Lesson Nine: Don't underestimate the Universe.

Can it really, really be almost May? Oh Time, at what clips you do fly. Four months of 08 come and gone... and what does it mean? Right now you're 8, and before you know it you're 22. Or, right now you're 22, and before you know it you're 36. Hmmmm. Hmmmmm.

I hope you'll pardon me; the universe has just thrown me another interesting curve ball and I'm still coming to terms with it. It sure does have a divine sense of humor, doesn't it? But what would life be if it always went they way I expected it to? Rather dull, I'd like to think, because really, the workings of my own imagination really couldn't even begin to compare with the genius crafting of the sequence of events of the past few months. (This is why I couldn't be a fiction writer.)

So I've been reading a bunch of Salinger lately, and there are a couple of interesting points that come up. In "Teddy", Teddy says that he loves his parents and hopes that they'll enjoy themselves, but that his parents don't love him and his sister in the same way, but rather try to shape them into something else instead of letting them be who they are, sometimes loving the idea of loving them more than they love him and his sister themselves. In "Raise High the Roof Beams, Carpenters", a quote from Seymour's journal is as follows:

" ... my beloved has an undying, basically undeviating love for the institution of marriage itself. She has a primal urge to play house permanently. Her marital goals are so absurd and touching. She wants to get a very dark sun tan and go up to the desk clerk in some very posh hotel and ask if her Husband has picked up the mail yet. She wants to shop for curtains. She wants to shop for maternity clothes. She wants to get out of her mother's house, whether she knows it or not, and despite her attachment to her. She wants children--good-looking children, with her features, not mine. I have a feeling, too, that she wants her own Christmas-tree ornaments to unbox annually, not her mother's.

"... But are [her marriage motives] despicable? In a way, they must be, but yet they seem to me so human-size and beautiful that I can't think of them even now as I write this without feeling deeply, deeply moved."

Don't you find that interesting?

What is the point of this life, anyhow? Oh, the eternal question. Does everything we do always have to be laden with such great importance and consequence? Can't we just enjoy ourselves while we're here, so long as we're not offending anyone else? Or should we concern ourselves with chasing after lofty and highly virtuous, impressive goals lest we be labeled Harmless but Silly Good-for-Nothings? Why should we look down on others who are different and who we don't understand, and why should we idolize those who do what we can't because we lack the specific abilities and qualities that they possess in abundance?

I'm being very general and vague here, though I have certain specific examples in mind... perhaps you might, too?

Maybe truly being alive means having a passion.

Or maybe it means having understanding or insight to the degree of transcendence.

(Don't ask me what exactly I mean by that, because I'm not sure I could explain it to you.)



Moving on to an entirely topic now, however... my design teacher loved my latest assignment, even though I had been stressing over the imperfection of the painted lines and corners I had to make with acrylic. I wasted so much paint, because I haven't gotten used to how much is needed to paint how many square centimeters of area. Next assignment? A CD cover. My pick is Stevie Ray Vaughan. I just picked up a CD over the weekend and I'm loving it. Oh yes, I'm excited.

Don't overanalyze.

He said, "So I guess I'll see you next week?" and I must have been beaming, because the smile he smiled back at me would be enough to last me long past next Monday.

Nutritious and delicious!

One of my new favorite foods is wheat and barley cereal with strawberries and green tea soy milk.

The fact that I'm smiling right now is driving me crazy.

This is getting just a little bit out of hand. But I guess it sure beats the alternative. Maybe it'll take me just a little bit longer to fall asleep, but maybe I'll kind of enjoy that. I'm dying for next week to roll around, but this weekend starting tomorrow morning is exciting enough for me to not mind, really.

Patience, patience, patience, patience, patience.

I love life.

I love love.

I love when the world seems to present so many possibilities.

P.S. I have a slight crush on Seymour Glass from A Perfect Day for Bananafish. He's quite the charmer.

Dedicated to...

