Anticipating 2009!

Even though the end of the year is fast approaching, new things still managed to pop into my life and surprise me. It really is funny how things work out the way they do - you never can tell what's coming and what's going, so it's important to keep an open mind all throughout. I am just so incredibly thankful for all the blessings I've gotten this past year that I seriously am so ready for whatever 2009 is going to bring my way (whether it be good or bad). I've learned so much about myself recently that my upcoming resolutions would basically just be a continuation of whatever I'm trying to change about myself already - like becoming more patient, trying to stay positive no matter what, and just choosing to be happy in general. I know we hear and say it all the time, but life really is too short to be wasted on negativity. It is so much more rewarding to try and create beautiful memories every single moment you can - that way you can look back at your life with joy and gratitude. 

On another note, I've recently become employed as a server and I have to say, the job itself is incredibly exhausting! However, I couldn't be happier working where I do, because our restaurant is amazing and my coworkers make every minute of my shift worthwhile. We all have the best time at work that it feels like we have a party of our own behind the scenes! I am so grateful for this job that I wouldn't trade it for the world. With today's shitty economy, I consider myself lucky to even have found something, so I'm more than ecstatic with what I have. 

Meanwhile, things are going really well with Ben, and now I really understand what real love is because he always shows me. I'm really fortunate to have met him, and it's so gross sometimes cuz I can't believe how in love I am! hahaha. (see what I mean? I just typed in a laugh, which means I'm pretty embarrassed at how smitten I am. So pathetic. Pardon me!) But seriously, because of him, I'm more appreciative of the little things and of life itself - and he makes me want to be better inside and out. I can only hope that everyone finds their own Ben. It is very therapeutic. =]

Three more days and it's a whole 'nother year... I seriously can't wait!♥

It's A Fight For Love.

I'm slowly learning that loving somebody is not the easiest thing to do.

It doesn't matter how giddy you are, or how ecstatic that person makes you. It doesn't matter how often they take you out, or how amazing their gifts are - heck, it doesn't even matter what they say because at the end of the day, if you have even just a tinge of doubt in your mind about whether this person is really sincere or not, you can't possibly claim that you love them. We often say (so mindlessly) that trust is the foundation of every strong relationship, but we don't really see just how true this is until we're put in a situation where that trust is risked. I say this because I've experienced it. I guess you could say I became complacent - overconfident, even; but I think spoiled would be a better word to describe me. I became so spoiled that I never thought I'd ever have a reason to question my relationship. 

Contrary to what I thought, I am not exempt from feeling paranoid and doubtful - but that's because I never had a reason to feel that way. From the beginning, I've always felt so lucky to have been blessed with the kind of partnership that was so strong, certain, and secure. At the time it seemed like there was no stopping us; there was nothing in this world that could possibly change anything. It was amazing. But it was foolish of me to ignore the possibility that this might be threatened someday; I mean, after all, this is not a perfect world, and we were bound to come across something unpleasant. It's one thing to understand that relationships aren't meant to be easy; it's another to decide whether or not you'd like to work through the rough patches together.

After a few moments to myself and an emergency phone call to my mom (who was intensely congested when she gave me advice), I realized that the choice was mine to make. I could, 1). walk away and escape the potential heartache, or 2). fight for it, move on and start anew. The difference between the two lies heavily on whether or not I love that person enough. And apparently, I do...because I chose number 2. Like my mom said, there are some things in this world that really are worth fighting for. 

Here's to hoping I don't lose in the end.

 

Happy Dappy Me.

In light of my recent "baby" nervous-breakdown, I've been trying really hard to stay as happy and as positive as I can be. I managed to capture a cold and a nasty cough over the past week (which was probably due to stress) and I was starting to get really tired of being sad and depressed all the time. It takes so much effort to stay down in the dumps, not to mention moping around wasn't really getting me anywhere and I was running out of tears to cry out. Just the thought of venting to somebody about the things in my life that just won't pan out makes me want to gag myself with a spork, so I'm really enjoying the fact that finally, for the first time in about three months, I can honestly say that I'm happy and emotionally healthy.

I'm planning to stay this way for as long as I can, so I've been training myself to look past the problems I have no control over and to just enjoy the things that I have in my life right now. I'm also making a conscious effort in abolishing my long-time habit of complaining - and so far, I'm making progress (or so, I think). I realized that if I complain less, I'll probably be less unhappy - which would then make me more happy. After re-learning the lesson that happiness is a choice and not a feeling, I've been keeping tabs on myself in terms of choosing the right mindset and attitude. I've been so focused on trying to find solutions to problems I really have no solutions to that I was starting to wallow in my misery. But now that I've knocked some sense into my head, I realized that the only thing I can control is myself - so I'm choosing to smile even when life hands me a pile of manure.

