Reading Hannah's recent post about her experience with a cab driver really reminded me of this one site. I'm sure a lot of you have already heard about it, but I just thought I'd share it for the rest of you who don't. After reading the daily news, I try to read this site and the Wonderful World section of msnbc.com to offset my sadness [so unfortunate that most of our daily news is sad/bad]. Anyway, it's...
It feels like it's gonna be a good day.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
recrudescence
I had forgotten my purpose and my reason for doing things, putting my effort to and concerning myself with things of no real importance; very petty, infantine matters. I need to remember why I started a new blog in the first place. Redirect.
I read a lot this summer-- a lot. I went on one of my many book-buying binges and bought 8 books while borrowing 3 from the library. I've finished about 9 in total, loss interest in the last 2, and then reread a few books that were my favorites growing up. Rereading books that you loved when you were younger and far less jaded is really refreshing. It reminded me of the things I valued then, when I first read the book, and offered a different way of looking at things now.
I've been doing a lot of research into teaching programs. I know it sounds almost cliched now, as many people have gone/are going to teach abroad, but this is something I've always wanted to do, but not as an afterthought and neither as a short-term thing. I'm going to be gone for a while, and I'm still trying to help my family, especially my parents, deal with that fact. This entire Summer, I've slowly introduced this fact to them. I don't know if they're truly accepting and digesting it, or just blithely brushing it off. Either way, they're no longer opposed to the idea, and I am growing more and more comfortable talking about it. With every day that goes by, next July/Aug grows closer and my excitement and passion for this greater. I was foolish to have lost sight of why I wanted to go to college so badly, so dramatic for buying into the idea that this was the 'end.' This is no end; just a beginning; a stepping stone to get to where I'm going.
I realize just how disconnected I am to people in general. I lived my life through facebook and Twitter, subconsciously believing that a few words there could be substituted for the real-life thing. I forgot how great real things were. And speaking of real things... It was really really good to hear the voices of good friends. I had forgotten how it felt to actually have a conversation on the phone with someone. Of course, nothing could replace a face-to-face conversation (esp.late night ones), but a conversation on the phone is far better than one online or wall-to wall. I used to brush it off, used to hate talking on the phone with people, but I guess I had neglected to consider that content is key. It was good to catch up and hear some positive words.
Combine all the above with the few good friends who ceaselessly fail to help save my sanity (THANKYOU!), and I am ready and excited to start this Fall quarter. I'm pretty sure only like 6 or 7 people actually read this, but thank you for stopping by this blog and seeing what I've been up to and/or have to say.... it's a lot more than I can say for other people. Anywho, I hope everyone that reads this is feeling assured and, if not happy, at least content, with the things and people in their life. I appreciate all 6/7 of you that read this :)
& CONGRATS to Sarah Bana on becoming the new ASUCI EVP. Did we ever doubt it? ;P
I read a lot this summer-- a lot. I went on one of my many book-buying binges and bought 8 books while borrowing 3 from the library. I've finished about 9 in total, loss interest in the last 2, and then reread a few books that were my favorites growing up. Rereading books that you loved when you were younger and far less jaded is really refreshing. It reminded me of the things I valued then, when I first read the book, and offered a different way of looking at things now.
I've been doing a lot of research into teaching programs. I know it sounds almost cliched now, as many people have gone/are going to teach abroad, but this is something I've always wanted to do, but not as an afterthought and neither as a short-term thing. I'm going to be gone for a while, and I'm still trying to help my family, especially my parents, deal with that fact. This entire Summer, I've slowly introduced this fact to them. I don't know if they're truly accepting and digesting it, or just blithely brushing it off. Either way, they're no longer opposed to the idea, and I am growing more and more comfortable talking about it. With every day that goes by, next July/Aug grows closer and my excitement and passion for this greater. I was foolish to have lost sight of why I wanted to go to college so badly, so dramatic for buying into the idea that this was the 'end.' This is no end; just a beginning; a stepping stone to get to where I'm going.