I'm submitting that text portrait of xxxxxx to the student art show tomorrow. It's all framed and matted now, it looks all professional... I mean, it's not a perfect piece, I could list all the flaws for you with no hesitation, but it's one of my first--no, actually, it IS my first "real" piece that I'm proud of, and now it's something that I have really mixed feelings to look at. I feel like I want to keep it, because it has sentimental value to me because I do consider it my first "real" artwork, but I also feel weird about keeping a portrait of my xx xxxxxxxxx. I have half a mind to give it to xxx sometime, and just say, "Do what you want with it, but here, you should have this instead of me." After all, who knows, if it weren't for xxx, maybe I wouldn't have had the courage or confidence to drop Longy instead of sticking to it for the sake of sticking to it, and I wouldn't have been able to try design right now in the first place, xxxxxxx and xxxxxxxxxxxx issues aside. It's a little bit conflicting.

Maybe xx would just feel like shit if I gave it to xxx. Maybe I should mail it anonymously to xxx xxxxxxx, because who wouldn't love a piece of artwork of xxxxx xxx? Hmm, that might be a little creepy, though...

When I was at the frame shop, the guy who was helping me thought the piece was really cool. He said to me, "Wow, is this a famous musician?" to which I replied, "No, it's just... a friend of mine." And he said something like "Someday he'll be famous", and I said, "Yeah, someday maybe," and he said, "He will be if he keeps getting art pieces like this done of him!" And later on, the guy said to me, "So you know, if you ever feel like coming back here and doing sketches of frames, or of people who work here or something......." I laughed at the compliments, but inside, I was telepathically screaming, "Hear that, xxxxxx?????? You should have been grateful, damnit!"

The Road.

Bumps and blisters along the way should not keep me from moving forward. Nor should I continue to seek out the paths that provide increasingly more of the same bumps and blisters. Take a side path, Dummy.

Yesterday I lost my phone in the park. I was sitting to rest my legs after a ridiculous 6-or-something-hour walk all over the city--around the Embarcadero, through North Beach and Chinatown, through the Haight and part of the park--and called a couple of people to chat while enjoying the samba drumming, and about an hour later as I sat down in the Church muni station, I realized that my phone was not in my bag. After checking about 8 times, I realized that I must have left it on that grassy hill, and had to trek all the way back. It was getting darker and cooler and I kept thinking, shoot, couldn't I have lost something else? Like the book I borrowed from someone, since it was cheap and I could always buy another one; or this stupid OJ bottle, although, of course that would have meant littering; or my stupid pencils that I didn't even use very much that day anyway; but my phone? The phone I paid $100 after not having one with a working screen for more than a year, that was my best form of communication with work and family and friends who help me keep my sanity every 12 hours or so? I panicked, though only slightly. Luckily, a girl had found it and called a few of the people who I had made phone calls to in the recent hour, and was able to give it to my dad, so in the end, everything was fine.

But seriously? Even if I didn't find my phone and it was gone for good, everything would be fine anyway. That's what I need to get into my head.




And not just with phones.

And the weekend begins.

I am scheming both ways. I don't know my own head. I can't wait to go to work for some very sly reasons, but I'm waiting for something else, too.

By the way, a muni train full of rowdy teenage sports fans kind of makes me feel like I never, ever, ever want to have kids.

I am exercising a bit too much. I really need to cut back on it. Four hours in one day is a bit too much after less than 6 hours of sleep.

I walked from Van Ness and Post along Jackson, then meandered to Fisherman's Wharf and down Stockton between lunch and work this afternoon. I live in an incredible city, and I'm finally doing what I intended to do back in middle school--to explore it on foot until my feet hurt, only it wasn't my feet, it was my muscles. I live in an amazing city, though. It was incredibly warm today, which gave it a guilt-free, summery feeling. Then, during the half hour before work, I lay down on the cool, soft grass beneath a tree abloom with flowers, while I let the breeze and the quiet wash over me gently. It was at that precise moment, as my eyes traced the outlines of the leaves and branches against the deep blue of the sky, that I thought to myself: This is why I am alive.

Such moments are always fleeting. I guess you've got to grab on to what you can.

Worrying makes you fat.

I am exhausted, but happy.

Things aren't going at all how I planned or expected, but I don't mind that at all. Maybe everything that's been happening in the past couple of months have really created a better situation for me right now, or maybe it's all part of learning to see the sunny sides of things in life and doing what you can with them.