With my attempts at revitalizing my life with oodles of positive energy, I'm also starting to realize that I need to be careful with the people I spend my time with. I can't be around folks who mope around all the time, or are negative, or worse, are not supportive of my goals and dreams. Very often I find myself listening to a bunch of dopes telling me I can't do certain things because of so and so reasons, but now I'm done with it. I don't need negative, debbie downers in my life. If you're here to give me a list of reasons why I simply CAN'T, then do me a favor and get away from me. Please. Go and rain on someone else's parade. 

I guess you can say I'm starting to love myself again. I can't rely on other people to do that for me, and I know that I'm a much better person when I'm confident and secure in myself. Besides, happy people are more attractive in every sense of the word. So come and be happy with me!♥

Call me crazy.

It's a foolish thing to say, but for the record, I'd like to make it known that I'm willing to risk it all.

Here's to hoping for the best.♥

Nikki Flores, I Wanna Know You Like That

Dreaming With A Broken Heart.

Somehow, I always find myself in situations where I can potentially lose - myself, my mind, my heart, everything. It sounds cynical, but sometimes I do believe that I maybe one of those people who are simply never meant to be happy. I know that in life, everything has to do with perspective. The way you see yourself, the way you see things, the way you look at situations - all these factors affect how your life will turn out to be; but for some reason, I feel like no amount of perspective can possibly change the outcome of my life. It's like no matter how optimistic I am, or how hopeful I attempt to be; my life will still turn out to be shittier than ever. Yes, I sound like an ungrateful shmuck, and I know that I should be more appreciative of the fact that I'm alive and physically well; but the truth is, it feels like I'm slowly rotting from the inside, and my heart is withering like a neglected fern. 

I'm hoping against hope that someone will water me.

Thank you...

for not giving up on me yesterday, for making today worthwhile, and for getting me excited about tomorrow. 

I couldn't have asked for anything better.

He's a dreamer like me.

“If you ever wanted to ever be anything, there’ll always be somebody that’ll shoot down any dream.” -Kanye West, Bring Me Down

There's something about Kanye West that engulfs my curiosity. It could be his unparalleled creativity, daring artistic choices, and overly-assertive ways that pique my interest, but I know it goes beyond the obvious. While others see a cocky, careless, self-proclaimed divo, I see a genuine dreamer like myself - and it is perhaps that which draws me to Kanye and his music. His dreams are reflected in his albums; his very desires and innermost feelings thump through every beat, flow through every hook, swim through each melody. His songs, charged with content so utterly incomparable to the rest of what today's industry has to offer, bring together the memories of the past, the warmth of the present, and the hope of the future. Clearly, Kanye is more than a musician, and is way beyond a celebrity - to me, he is the ultimate artist: unpretentious and confidently authentic, he is constantly reinventing the wheel he made himself. With the release of his new album, 808s and Heartbreak come an array of opinions ranging from good to bad. Some may find this poignantly different record a mistake on Kanye's part; but only those like myself, who recognize his malleable craft, are the ones who will be able to truly appreciate it. 808s and Heartbreak is different because it reflects a different part of himself - perhaps the part which he discovered during the tragic death of his mother. Heartfelt and personal in a true-hip-hop kind of way, Kanye West's fourth album is proof that as a genuine dreamer, not even a broken heart can stop him from turning his every artistic ambition a reality.

Kudos to Mr. West.

Dear ____,

Your lies are terrorizing me in my dreams, turning them into nightmares. I wake up livid, and everyday you keep the truth from me, I grow increasingly resentful. I don't know if you notice the rift that is slowly forming between us - but it's there. You're stubborn, senseless and unaware. You're starting to act like someone I can barely recognize, and I'm beginning to wonder how long you're going to keep this up. 

I hope you read this and know that I'm talking about you.

The Grown Up Kind.

It's pretty bizarre that I don't get butterflies when I think about him. When he calls, my stomach doesn't do that little topsy-turvy thing it usually does when the person I like gives me a ring. My heart doesn't drop, nor flutter, at the sound of his voice. It is almost as if he has no kind of effect on me, whatsoever - and I wonder if feeling that way, feeling nothing, feeling normal, is supposed to be some sort of sign. Is this relationship off to a bad start? Are we doomed to fail? Honestly, I have no freakin' idea. One thing I do know for sure is that I'm scared shitless. I don't know why I'm not as excited as I ought to be. And the funniest thing about all this is that he feels the EXACT same way. 

