perspective. Because at the end of the road, what matters are not the numbers of breaths we take, but the moments that take our breath away. I'm glad I recognize that now.

Read the book. His newest is called How the World Makes Love...and What it Taught a Jilted Groom. Going to read it as soon as I get home.

http://www.honeymoonwithmybrother.com/

Australia: A Month in Review

I just spent a month Down Undah', and let me tell you: Australia has captured my heart.

After I graduated, I packed up my college life, shoved it in storage, and embarked on a 23 day trip along the east coast of Australia with one of my best friends, Cristina. Two C/Kristina's traveling together, both from Los Angeles, lead to some very standard responses upon introduction:

"There's TWO of you?!"
"Wait, Kris..Cris..HAHA! YOU HAVE THE SAME NAMES!"

Yes, thank you.

Moving along -- the trip was a mix of a planned tour through Contiki Holidays; the backpacking/hosteling experience; and a more personalized experience when we stayed with a friend. I enjoyed every single moment and know that this trip will forever rank as one of my tops. So many laughs and memories made with friends from all around the world. Australia has a smiling spirit to it that tints all the memories with a dash more of sunshine.

Here's the long and short of my itinerary:

I) CONTIKI

It begins...
5/29/09 - departed LAX for Australia. 22 hours later, we land in Cairns, ready to head off on our 10 day Contiki tour. We had a had to take multiple flights and endure a layover, so needless to say, we were pooped by the time we arrived (late, might I add) at our hotel. We thought we would just skip the first day of our tour, but no, we just hopped right onto the coach, where we met our tour manager, John, driver, Youngy, and um, around 43 strangers from around the world. Talk about first impressions: we were exhausted, we were hot, we were sweaty, we were LATE, we looked positively horrid, and we were in deep need of a long shower and a cat nap. But what did we do? We went straight to an Aboriginal camp where we threw spears (left, btw I was having major coordination issues), boomerangs, got pulled to dance on stage (just our luck), and got to know three Singapore boys on our Contiki trip very well.

After that, I went on a skyrail trip above the Cairns rainforest, which was stunning, got to know more of my Contiki friends, and then danced the night away at the infamous Woolshed bar. Phew. Day one of our Contiki pretty much encompassed the Contiki leg of my trip en masse: whirlwind-like, lots of dancing, meeting new people, anticipation, trying new things, and continually asking yourself, "am I seriously here?!". Definitely hit the ground sprinting.

Cavorting around Cairns (left 6/1/09)

Cairns is pretty sweet. We spent 2 days there, went on lots of adventures and met loads of cool travelers, including an Australian rugby team. On Day Two, we snorkeled the Great Barrier Reef. The boat ride there was pretty hellish, but the company that led the tour really amazed me at how kind, helpful, and responsible they were in tending to our needs (read: seasickness).

What can I say about the reef itself? Well, the water was warm; the coral was...not that colorful (murky; I forgot the scientific name for this phenomenon though); the fish weren't nearly as vivid as those in "Finding Nemo"; I did see a reef shark; I did take a picture with a huge fish named Wall-E (left, and yes, he's real and not as big as he seems); I could not scuba because I couldn't equalize my ears; and I found out that wet suits are incredibly frustrating to wear. AND I found out that motion sickness pills do NOT always work...(ewww).


Day Three of our trip afforded me the opportunity to go white water rafting down the Tully River. This will mark as one of the best days in my life, hands down. I know it seems like an exaggeration to say this, but I fell asleep thinking to myself, "If I died today, I would die happy!" Life needs to be filled with more of these moments.

Cristina and I got to raft with an awesome guide from New Zealand, and our fellow rafters were none other than our favorite Singapore boys and our friend from Canada (who happens to be in the army. Yeah, talk about an intense crew right here, left). The rain was pouring and pelting in our faces as we battled our way down Class 3 and sometimes 4 - oh yes, 4 - rapids. We flipped over once (actually, our guide flipped us, but still it was frightening because it was so unexpected! Plus, we were by a ton of rocks), literally held onto each other as we backflipped off a waterfall, had water fights with the other rafts, and basically had the adventure of a lifetime. I loved it. I loved, loved, loved it. I went to bed that night exhausted, but feeling the happiest I think I've ever felt - or at least the happiest I've felt in a long time.

My fave picture because you can tell how loudly I'm screaming. Haha.



