I love the sight of dozens of 3-foot-tall kiddies yelping excitedly during Hapkido classes, in gi's and bare feet and swishing black hair. I love how I felt so hilariously dazed confused during an impromptu Safeway trip this evening that I had to debate to myself out loud whether I needed mochi ice cream, or where I would be kept if I were a tub of hummus. I love how strong I feel after running all the energy out of my legs. I love knowing that I'm doing good things for myself.

I am grateful for all the people in my life. Those who have been my shoulder to cry on and an ear for sympathy, those who are just making their appearances in recent weeks, and those from years before now who have helped shape me into who I am. I guess maybe I say this a lot, but I want to make sure that I don't take them for granted.

I feel free in so many ways. I feel more independent. I feel like I'm learning important things about and for myself. I hope this trend continues.

I'm happy, and I have no idea what is going on with most aspects of my life.

My new motto: Worrying makes you fat.

Lesson Six: The Lamb Tongue at Kokkari is Delicious.

Lesson Seven: Peanut butter is a runner's wonderfood.

Lesson Eight: A good run develops a good appetite, leading to the discovery of Lesson Six.

Today I was able to concentrate on reading my book with a clear mind.
Today I made friends with a classmate.
Today I went on a fabulous run and felt stellar afterwards.
Today I accidentally heard an old voicemail that I could not bring myself to delete even though I have absolutely no desire to listen to it again..
Today I enjoyed really good conversation near the end of my work shift.
Today I borrowed a book from a co-worker.

Do you ever feel like red has become orange, and orange has become green, and green has become pink, and pink has become gray? But only slightly so. It's like living one of your dreams, except that instead of people and places getting mixed up, it's feelings and intentions. What is my poor head up to now? I'm too overwhelmed to go to sleep, though I know I need to.

They say that everything happens for a reason.

Sometimes, that's what gets you through it all.

For old times' sake: 2/17/07

"Who do you want to be?

So on the plus side of things, it's a lot like getting to play House in elementary school.  Who do you want to be?  The mom?  The sister?  The baby?  The nanny?  I'm wearing a pretty red dress.  Well, I'm making dinner right now and then I'm going to go get a haircut.  No, I don't feel like watching a movie today... Let's play chess instead.  Now I'm going to take a nap.  Soon maybe I'm moving to Boston.  Now I'm going to be a painter.  I'm going to get up at 5:30am every single morning to run for 5-10 miles, and maybe I'll even become a Hapkido maniac, dye my hair orange, buy some new shoes, work in a restaurant, and be a Broadway star.  Could you go get me some potatoes?  Don't forget, next time I get to be the sister.

Sometimes I also suspect that I secretly enjoy this sort of thing.  It reassures me that I am, in fact, both alive and human.  And then there are also all of the possibilities.  Maybe in five years... you'll see.  Or maybe there'll be a huge fight, and we'll never speak again.  Maybe we'll meet in England.  Maybe we'll just miss each other on the bus.  Either way, it's like being in my own personal TV show, or novel.  It's kind of romantic in that way.  And it makes me feel like kind of a big deal.  Kind of.

Der Kuntsgriff ist, besondere Dinge zu vergessen und sich an besondere Dinge zu erinnern.  Aber wie kann man versuchen etwas schön zu vergessen?  Wie kann man wünschen, das etwas schön nie passiert ist?

I am so alive right now."

Rereading this entry made me stop and think.  It's amazing to realize how much of the same person I am from a year ago in spite of certain technicalities, and how comforting that is.  If there were ever any one thing to show who I am... this is it.  And I really wouldn't wish for anything different.

Good night.  World, I love you.

I'm kind of obsessive.

(That doesn't surprise you, does it?)

I watched The Incredibles four times in four days since Thursday, then today I watched the Special Features disc. I've been talking to certain people about it so exhaustingly over AIM that I had to give them some relief by writing about it here instead. It's making me so excited that, even though I was so tired today, I don't feel very much like sleeping right now.

It feels like a new crush: It makes me smile. I get so into it. It makes me forget completely about doubts or whatever problems that were plaguing the depths of my mind just a couple of hours earlier. I can't believe I wasn't into it like this before... but wasn't there a part of me that always has been...? Isn't it connected to everything else that I've done and have been interested in before? Is this something I want to look into? Do I know what I'm getting into? Could this be something good? What do I need to learn to make this happen? Am I just being impulsive?