I realize just how disconnected I am to people in general. I lived my life through facebook and Twitter, subconsciously believing that a few words there could be substituted for the real-life thing. I forgot how great real things were. And speaking of real things... It was really really good to hear the voices of good friends. I had forgotten how it felt to actually have a conversation on the phone with someone. Of course, nothing could replace a face-to-face conversation (esp.late night ones), but a conversation on the phone is far better than one online or wall-to wall. I used to brush it off, used to hate talking on the phone with people, but I guess I had neglected to consider that content is key. It was good to catch up and hear some positive words.
Combine all the above with the few good friends who ceaselessly fail to help save my sanity (THANKYOU!), and I am ready and excited to start this Fall quarter. I'm pretty sure only like 6 or 7 people actually read this, but thank you for stopping by this blog and seeing what I've been up to and/or have to say.... it's a lot more than I can say for other people. Anywho, I hope everyone that reads this is feeling assured and, if not happy, at least content, with the things and people in their life. I appreciate all 6/7 of you that read this :)
& CONGRATS to Sarah Bana on becoming the new ASUCI EVP. Did we ever doubt it? ;P
Sunday, September 20, 2009
limbo is more than a dance
I didn't realize that this week was welcome week already. How did that happen?
It feels so strange to be in this limbo; to be starting the beginning of the last quarter. A victory lap, I guess you could say. In a few months, when most are just beginning to settle into the year, I will be ending mine. I'm not fearful of the future or what I'm doing or of 'facing the real word.' I feel pretty comfortable with all those things. I just... I'm feeling so uneasy about seeing people; not 'seeing' as in hanging out or going to lunch. Seeing in the way that I know will happen so often and maybe even sting so hard-- walking by and seeing someone, and simply just seeing someone. I'm sure everyone's had that experience: you're walking on campus and you see someone you used to be friends with, you get a little excited, they see you but don't seem to share your excitement, so you both say a quick 'hi' or give a nod, and just continue with your day. And as much as I hate it, I have a strange feeling I'll be having a lot of those these next 3 months.
I already felt a pull when Summer started and I don't know whether it just went away or if I masked it with activities, but I didn't feel again... until now. I blogged in my other [first] blog about this feeling-- of dimming friendships, lost time, lost wonder, burnt bridges, lost connections. I was fearful of it back then when I really shouldn't have been-- I had the entire rest of the year and Summer to reconnect and hangout with people-- but I should have saved those worries for now. I feel people drifting. I've even had dreams (or were they nightmares?) about bridges collapsing, burning, being disconnected... always disconnected, I feel[fear]. I didn't know how to convey these feelings then-- I believe I still don't now.
I know most people think I'm pretty carefree, seemingly apathetic and a bit wish-washy at times, but it's just because I have so much to say and I don't know how to say it so I just don't. I don't... and a lot of times this hesitancy gets me in trouble, or I miss out on opportunities that I wholly regret later. So I keep things bottled up, and perhaps the only time these things ever emerge are through paper & pen or the rare talk with my brudder Suj or Moncrief or Layla or Norby---all people who knew that I was more than just a joke and actually stopped to take me seriously, all who (I suddenly realized) are graduated and gone. Of course, I'm not too worried with those 4 because I know our friendships run deep. I just thought I'd have these other people left to get through this last quarter at UCI with but, like I said, I know these people have have drifted-- going, going, gone. And it feels so weird, because I'm not angry-- there's really nothing to be angry about; it just happened. And I know "no two paths are ever the same" (Teal, holla!), but I guess I just didn't foresee this bend in the road would come so abruptly, leading us to different places in our lives so soon. As an upside, this extra time has allowed me to reconnect with a few friends, but without the convenience of Summer and the luxury of close proximity, (even if I try and try and try) it seems hard to maintain equal effort.
