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 |  Nothing like a fortune cookie to make a year intriguing. |
  Many thanks to kiyasama for the lovely image gracing this blog! A huge thank you to GabriellaR45  for the shiny yellow awardicon to bring the new year!It was a simple crack of an ancient fortune cookie that sparked the courage to keep writing on the eve of the new year. This is a test to see what a tiny slip of white paper can do for someone who was ready to hand in the towel, allowing every self-doubt and negative thought to take control. May this mark a beginning; a fresh start for the potential of something messy, dented around the edges, and absolutely all mine. Here's to blogging in 2011 (and 2012).   |
"Wonder is the beginning of wisdom."~Greek Proverb Currently listening to: "The Moment I Said It" - Imogen Heap Currently reading: "The Gift of Tongues: Twenty-Five Years of Poetry from Copper Canyon Press" - Sam Hamill I find that it's the small things in life that give the greatest pleasure. A cup of coffee made just right. The breath of a breeze on your face when the sun is at its highest. A smile from a stranger just to share a moment with each other. Today has been a day of good, small things. There has been great instances of trial throughout the week. What is life without them. However, I think taking a minute to appreciate the little stuff is what saves many of us from going insane. For instance, I found out today my little brother Z is student of the month at his school. I wish I could have been there, but having a horde of step-brothers and sisters with cameras on their phones makes missing events these a little less painful. My grandfather was taken off his ventilator and will most likely be taken out of the ICU tomorrow if things go well. My eldest brother and his family got the keys to their first house today and hope to be in the house the next couple of days. Life goes forward. The signs of that life - an award, first keys, taking a deep breath on your own - are how we remember where we are and why we're here. I can honestly say I get caught up in the crisis of the moment. Sometimes, especially when there are multiple emergencies going on at one time, those are the only things I see. That's how we miss the small things that make everything special. The way a song on the radio plays just right on a radio. You know, the song is perfect mood and pitch for what you're feeling. It touches you, makes it special. One little moment, just you and that song and the certain emotion. You can't get there and listen when you mind so far in a situation where your heart is on the line that you can't just stop of a moment and breathe. I write this all to try and remind myself that I have to slow down, enjoy these moments. So many little things get missed but they matter so much. For me, its my family and my boyfriend I miss out on most and they are someone of the deepest parts of me. Over the next little bit of time I hope to explore those parts more. With this coming move, it's like taking mental snapshots of them all to keep with me on dark and stormy days. Out of curiosity, what are your favorite "small things"? |
"Rusted brandy in a diamond glass Everything is made from dreams Time is made from honey slow and sweet Only the fools know what it means..." ~Tom Waits, "Temptation" Currently listening to: "Temptation" - Diana Krall Currently reading: "Scar Night" - Alan Campbell There are many ways to make a project seem endless. I'm trying to finish (more like start) my last project for Archaeology this weekend. However, the nice confluence of Aristotelian events occurred that have me pushing this thing up the hill at the last possible moment. Procrastination and me are best friends, don't get me wrong. It's just that I didn't want to be in the position I am currently in right now. Next week, absolutely. A couple of months from now, sure. At this very moment, no. I'm just too damn tired to think to really do this. The tiredness is kind of my fault. Starting on Saturday, after an afternoon compiling my research, I had a nice night out with friends for a quick movie ("Jane Eyre" - just lovely) followed by a restless, night with barely any sleep. Easter was peachy. I felt like was hit by a pick-up truck and had to make nice with people who take religion to an extreme. Luckily, it was really laid back, one of the first I can remember since my eldest brother had gotten married. Came back and crashed briefly before purposely taking medication to help me sleep. Usually, the over-the-counter stuff isn't bad. I think I wanted it too much to work. It took forever and I spent much of the night up with my mom while she went through some pain issues. I finally passed out, woke up eleven hours later, too much of the day gone and feeling like snow was swimming in my veins. After years of playing chicken with my sleep, one would figure I would be better at this game. I'm not playing chicken with the ever-engaging dilemma that is my sleep cycle. I'm going to power through the evening, head to class tomorrow, doze, then power through again to class, muscle through the three hours of presentations and potluck food, donate blood, then pass out. There's a paper due on Friday for my Developmental Psych class but that'll have to wait until Thursday 'cause only so many brain cells can be dedicated to one thing. If only the vitamins would kick in... |