I also cleaned my room today (pictures to come!) and am excited about seeing two of my very favorite musician-comedians on-stage at the end of May (hopefully, pictures to come!). I cleared all the dishes from the sink, and my roommate lent me her "OK Computer" Radiohead album, too.

How is it that life feels so beautiful right now? Who would like to go on a run with me right now?

10 hours later, the finished product.

Don't worry, I really wasn't working on this continuously.



I also went out running for about 3 and a half hours. While I was in the park, I stopped to watch these people dancing on roller skates to music from this huge speaker and a man playing the bongos. I like Sundays.

Quiet.

It's Sunday, and it's 11:52am. Normally, I would be upset that "so much" of the day has gone by without me "getting anything done." But it seems my brain is shifting gears. I'm liking this.



I'm sitting at my desk, racking my brains over this design assignment that I'm sure our teacher doesn't expect us to spend more than half an hour on at home. I've come to several arrangements of these 1.5"x1.5" magazine cut-outs, and something in the back of my head tells me that any one of those should be "just fine", but I can't help but feel that there's something I'm not yet seeing. iTunes has gone through a Ravel piano and violin sonata and is now moving through two discs of Nine Inch Nails, and I'm warming up to the idea of a long running break in a bit. How far can I get today? That really is the most important question I have in life at the moment.

I checked out Hapkido USA on Taraval St. yesterday. It seems promising. I'm going in for a little evaluation-type thing on Wednesday afternoon so they can see what level I'm at. It's much pricier than the good ol' EC, of course, but I'll have to find a way. I'm hoping that Hapkido will be good for my sanity and peace of mind. I've had this recent thirst for strengthening, too.

I think I need to learn to be a little more selfish.

Incredible.

Oh my god. Can I say how amazing I think The Incredibles is? It's almost 2am and I just finished watching it for the third time in 48 hours, this time with writer and director commentary.

I love re-watching movies with director commentary. DVDs are awesome.

Getting back to my point. I love how Violet has thick, black eyebrows, and how Helen's hair is asymmetrical. I love how their hair looks when it's wet. I love how their hair has the texture of and seems to jet out of their heads at the roots like Barbie dolls. I love their facial expressions, and I love how their bodies move (Helen strikes a pretty decent fighting stance when surprised by Edna's security gun). I love seeing the clothes that Helen wears. I love the voice acting. I love the character designs. I love how the story flows. I love the timing. Really, what more could you desire?

And yes, Elastigirl is still my new role model.

I am inspired.


Psssst.... Hapkido-place-inspecting tomorrow!

Strength is the key.

All in all, not a bad day.

Skipped class this morning because I was sleepy and figured I could get by without a day of charcoal-drawing. I lounged in bed, listened to music on my computer, browsed through a magazine that I had bought for Design homework. Emailed my manager at work about getting more hours. Was a lot of lazy. Watched The Incredibles while going for a 90-minute run in the middle. Stretched and did push-ups and crunches. Considered mailing out my taxes. Cooked tofu. Went to work, and now my breath smells like garlic-fried fish. Gross.

I probably do my most effective thinking during my long runs. Good weather and my iPod paired with the exercise endorphins always put me in such a positive mindset, which is so relieving. How could I be upset about anything when my heart is pounding so hard in my chest that it has no spare ounce of energy to beat desperately about anything else? The important thing is for you to get stronger. A little pain helps you to grow. Leave the past in the past; deal with the present. Prove to yourself what you're worth. My new role model is Elastigirl. I thought of things like that, and it felt amazing.

The feeling lasted through the end of The Incredibles. Then I plummeted. But that means I'm growing, right?

So thank goodness I have work. It gets me to stop thinking so much about Me, which is kind of what I need right now. I don't even mind getting out late, since I figure I make another dollar for each extra 4 minutes that I stay. I like talking to the hostesses and waiters and bussers and bartenders and the valet when he comes inside to stay warm at the end of the night--discussions about good books, updates about photography gigs or photo journalism internships or new oil paintings, stories about their kids or who they're dating, complaints about customers, hairdresser referrals, casual banter. Shoot, I wish I could be at work all the time. Does this mean I need a life? :P

Hapkido place on Saturdayyyyyyy.

Lesson Five.

I need to stop apologizing to myself for who I am.

I need to learn to love myself.