I've been so used to getting my tummy stuffed with butterflies that the absence of infatuation alarms me. People are usually initially infatuated at the beginning of a relationship, but it appears to me that we somehow either haven't gotten to that point yet or just entirely skipped that part. After all, we've only known each other, what, like a month or something, so maybe it's too early for all that to come to the surface. Yet I still can't help but wonder why this relationship is so different from all the others. It's oddly frustrating too - trying to figure out why assholes like David can rev up my heart rate like a bad-ass cardio session while great guys like my Ben keep my heart rate normal. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like Ben, I really do. It's just surprising that my head's on right this time around. I feel normal when I'm with him... not too giddy nor overly excited by the fact that we're together. When I look into his eyes, I don't see stars, just perfectly healthy pupils. However, we do kiss passionately, embrace whenever and wherever, and hold hands tightly. I just don't understand why I don't feel overwhelmed with emotion. 

I guess this is actually a good thing. Just because something is different doesn't necessarily mean it's bad, right? I think it's cool that I don't feel like I'm losing my mind when I'm not with him. When we're not together, he does his thing and I do mine (even if these days, it's pretty much a bunch of nothing). And when we are around each other, we have fun together. We laugh, we joke around, and most of all - we talk. We talk about anything and everything, and even though we spend almost everyday together, it feels like there's still so much to learn and way more things to discover. We're becoming great friends while fostering a healthy relationship. Now that I think about it, I realize that I've just been so used to being infatuated all the time that I started to use it as a measuring device of some sort. But the thing is, infatuation is not enough to keep a relationship going. The giddiness, the butterflies, the heart-flutters --- all those things fade in time. I'd rather have what he and I have at this point - a mutual decision of commitment. 

I think I'm finally experiencing the kind of relationship I've always dreamed of.♥

Liars can kiss my touche.

Growing up, I prided myself in knowing that I had the ability to tell good lies. I was given the gift of a wild imagination, so conjuring up a story to back up whatever shenanigans I got myself into was never a problem. I just mustered up enough courage, kept my cool, put on my acting face, and went for it without batting an eyelash. I could just see it - God tallying up my fibs, shaking his head in disappointment. I was remorseless. But as with every bad deed in life, my lies eventually caught up to me. It wasn't too long until I got tired of having to cover up old lies with new ones, and my imagination was starting to lose steam. Lying had ruined me from the inside.

It took me a couple years to grow out of that habit, and now, I'm proud to say that I find it easier to tell the truth than lie. The only problem I have these days is other people lying to me. As a self-confessed pro-fibber, I have an eye for liars. I cannot only see it in their eyes, but I can sense it --- when something's fishy, it seeps through my veins. I absolutely hate being lied to (and I mean, who doesn't?) but the fact of the matter is, it's bound to happen. To me, to you, to everyone. It just sucks when the one lying to you is the one you least expect to hide things from you. 

Tip of the day: lying ruins relationships, even when you're not trying to.

Sweet November.

A new relationship, a new president, and new things to be thankful for during Thanksgiving... I can't believe it's November already!

Despite the fact that it's been cold, rainy, and wet, the days are looking to be much brighter than usual. It could, of course be due to all the "new" things happening in my life right now - none of which, unfortunately, have anything to do with a job. As frustrating as that is though, I've been trying to keep my head out of the dumps and attempting to plaster a smile on my face. (I'm still in the process of convincing myself that things will get better...somehow, sometime soon.) 

On another note, we are officially about 57 days away from the year 2009. It's pretty insane, since I felt like 2008 just started. I just turned 23 in August, and now that 09 is coming up, I'll be turning 24 (yikes!). I'm hoping I get to travel to France next year, and apply for graduate school in the Fall. I'm also hoping that the Los Feliz home I bookmarked on my browser (and the one I've been looking at for the past year and a half) will remain unsold - as highly unlikely as that is. But seriously, you never know what could happen. I'm simply keeping the possibilities open.

I'm super stoked for the future even though I know there are new challenges to face. But what's life like without barriers? I'm looking forward to growing a bit more and learning tons about myself and others. For now, I'm going to cherish this month... the sweet, amazing month of November.♥

Fatty McFat Fat.