What else did I do in Cairns? Other than dance my nights away with travelers from all over the world (i.e. UK, Scotland, Canada, France) at Woolshed to the techno/house music that DEFINITELY came to grow on me, I also ate kangaroo, emu, and croc. Delicious!




It was a Daydream (Island)
(left Daydream Island 6/5/09)

Next big stop was Daydream Island, which is part of the Whitsundays. The resort we stayed at was the only property on the island itself, so you can only imagine how secluded and unreal it was. They definitely named the resort/island right because the whole time I was there I felt like I was well, dreaming. We went sailing around the Whitsundays (left, yes, very glam bam) on one of the days, which also topped my most favorite Aussie moments, because the service on the catamaran was impeccable; the food was delicious; the VIEWS -- ohh, the views! They were spectacular; and we got to spend a good few hours at Whitehavens beach, where the sand is so fine and white that it's illegal to transport it away from the island.

Daydream Island was the first place I saw wild wallabies and cockatoos, by the way. They roamed around everywhere.














Ugh. Did I mention that I tried Vegemite for the first time here? Observe my disgust below. Never again.

Roughin' it - Rockhampton & Fraser Island (left Fraser 6/7/09)
I call this segment of the trip "roughin' it" because in Rockhampton, we went to a rodeo. How much more rough-n-tough and dusty can one get? Then on Fraser Island we took a 4WD tour around the island. The 4WD was very. necessary. The rainforest was EVERYWHERE, so therefore, trees and branches and ROOTS, ROOTS, ROOTS were everywhere. It was bumpy, to say the least. But after the forest cleared, we got to drive on the beach (1)! Cool sites, such as the Mahoni shipwreck (2), Eli Creek, & Lake Mackenzie (3).



















Other things to note: Cristina got a leech stuck on her foot during our 4WD tour, and later that night, we made t-shirts for a dancing party, which was full of screamin' rock classics (cheers to Bon Jovi, and hello, Kings of Leon) and dancin' the night away. Viva la vida.

Sweet Goodbyes in Surfer's Paradise (departed 6/9/09)
More adventures in Surfer's Paradise, the final city of Cristina and my Contiki trip. Here, we took surfing lessons (noble attempt on my behalf, but to no avail; Cristina, on the other hand, was a natural, as was Tim from Singapore). I rode on the back of a Harley Davidson with an Aussie dude named Bob -- whom I thought was "Boar" because I couldn't understand his bloody accent the first few times around, haha. Um, I pretty much convinced myself on that 30-minute ride that the feeling of awesomeness that I obtained from riding on that Harley completely overrode any sense of annoyance I had ever felt towards Harleys for the obnoxiously loud noises they emit, and therefore, I concluded that one day I would/will buy a Harley. Or a bike of some sort. The experience was THAT cool.















We then went to a Dracula show -- very risque, very pg13 -- as a group for our last night out. I fell asleep, they gave me free coffee (woop woop!). We then went dancing, woke up the next day, and went to the Currumbin sanctuary where alas, we got to see, hold, get pictures with/pooped on/scratched by the beloved Aussie koala (Seriously, that thing is heavy and smells. And its claws are razor sharp. Don't be duped by how cute it is!) & other animals that happen to be Aussie cuisine, such as the kangaroo and emu that Cristina and I had just devoured merely days prior (Strange, if you ask me. As Americans we don't keep pigs or cows in our zoos...).

The parting was sad because we had made such good friends with the people on the trip. My posts really did not do justice to the emotional connections we had made during our Contiki; really, we made some wonderful friends who will be our pals for life. And they're from all around the world! But in a nutshell, let's just say that Cristina, albeit the fact that she can be a basket case over any emotional situation, cried her eyes out when we had to leave the group. We got THAT close. Shouts to my Contiki peeps!
























This isn't the whole group whatsover, but to give you an idea, the nationalities of the people from from left to right are Canadian, Singaporian, German, American, Canadian, Singaporian, American. There were people from the UK, Scotland, and France on the trip, too! Contiki, you rock my socks. Had a blast.

And then we went to Sydney...

Ruled Out - Our Documentary

I shot, wrote, created this documentary called "Ruled Out" along with five other talented USC classmates. We interviewed boys at risk at Crenshaw High School -- one of the schools in the "roughest" areas in Los Angeles, and ironically, a 15 minute drive from USC -- for a semester, and made a documentary that was relevant to their lives. Hopefully it made some bit of a dent.



http://youtu.be/6Ck9aHROlL4