This whirlwind of a Summer is coming to a close for us all. I am at once anxious and unnerved to see where everyone will stand once the dust has settled.
It feels so strange to be in this limbo; to be starting the beginning of the last quarter. A victory lap, I guess you could say. In a few months, when most are just beginning to settle into the year, I will be ending mine. I'm not fearful of the future or what I'm doing or of 'facing the real word.' I feel pretty comfortable with all those things. I just... I'm feeling so uneasy about seeing people; not 'seeing' as in hanging out or going to lunch. Seeing in the way that I know will happen so often and maybe even sting so hard-- walking by and seeing someone, and simply just seeing someone. I'm sure everyone's had that experience: you're walking on campus and you see someone you used to be friends with, you get a little excited, they see you but don't seem to share your excitement, so you both say a quick 'hi' or give a nod, and just continue with your day. And as much as I hate it, I have a strange feeling I'll be having a lot of those these next 3 months.
I already felt a pull when Summer started and I don't know whether it just went away or if I masked it with activities, but I didn't feel again... until now. I blogged in my other [first] blog about this feeling-- of dimming friendships, lost time, lost wonder, burnt bridges, lost connections. I was fearful of it back then when I really shouldn't have been-- I had the entire rest of the year and Summer to reconnect and hangout with people-- but I should have saved those worries for now. I feel people drifting. I've even had dreams (or were they nightmares?) about bridges collapsing, burning, being disconnected... always disconnected, I feel[fear]. I didn't know how to convey these feelings then-- I believe I still don't now.
I know most people think I'm pretty carefree, seemingly apathetic and a bit wish-washy at times, but it's just because I have so much to say and I don't know how to say it so I just don't. I don't... and a lot of times this hesitancy gets me in trouble, or I miss out on opportunities that I wholly regret later. So I keep things bottled up, and perhaps the only time these things ever emerge are through paper & pen or the rare talk with my brudder Suj or Moncrief or Layla or Norby---all people who knew that I was more than just a joke and actually stopped to take me seriously, all who (I suddenly realized) are graduated and gone. Of course, I'm not too worried with those 4 because I know our friendships run deep. I just thought I'd have these other people left to get through this last quarter at UCI with but, like I said, I know these people have have drifted-- going, going, gone. And it feels so weird, because I'm not angry-- there's really nothing to be angry about; it just happened. And I know "no two paths are ever the same" (Teal, holla!), but I guess I just didn't foresee this bend in the road would come so abruptly, leading us to different places in our lives so soon. As an upside, this extra time has allowed me to reconnect with a few friends, but without the convenience of Summer and the luxury of close proximity, (even if I try and try and try) it seems hard to maintain equal effort.
This whirlwind of a Summer is coming to a close for us all. I am at once anxious and unnerved to see where everyone will stand once the dust has settled.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
invincible summer
"In the depths of winter I finally learned there was in me an invincible summer."
albert camus
albert camus
This summer has been a rollercoaster, but I feel most things in life are just that way. Keeps things... exciting, I guess. I'm still dealing with being at home, living at home, and living with my parents (especially my mom) at home. I constantly have to remind myself to not get too comfortable. The point of coming back home was to reconcile myself with the people I left (some might say 'abandoned') and things I ran away from. Every encounter with someone or something from home feels like deja vu or, at the very least, like I'm interacting with ghosts... A very ethereal (or maybe is it unreal..?) veil lays upon all my days here. I keep forgetting to remember that I'm not staying here forever, not settling down, just not... not done growing. My brudder and I talked about my being home and I told him that, although I've been home only a few months, a great part of me feels like I'm regressing-- into old habits, circles, ways of thinking. I know some people hope that when they go home, things would be exactly as they left it, unchanged. I would have to disagree... I don't like feeling as though the past 4 years didn't happen. I want to feel like this, this, was all worth something for me-- and then some. (Adolescence was fun, but ignorance is not.)