It could have been the bagel I had early this morning, the three bowls of the most bizarre pasta alfredo I've ever cooked in my life (+ an even more bizarre spanish sardine sandwich), the two slices of stuffed crust pizza (+ one and a half cheesy bread sticks), or my alarmingly large hazelnut iced coffee from Mcdonald's that's giving my tummy a run for the hills. I don't know what I was thinking when I stuffed my face with all of the above objects; all I know is, I should have tried to reason with myself before deciding to eat anything and everything.  For some odd reason, I've been eating terrible things these past few weeks. Yesterday, I happily feasted on some five or so pieces of wings from wingstop, and over the weekend, when my aunt and cousin came over from Chicago, I helped myself to more pizza and some greasy chinese food. I ran four miles on monday and was planning on running today, but ended up passing out on Jackie's couch instead. I think I'm officially a fat glutton. Gross.

I need to hop back on the workout plan and return to my healthy eating habits, but I have to say, times are pretty damn hard these days. It's hard to eat healthy when you're broke AND unemployed. I mean, seriously, the only cheap thing I can think of that probably won't give me a heart attack before 30 is tofu - but am I seriously going to buy tofu so I can eat it everyday? The idea alone makes me want to vomit, and this is coming from a person who absolutely worships the stuff. The only thing a destitute twenty-something can do to lose weight is to actually NOT eat. That way I'm not only saving myself from putting on some pounds, but I'm also saving myself some money (money I don't have, of course). I swear this whole economic downfall is getting to be a real pain in the touche, and as much as my problems aren't as monumental as some hot shot wall street investment banker who just lost everything he owns in his life, I still feel like my issues are gargantuan. 

I have huge plans of running tomorrow, except I think weather.com has reported that there are possibilities of rainfall tomorrow AND friday - which is just great because it totally seems like the universe just won't let me lose twenty freakin pounds. You know what, rain or shine, I'm gonna drag the boyfriend out with me so we can get on the workout plan together. I don't care if it rains, storms, snows, or if a tornado starts hitting. I'm gonna run off two weeks worth of junk food tomorrow, and there is nothing anybody can do to stop me.

(Let's hope the boyfriend lets me run in the rain.)

No Looking Back.

Gone are the days of temporary giddiness, emotional uncertainty, and dismal anxiety. I no longer have to worry about "accidentally" getting myself into some sort of twisted mind & heart game. This time there are no second thoughts. There are no doubts. There are no hesitations. Everything is falling into place by choice - and with great purpose. This time I'm moving forward - excitedly and wholeheartedly. Somehow the future seems so much brighter, now that someone's there to share it with me.

I can't wait to see where life takes US. ♥

I put all my guts in a bag and finally put my foot down.

I finally decided it was time to let David go.

I was growing increasingly exhausted trying to figure out whether or not he really liked me. Of course, that alone proves that he doesn't; yet somehow, just like a certified dope, I waited to see if he did. I'm not even quite sure what it was about him I liked so much. He is the master of mixed signals - always unsure, forever confused and never certain about anything. If you're indecisive, or better yet, want more than one thing at a time, he's your man. He is like the guru of all things ambiguous, so if you have an appetite for guessing games, you'd totally adore David. Yep. David the ambiguous prick.

I guess you could say my "thing" with him (or for him, I should say) was some form of self-torture. For a minute there I began to wonder whether I was somehow enjoying chasing this numb nut around. I told my brothers about him too (in an effort to get some sort of guy insight) - and they nonchalantly reprimanded me for successfully proving two theories with this stupid quest: that girls really are complicated and that nice guys really do finish last. I still haven't figured out why the assholes always appeal to me when the last thing I need is a guy that will drive me up the wall. I always thought I was the kind of girl that knew what she was worth and the kind that wouldn't just settle for anything less than the best. I always told myself that I deserve to be genuinely adored and cared for. I don't need to participate in the "upper-hand game". Yet I somehow found myself in the middle of it, battling it out even though I knew deep down inside I was going to lose.

You may find this hard to believe after all the things I've just said, but I'm actually not angry at him. In fact, I'd like to go on the record and say that I don't blame him for how things turned out between us. After all, I had a choice in this - and it's just unfortunate that I didn't make a good one.  I knew that he was confused, not ready, and was light years younger than I was in terms of maturity level. I was well aware of his track record and was mindful of the fact that he and I were simply two very different people. It was my choice to ignore the signs; it was my decision to jam the square peg into that round hole. I guess I just needed to make the mistake and re-learn the same lesson I learned from a similar experience two years ago. I don't think the lesson stuck the first time.

Now I can finally say I did something extremely beneficial for myself. I'm making a conscious effort to let go and move on - two of the possibly most difficult things in life. After spending countless weeks weighing pros and cons and hoping against hope that David will somehow "change", I am officially done with it. I think I finally realized that I love myself too much to waste my time on some dude who has a penchant for young girls and foolish cycles. 

David, if you're reading this...good bye!

I Forgot About Me.