"The truth is rarely pure and never simple." ~Oscar Wilde Currently listening to: "A Blossom Fell" - Diana Krall Currently reading: "In His Majesty's Service" - Naomi Novik Don't you hate it when our day is going well, then you come across something that completely throws it for a loop? You become enraged or incensed and what to beat someone over the head with a heavy object. That was my day today. I get back from my long day after classes and check my email. My father, crap-disturber that he is, sent me an email in the hope it would pique my interest. (... should have been my first clue this was not going to go well) As a student of psychology, this article pissed me off so much that I wanted to throw my laptop through a window. This past week, J.Crew released their magazine with a spread of the founder and her son spending a weekend afternoon together. The kicker that spurred a well-known psychiatrist to hastily write an article about the cultural peril that J. Crew is putting their readers in is the fact she was painting her son's toenails pink... Are you kidding?! This woman, who obviously cares deeply for her son, was spending time with him. The psychiatrist, Dr. Keith Ablow, however, felt this was a large step into sending this child into several years of therapy later on. Was it the toenail polish or the color that bothered him? The fact that he and his mother were happy must have completely sent him escaped her notice. Gender identity is a difficult subject in the United States because of perceived expectations on gender roles. Ablow believes people should be shown how to be comfortable in their own sex given to them at birth instead of trying to be something else. He states boys should be boys, girls should be girls. But what the hell does that even mean? He goes on to say, gender equality while a good thing, is partially breaking down "feminine" behavior. This, he believes, will lead to mankind not wanting to have children and risk human survival. Really? REALLY? My opinion on the whole thing - he's an asshat with a medical degree. This type of bullshit is what's going to my job and those of my classmates harder. I can't even imagine being a patient, unsure of how to deal with emotions where you feel you a man in female form or a woman in a male body. What happened to compassion? Where can one find these rules that he feels are breaking down? The existence of human life is failing because of pink nail polish? Because I like baseball, hockey, prefer pants over dresses, and curse like a longshoreman, does that mean I'm a part of growing female population that will be ill-equip to nurture a child? Can I gag now? Here's the article. Read it for yourself and make your own conclusions. I'm off now to go bang my head against a wall from reading such madness. |
"As I walk this land of broken dreams, I have visions of many things. Love's happiness is just an illusion, Filled with sadness and confusion." ~Jimmy Ruffin, "What Becomes of the Brokenhearted" Currently listening to: "Knock on Wood" - Kenny Floyd Currently reading: "Margaret of the Imperfections" - Lynda Sexson When I mention that I'm going to kickin' something old school, I mean my old school of twenty-two years. Yes, this isn't much but one would be surprised how cool my old school is. Today, however, old school means back when I was steaming through junior high with pneumonia. There's a long story here which culminates with me not being able to miss a day of school or repeating the eighth grade with a 3.9 GPA. It made all kinds of sense to my principal at the time who was blackmailing me. Anywhoozle... To get through the day I would: *Sugar it up early in the morning with a fully-loaded, fully-sugared coke *Let Starbursts dissolve under my tongue during third and fourth period. *Another coke at lunch with a Mountain Dew back. *More Starbursts to the end of school. *A No-Doz in my drinking water during basketball season. Running laps shook off the jitters. This would lead me to crash about the time I got home around four in the afternoon. I'd sleep through dinner, wake at around 9, eat the leftovers and take my meds for lung rot, pass out again until 3, then start the whole freakin' process all over again. (Homework was finished during dinner and after three). I did this entire process for five months before being admitted into the hospital after graduation. (For the pneumonia, not the sugar). I haven't done that in about a decade, but today seems to be one of those days. The springtime crud has come to visit but I can't stop right now. I stopped last week because my mom had the crud and before that was several other family members. This week, however, will not allow such niceties. My grandfather's new feeding tube and his struggles? Nope. Early-dementia grandmother not sure what to do? Nah. Late night calls from my father? Nyet. Midterms? Ha! It is full-sugar ahead my friends. There's just too damn much to do. I'd stick around now but I have to go get my third cup of coffee today. See ya on the flip side. |
