Dear Vanessa,

17Jun08

It’s 3:34am as I start this letter. So please forgive me for my words.  I want to apologize now, at the beginning of my letter.  You see I’ve hit that wall, that state of delusion when you’ve been up too late working on one thing for over five hours, constantly trying to get that one thing right.

Yes, I’ve been working on FPAC stuff.

Vanessa Vela Lovelace, you are my hero.  You inspire me because I have no idea how you were able to do this work, day in and day out, for forever.  I don’t want to put an actual tangible timeframe on it because I really don’t know and I feel like if I try to quantify some time it will be inadequate and not do you justice.

I remember we once had a conversation about being quote,unquote “professional filipinos” and yes i know the fact that i wrote out quote, unquote and then used quotes was ridonkulous, i still wanted to write it.  It sounds nice.  It flows beautifully in my head.  Especially this late in the day.

As I was saying, before I went on my tangent about quote,unquote, this whole idea of being “professional filipinos” always freaked me out.  I related to you because I felt like you and I were both on that same page.  We didn’t want the title.  We didn’t want to have that pressure.  We didn’t want to deal with the bullshit associated with it all. But as I sit here, at my desk, in my office, in my apartment, I feel a sense of amazing accomplishment.

I feel proud of the fact that I took the leap of faith and stepped into the shoes of a “professional filipino” (shh don’t tell anyone i admitted that okay!).  It’s really hard to admit that, but it’s true.  2 years ago I made the decision to leave my then secure job with benefits and a 401k to pursue my dreams.  2 years of grad school came and went and now the economy sucks and I can’t get a job at a university.  But my 2nd love, my career mistress, came to my rescue.  Maybe not even came to my rescue, but was there all along.

This whole festival director business is a lot of pressure.  It’s hard to live up to the folks who have been here before.  I’m trying my damndest to heed your advice.  Apply what I’ve learned throughout the years.  Applied what you’ve learned through the years.  Applied what everyones suggestions were through the eons and eons of festivals.

Knowing that you are around to hear me bitch, to give me advice, to be real with me.  It’s a comfort.  Because who else can say they’ve got a goddess of a woman as their ally?  People may front and say they know someone like that, but I am lucky to know the real deal.

Yes, you are a goddess.  Your heart and soul are somewhere, weaved in the malong of the filipino american community.  bleh that sounded kitschy.  Let me try that again.  Your heart and soul are somwhere, imprinted onto the streets of LA.  okay…that was less hokey.  At least that’s what I think.  *shoulder shrug*

Who else, but a goddess, could continue to do the work you do?   Could have the amazing babies who’s smiles light up the rooms they stomp their not so little baby feet through?  Could have the presence of a lion, but the grace of a swan?  And dude, I know you may think that grace line was cockamammy, but to me it’s true.  Folks who think you don’t have grace, are morons, who are not privey to your eloquence with words, time, space, and everything in between.

As I rub the tiredness out of my eyes and try to express why you are amazing, I find myself lost.  I can’t fully explain this.  I hope you know that I appreciate you.  I hope you know that you are appreciated.  I don’t know how to say some things in person.  The emotions behind words are too much for me so instead I stand quietly on the side or talk incessantly about random shit.  Coping mechanisms that many folks use.

But yeah, you are dope.  I’ll try to relay this to you tomorrow at tuesday night, while we share a cigarette and perhaps eat one of my baby cakes.  You have to try these baby cakes.  They are technically vegan since I don’t use eggs or milk or oil to make them.  The secret is diet soda.  I know it sounds odd and gross, but it makes delicious and inexpensive and healthier cake products.  I say baby cake because I don’t like the association with the word cupcake.  It’s neither baked in a cup, nor is it a grown ass person size cake.  So I’ve coined the name baby cake.  And they are surprisingly moist, unlike some other mini cakes that we’ve had in the past.

Okay, I’m rambling more than writing.  I will sign off at 3:54am pacific standard time.

So to recap this letter, for the spoiler and such.

You are dope.

You are a goddess.

You are my hero.

Ms. Vanessa Vela Lovelace.

You are so freakin awesome my 869 word count doesn’t do you justice.

Truly,

Lainey



2 Responses to “Dear Vanessa,”  

  1. 1 alfienumeric

    did she read this???? she needs to.

  2. ms lainey,

    ….. thank you ……

    [insert hugest hug ever here]

    vanessa


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