I'm not sure what I'm getting at. I'm kind of all over the place, feeling the imminent end of my time here growing closer and closer. I still know what I want, and I still want it just as bad. It's just difficult right now finding a way to move forward without completely detaching myself from the past. Let's just say I'm trying to find a (successful) way to downsize all my baggage into this little carry-on.
And my mom? She is better-- not perfect, not good, not fine, but just better. And right now, that's all I could ask for. I've been making an effort to take her out more and talk to her, but it's still hard; maybe even harder now because, since I'm the only person of late who will listen to her and attempt to offer advice, she tells me everything.... and sometimes, knowing everything isn't the best thing.
Aside from those gripes, everything is going well. Good things are happening to good friends, and I really feel happier and a lot more content simply knowing this. As for other, well, "friends": I'm sorting out friendships. That sounds really bad, but I'm just being honest. I always used to say, 'I've got a lot of acquaintances that call themselves friends,' & I often mistook someone's curiosity for sincere concern, offering so much of myself and my friendship and receiving little to nothing in return, unaware of my simple error. So I'm re-evaluating all the effort I put forth and redistributing it to people who truly appreciate and deserve it, in a way that does not leave me feeling short-ended. I feel happier and much more content doing this-- as though the quality of conversations and relationships and even just HUGS is better-- and as a result, those friendships are doing great. I have had an incredible past few weeks :] It's crazy how a few good experiences or days or even nights can recharge you for the many months and seasons ahead. But I guess, the same can be said for a few good friends.
There's just something about the late night Summer air that does something to me, as though it were filled with hope and wonder and possibility, and that every time I breathe it in I am reinvigorated with all these things. Inspired. Enlivened.
Oh, it's one thing to be alive and another to feel alive.
It's good to feel alive :)
I'm not sure what I'm getting at. I'm kind of all over the place, feeling the imminent end of my time here growing closer and closer. I still know what I want, and I still want it just as bad. It's just difficult right now finding a way to move forward without completely detaching myself from the past. Let's just say I'm trying to find a (successful) way to downsize all my baggage into this little carry-on.
And my mom? She is better-- not perfect, not good, not fine, but just better. And right now, that's all I could ask for. I've been making an effort to take her out more and talk to her, but it's still hard; maybe even harder now because, since I'm the only person of late who will listen to her and attempt to offer advice, she tells me everything.... and sometimes, knowing everything isn't the best thing.
Aside from those gripes, everything is going well. Good things are happening to good friends, and I really feel happier and a lot more content simply knowing this. As for other, well, "friends": I'm sorting out friendships. That sounds really bad, but I'm just being honest. I always used to say, 'I've got a lot of acquaintances that call themselves friends,' & I often mistook someone's curiosity for sincere concern, offering so much of myself and my friendship and receiving little to nothing in return, unaware of my simple error. So I'm re-evaluating all the effort I put forth and redistributing it to people who truly appreciate and deserve it, in a way that does not leave me feeling short-ended. I feel happier and much more content doing this-- as though the quality of conversations and relationships and even just HUGS is better-- and as a result, those friendships are doing great. I have had an incredible past few weeks :] It's crazy how a few good experiences or days or even nights can recharge you for the many months and seasons ahead. But I guess, the same can be said for a few good friends.
There's just something about the late night Summer air that does something to me, as though it were filled with hope and wonder and possibility, and that every time I breathe it in I am reinvigorated with all these things. Inspired. Enlivened.
Oh, it's one thing to be alive and another to feel alive.
It's good to feel alive :)
Monday, September 07, 2009
to music
with janet and the jacksons,
my ABCs and 123s,
learning left the classroom onto
two dancing feet.
a rhythm nation compilation of issues
affecting the why and the how,
i saw, i see, i started to believe
in the change i still believe in now.
and through the darkest of days,
the coldest of hours,
you would not let me admit defeat.
resurrected with the tune,
(inspired by you)
i lived cradled in the comfort of the beat.
in retrospect you were
the greatest
my favorite
the reason i be,
revisiting,
remembering,
reloving
the 13-year old me.