"Rhythm is half silence."~Suheir Hammad Currently listening to: "After The Storm" - Mumford & Sons Currently reading: "The Gift of Tongues: Twenty-Five Years of Poetry from Copper Canyon Press" - Sam Hamill Midterms - how the make the soul scream in terror. Interestingly enough, I've gotten professors this semester who either don't believe in midterms or replace the actual midterm with an extra project that sends the mind off into that land of utter abyss. So, technically, I only have one traditional midterm mixed in with other midterm-like assignments. Phrase that it way it doesn't sound too bad, except it is that bad. Melodramatic? Yes. Completely deserved given the circumstances? I'd like to think so. The past couple of days I've been studying while trying to come out of my funk (explained in an earlier, hidden blog entry). This hasn't been exactly what I've been hoping for, but then, when is it really all what we hope for. The work I've been producing is a bit patchy and sketchy and unclear. I don't like it but I don't have the time to redo it either. <--- This is a horrible excuse; I know better than to use it. This is just how the days have been unraveling. For example, I forced myself to head to be early last night (early meaning around midnight). I cut everything off and laid there with noise in the background, candle burning in the foreground, the words of my guy ringing in my head and the taste of chalk from the sleeping meds on my tongue. Sleep came and with it the nightmares. I woke up off and on all night. Damn it... I ended up more exhausted after "sleeping" than before it. By seven I called the whole experiment quits and took a shower, ready to hit the books before my exam this afternoon. Then the first email arrives. My Archaeology professor is one of the best I've ever had. She's funny, extremely intelligent, slightly flighty and loves what she does. She'll send massive emails to her classes just to tell everyone that there was funny/weirdness with one of her students. It can be hilarious/awkward at times, so I don't always pay attention. However, this morning, I happened to check my email. The first email from her was to let us know that the midterm was to be online. This was good and bad. I rock a full day of classes on Wednesdays and get home around 10:30 PM. This leaves me a little over than hour to take my midterm with the hope that nothing weird happens with the internet. Pressure, sure. But, at least, I could do it in my own environment, always a plus. Then the second email came. No class as she's super sick... Well hell, Earl. Extra study hours for sure, but that throws off the day as well. Still - fist pump in the air for extra time. Then the third email. Weirdness with Blackboard as limited access to exam. Status of availability to be determined... Eight emails later I have determined two things: the exam due date is pushed back a day and that she must be bored out of her mind to keep sending us emails. So I have another night to study, excellent. I can also bake something and drop it off before my class tomorrow for extra credit as her daughter is having a bake sale tomorrow and she isn't feeling well to bake anything (I'm assuming). My mood went from "fuck it all" to "oh hell yes!". Sure, it's more work for me but what the hell, right? Off to study for something else now.  |
"Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once." ~Lillian Dickson Currently listening to: "Wayfaring Stranger" - Neko Case Currently reading: "The Street Lawyer" - John Grisham Bellingham is awesome! I fell in love with this wonderful city, and my heart breaks a little as I'm about to check out of my hotel room. I won't smother you with the details as I'll be heading there in a few months for good. To cover the main points:  The people in Washington are nicer than in California. Yes, I've only been here a week, but I can't honestly say I've never encountered such nice people while touring. They at you. They smile. They'll give you directions and numbers in case you're making a permanent move. Great conversations. Just nice. Western Washington University is beautiful, stupendous university. Even in the winter, the place is surrounded by large, green trees. Did the entire university tour and met some nice students and faculty members. I'm going to try for Fairhaven College, but I can't get in and need to double major, I feel comfortable working with both departments. Just gives me a goofy smile thinking about. If you ever make to Bellingham, make sure to head to Fairhaven District. Reminds me of San Francisco without the in-corroding weirdness. During my travels I found a bead shop, two used books store (fell in love again), a gelato place which features an independent book review magazine, and a handful of coffee shops. Smiles all around. For St. Patty's Day we couldn't get into a pub. The lines were long and the places packed. Obvious concession - Mexican cantina. Had some of the best Crema de Camarones and salsa. As a concession, I had a shot (not so much a shot as a drink) China White (Bailey's, Vodka, Creme de Cacao). Bailey's was the closest to something Irish as I could get. A Canucks game, Victoria Salmon Kings rally, and whale watching are on my list of things to catch once I get settled. Possibly hitching a ride on a ferry to Alaska just for kicks. Already miss it and I'm not even gone yet. |
"Psych Major by day, Deadly Ninja by night." ~CafePress Currently listening to: "Bitter Earth/On The Nature of Daylight" - Max Richter Currently reading: "The Invisible Sex" - J.M. Adovasio Never underestimate your time when you're potentially getting on a plane, especially if it's not something you do on a regular basis. This time hasn't been so bad. I'm only going to be gone about five days, and I'm not leaving the U.S. so there's no worry about customs. Packing was no problem either. The heaviest thing I'm bringing are me text books even though I have a feeling nothing will get done. I'm not going to choose to procrastinate until I actually get there. Trying to make a show when looking at my perspective university. The funny thing about this entire process has been my mom. She hasn't been on a plane for about five years when we took a little flight from Burbank (<--- sucky airport) to Las Vegas for my brother C~'s wedding. Although her former job had her flying almost every two weeks, she's never been able to feel comfortable about "soaring through the sky in a flying death tube". I promised to buy her a drink when we get in the air as she cut off the circulation in my air the last time we sat together. Only have to worry about take off, turbulence, and landing. No problem... My eldest brother S~ asked me if I was nervous. In truth, not really. In my head I have all of this all worked out. I've spent my entire life in California. I've lived among the suburban hordes, the downtown urban set, between fields of lettuce and carrots, and beehives of apartments. North. South. Central. Coast. There's nothing left for me here. Don't get me wrong, my family is here and I'll be making many a train/plane ride back in the future. However, I can't stall my life anymore to fit their needs. Washington will be a good fit for a while. The place is beautiful and open and has great potential. It's time to move on. The backpack is sitting up against my bookshelf waiting to go. My half of the duffel bag is stacked with layers just in case of weather weirdness - Ireland taught me that. There's a book that probably won't get me through the week, but we'll see what I conjure up while I'm there. All phone calls have been made. Sleepless night in front of me. Nothing but good time ahead. I'll catch you up north.  |
"Smile though your heart is aching Smile even though its breaking When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by If you smile through your fear and sorrow Smile and maybe tomorrow You'll see the sun come shining through for you" - Charlie Chaplin Currently listening to: "Smile" - Nat King Cole Currently reading: "The Invisible Sex" - J.M. Adovasio While looking for rain boots this past weekend in preparation for my coming travels, I stumbled across a website by the name of Etsy - a place where people sell vintage and homemade crafts. Between some beautifully hand sewn dresses and colorful knitted scarves and cool collages that are also tables, I looked up at the clock to see I had lost three hours and had yet to actually find a pair of boots. I warn you now: this is a type of internet shopping crack. It really can't be helped. The place is awesome. If you're looking for something fun, whimsical, and serves absolutely no purpose but the make you smile. Go to Etsy. If you're looking for some large print photography to fill that empty space on your wall but don't know how to take a picture to save your life. Go to Etsy. If you really want a pair of lounge pants for all that time you stay at home and surf the net and your sweat pants now have big holes in them and need to be replaced with something a bit more stylish like Thai Fisherman Pants. Go to Etsy. If you are a complete geek and need a place to surf and procrastinate. Go to Etsy. As I have no money but to for college texts and pencils and airplane tickets to go visit other schools that will take more of my money later on, I can only window shop at Etsy. Everything is great, lovely really, and I have no money to spend on it. I can only dream and spend hours of time that should be spent of fixing my Archaeology assignment pining away. For example, there is an "Alice in Wonderland" inspired watch that I would love to splurge on...except I don't wear watches because I have a tendency to lose them. It's lovely, it has a slightly antique feel to it, and it actually serves a purpose where the small puppet sock animal I found browsing and immediately fell in love with does not. Etsy is amazingly cracktastic. I urge you to go and check it out for yourself as I don't want to be the only loser internet window shopper out there. |