*
dear music,
thanks for saving me.
my ABCs and 123s,
learning left the classroom onto
two dancing feet.
a rhythm nation compilation of issues
affecting the why and the how,
i saw, i see, i started to believe
in the change i still believe in now.
and through the darkest of days,
the coldest of hours,
you would not let me admit defeat.
resurrected with the tune,
(inspired by you)
i lived cradled in the comfort of the beat.
in retrospect you were
the greatest
my favorite
the reason i be,
revisiting,
remembering,
reloving
the 13-year old me.
*
dear music,
thanks for saving me.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
mentuer.
I'm not quite sure 'angry' is the right word for this. It's stupid, really, and I don't know why I'm reacting this harshly, but I can't lie. This isn't the first time something like this has happened. The whole situation is reminiscent of one that occurred during my freshman year of college; one that turned my whole world upside down and left the most hollow feeling. It was a foreign feeling then, one I had never experienced before or since-- til now. And maybe that's why I'm feeling such an amalgamation of feelings: anger, frustration, confusion, rage, disappointment, betrayal, helplessness, hurt.. You'd think that getting royally screwed over & lied to once would be enough, but I guess not. Another year, another person, another lie. It's ok. (right?) After tonight, I won't mention this again. I won't let you see me this affected. I need to stop being so trusting; I need to stop expecting so much from people; I need to stop living so blindly; I need to stop caring about things and people far more than they care about me; I need to stop believing. I need to stop believing. I need to stop believing. I need to stop... Dammit. I can't think that way... I'm pretty sure that, despite my best efforts, I'll continue to believe-- in things, ideologies, feelings, places, people...
It's just...
Why does caring hurt so much sometimes?
It's just...
Why does caring hurt so much sometimes?
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
through a glass
It's a bit unsettling to know exactly what things are for, how to use them, set them up, what buttons to press, when, and why; unsettling to be so familiar with a hospital room. Having spent a lot of time in them while growing up, in a silence as sterile as the place itself, it's only natural I guess that I've come to know them like the back of my hand. Why did I say that last part? So cliche...anyway...
Hospitals are comforting to me; I feel like everyone there has a purpose whether they work there, are a patient there, or are just visiting. What was once a sterile and cold building has come to feel rather homey to me. Am I morbid, feeling this way? I don't know. Maybe. But it comes and goes, much like the people. I like hospitals. Much of my family hates them and would rather avoid them at all costs, but something about the extremes of a hospital intrigue me. While transporting my mom to the ICU, I passed by so many adorable elderly people who were on their morning strolls around the floor, telling stories of their children and their pasts which the staff have probably heard at least twice by now. It's funny how the older we get, the harder we try to hold on to everything. We try to keep things alive long past our own expiration dates. As I was leaving to come back home, I stepped to the edge of the curb and stood right next to a woman in a wheelchair. Thinking she, too, was sick, I looked at her sympathetically only to find a newborn baby boy in her arms. I gasped, literally, and she looked up to greet me with eyes so wide and overflowing with joy that I couldn't help but smile and half-scream, "OH!! Congratulations!" Such incredible extremes: people dying and people being born all in the same building, all at the same time. I reveled in the juxtaposition I had just witnessed and was ready to delve deep into the thought when it dawned on me that my mother is different (hopefully..); she is someone stuck in-between this breathing dichotomy. Or is she?
I've grappled with the fact that my parents aren't immortal; they, like everyone else, are human. I wrote a post a while back about their health, something like messy ramblings on my feelings and realizations and whatnot. I didn't publish it, but I think I will. It explains a lot about my relationship with them and how it (our relationship) has never been a steady or reliable one. I don't look back fondly on my childhood. I'll be hard-pressed to say I even had one. Regardless, at some point during my later high school and early college years, I took up looking after them. This isn't really me reciprocating anything. It's just me thinking that this is what a daughter should do, regardless of what they (as parents) did or did not do.