"Next to the wound, what women make best is the bandage." ~Jules Barbey d'Aurevilly Currently listening to: "Alison" - Elvis Costello Currently reading: "The Invisible Sex" - J.M. Adovasio Today was one of small accomplishments. You have ever had one of those days where you get a nagging feeling at the back of your neck and realize that you have a stack of little items that need to be finished soon? That was it for me today. I ended up at the circular dining table I usually end up doing everything at except eating and writing out a list of the small things. It was pretty long to tell you the truth. Amazing how those things creep up on you. Slowly but surely I finished off everything, but left no time for dinner. Chinese take-out night complete with fortune cookies. You know your life is one of sadness when you look forward to the free, stale cookies that are meant to signal an end of orange chicken and overcooked steamed white rice. The surprise is kind of nice though. Sometimes the strip of a white paper is philosophical or snarky or something that leaves you pondering as it is as generalized a statement as anything can get. Tonight, however, was a bit interesting. "Keep an eye on your goals or you'll become a troll". Hmm. I can picture when this little gem of cookie prediction made it to the passable file. Somewhere along the way, in a claustrophobic conference room, a lone man is sitting a table with wads of paper crumpled around him, tapping a pen on his lip, when inspirational struck him like a dumbbell to the head. Goals and trolls. Perfection. Tickled pink, I decided to book my trip to Washington while munching on foiled chicken triangles. (As an aside, I have no idea what actually makes up the mashed up triangle, but it is freakin' delicious. I figure I can enjoy them more if I don't think about it.) After an hour of airline quotes, I book the damn thing because I really don't want to become a troll. It took a long-winded conference call from my uncle in the Midwest, my grandmother stuck at home with the flu while my grandfather is in the hospital and a local bank teller in Compton who was probably scared out his mind to get the money wired to me to get this trip in the bag. The least I could do is be prompt about my travel plans. This is one of the most jumbled blogs I've written but it conveys an accurate picture of how my mind will do anything than think about the problematic confluence of events that are circulating my life at the moment. Those forgotten items suddenly become found and finished. Fortunate cookies take prominence. Goals are met without procrastination. Hours are wasted searching the internet on useless knowledge. It is a thing. But at least I'm not a troll. |
“Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.” - Neil Gaiman, Todd Faber Sandman Currently listening to: "Bajo La Piel" - Robi Rosa Currently reading: "Wild Ride" - Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer It is official. I missed my first class today. There was a very valid reason - I have the plague. Not the actual plague, but a plague like illness that is inwardly kicking my ass up the mountain and down the hill. Apparently, I look like the face of death whatever that may look like. My roommate takes one glance at me each morning and can't hide the grimace fast enough. For the past week the first question I get is, "Maybe you should go back to bed for a while?" The advice has been taken as my fever is making me delusional and wavy and the mascot for death. Oh, and I am contagious. For a while, as I spend my afternoons staring up at the horrendous popcorn ceiling in my bedroom, I came up with a plan: a swift kick to the head. My mother used to make the joke that my older brothers and I needed a swift kick to the head in order to be more efficient, obedient children. The kick never happened, but there was always this gleam in her eye that made us all frightful. Maybe, just maybe, it is time to try this theory out. Funny enough I can't get anyone to help me out. This seems unfair, but I can see where the legal implications could be a problem. Jail time for an experiment does seem a little frivolous... Still, where's the friendship? Another popcorn ceiling revelation came around one o'clock on Tuesday when I realized I didn't get any of my writing goals finished for February. This isn't a first but it definitely isn't something I feel pretty. Well, besides the pledge. Writing, besides my family and duty, is the thing I think about most. Story ideas, massive amounts of files on my hard drive (nicknamed "007" - long story), napkins with character quotes, notebook pages filled with nonsense. I can no longer deny I have a writer's mentality. Yet, to be a writer you kinda have to write. Besides class assignments, I have done none of these. This will change. So I went trolling on WDC and found two contests I'm going to enter this month. Seriously. Then, I went searching the Net and found a couple of small publishing firms that are looking for anthology submissions. Worth a try. I'd would rather crash and burn, then watch from the sideline to keep asking myself "What if?" That was sucky analogy but you get what I mean. I'm going to lay down now because there are things on the ceiling that shouldn't be. Hope your week is going better than mine.  |
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