As I walked behind her bed being pushed down the hallway, I was 13 again. Bitter and angry; frustrated that she never took care of herself or went to get checked like I had told her to; pissed that she got herself into this situation. I was so 13. So stupid. So unaware.
I sat in the dark as she and I watched WALL-E on the outdated television screen.
"I don't like noise," she mumbled.
So I sat with her in silence, haunting in its emptiness but as familiar to me as it was 10 years ago. I looked at her then the same way I did when I was younger: from a distance and as if through a glass. I felt like I could never reach her; I still feel like can't. And, to be honest, I'm not sure I ever will.
We'll see how things go. She had one of the best surgeons, so I'm sure she'll be fine. Hopefully I can wrestle with my thoughts enough that some end thought or result will come to surface. Maybe it's the whole feeling of the place, how most everyone is a player in this waiting game, that allows me to think so much and with such clarity. I don't know. All I know is that I don't want to get too familiar with this one. It's too soon to be 13 again.
Hospitals are comforting to me; I feel like everyone there has a purpose whether they work there, are a patient there, or are just visiting. What was once a sterile and cold building has come to feel rather homey to me. Am I morbid, feeling this way? I don't know. Maybe. But it comes and goes, much like the people. I like hospitals. Much of my family hates them and would rather avoid them at all costs, but something about the extremes of a hospital intrigue me. While transporting my mom to the ICU, I passed by so many adorable elderly people who were on their morning strolls around the floor, telling stories of their children and their pasts which the staff have probably heard at least twice by now. It's funny how the older we get, the harder we try to hold on to everything. We try to keep things alive long past our own expiration dates. As I was leaving to come back home, I stepped to the edge of the curb and stood right next to a woman in a wheelchair. Thinking she, too, was sick, I looked at her sympathetically only to find a newborn baby boy in her arms. I gasped, literally, and she looked up to greet me with eyes so wide and overflowing with joy that I couldn't help but smile and half-scream, "OH!! Congratulations!" Such incredible extremes: people dying and people being born all in the same building, all at the same time. I reveled in the juxtaposition I had just witnessed and was ready to delve deep into the thought when it dawned on me that my mother is different (hopefully..); she is someone stuck in-between this breathing dichotomy. Or is she?
I've grappled with the fact that my parents aren't immortal; they, like everyone else, are human. I wrote a post a while back about their health, something like messy ramblings on my feelings and realizations and whatnot. I didn't publish it, but I think I will. It explains a lot about my relationship with them and how it (our relationship) has never been a steady or reliable one. I don't look back fondly on my childhood. I'll be hard-pressed to say I even had one. Regardless, at some point during my later high school and early college years, I took up looking after them. This isn't really me reciprocating anything. It's just me thinking that this is what a daughter should do, regardless of what they (as parents) did or did not do.
As I walked behind her bed being pushed down the hallway, I was 13 again. Bitter and angry; frustrated that she never took care of herself or went to get checked like I had told her to; pissed that she got herself into this situation. I was so 13. So stupid. So unaware.
I sat in the dark as she and I watched WALL-E on the outdated television screen.
"I don't like noise," she mumbled.
So I sat with her in silence, haunting in its emptiness but as familiar to me as it was 10 years ago. I looked at her then the same way I did when I was younger: from a distance and as if through a glass. I felt like I could never reach her; I still feel like can't. And, to be honest, I'm not sure I ever will.
We'll see how things go. She had one of the best surgeons, so I'm sure she'll be fine. Hopefully I can wrestle with my thoughts enough that some end thought or result will come to surface. Maybe it's the whole feeling of the place, how most everyone is a player in this waiting game, that allows me to think so much and with such clarity. I don't know. All I know is that I don't want to get too familiar with this one. It's too soon to be 13 again.
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