It took me three days to realize that I am beyond what I'm feeling. After some serious sulking, a couple screams into my fluffy brown pillow, and a chubby slice of banana cream pie, I began to feel a slight sense of relief. My problems didn't disappear, and I sure still haven't gotten my own way, but I did remember that somewhere inside me there's a tiny dose of strength - and that's enough to get me through this: the shittiest period in my life. I guess I've been battling all these things inside me, deciding between the things I want and can't have, and the things that I need that are much more practical for me. I'm stubborn and a little too hesitant. I'm stingy with giving chances even though clearly, it's not a bad idea to give it. For a minute there, I forgot the girl that grew up in Orange County, the one that was so strong and resilient, so confident and secure. I was starting to turn into the girl I used to be before I moved out for college - and I was hating every second of it. I realize now that I can't compete with the girls here --- simply because I'm not like them. I was letting things get the best of me, I was acting out of character.

I was beginning to forget the real me.

I haven't quite fully recovered from my slight lapse of character, but I can honestly say I feel much lighter than I ever did in three days. Now that I've had my moment of enlightenment, I can move towards getting better. I can't wait to be back in full force.

 

Buy me a drink, Jesse.

Surprisingly, this lifted my spirits today. Enjoy.

Pardon me, I'm ill.

I wish I had a different problem...but isn't that what they all say?

At this point, I don't know how to stay positive. I don't know how to see past what's happening in my life and think ahead to a brighter future. Everything seems so impossible. I am so miserable it's pathetic. And what's even worse is that the tears aren't coming! It's frustrating to be this sad and not be able to cry it out. Seriously, what is wrong with me?

I'm carrying the weight of the world and can't seem to shrug it off my back. 

Help Me...Now!

It is now the second week of October, and I've officially been on the job hunt for a month and a half. 

I've been distracting myself by going out and doing other things, but at the end of the day, I retreat to the harsh reality that I'm growing increasingly depressed inside. And it is honestly scaring the bejesus out of me. This whole waiting period is worse than I expected, and it feels like it's never going to end. I am so incredibly terrified that I can't say it enough - how do you deal with unemployment at 23?

I hate to be a downer, but somehow it seems like I'm the only going through this shitty period. I want to do all these things but can't; I want to chase all my dreams but have no idea how to get started. I hate it! There I said it. I hate it. I hate my life.

Maybe I'll write a book, or a screenplay. Or just write to Oprah. Ugh. Somebody help me.

Drunk and Chasing Pavements.

It's an amazing song by british artist Adele --- a song that I first heard as a cover done by someone else, actually. I grew to love it, and now I can't stop listening to it. I never really knew what it was exactly about the song that got me hooked so bad, but now I realize it... as cheesy as it sounds, the lyrics actually speak directly to my experience. And this experience, like many others, begins with a guy. Ugh.

Let's call him David. David and I have a bizarre thing going on - in fact, it is so bizarre I don't even have a name for it! I guess it's some sort of fascination with each other, because frankly, it isn't quite a legitimate attraction. I say this because David never really makes a move. EVER. He claims he's not ready, I say it's a bunch of horse shit. When a guy says that, it means he really doesn't like you. I mean, come on, what guy says he's not ready? And I mean, what the hell do you need to be ready for? The thing that bothers me most about David is that he likes to contradict himself a lot of the time. He asks me about the idea of dating (each other) and then goes right ahead and says he's scared to do it. Then why in god's name did you even bring it up, you jerk? I don't understand what the purpose of that was, but there was definitely no need to open up a box I wasn't trying to pry open in the first place. Additionally, he talks to me as much as he wants to and expects this "thing" we have to be some sort of friendship. Well, if you ask me, I think it's an even bigger pile of manure. I hate that he uses friendship as some sort of scapegoat, an excuse to keep doing whatever the hell it is he's doing. I hate all of this crap so much, but I find myself entangled in this situation every single time. Like this week, I avoided him for a couple days and somehow managed to succeed....until tonight, that is. We talked a lot while I was sloshed (not a great idea) and I was giving him the hardest time EVER. I hate myself for the things I end up doing BECAUSE of him, but the suckiest thing about it is I don't know how to stop it. I don't know how to NOT CARE.

I'm such an ass. I'm attracted to the jerkiest guy in the world - a guy, who, essentially doesn't give a rat's ass about me and I go ahead and diss the first guy that genuinely likes me. I'm a mess, I'm complicating things when I don't even have to, and I'm tipsily blogging at 245am. Tell me, reader.... "Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing pavements? Even if it leads NOWHERE?....." 

Give me your answer. PLEASE.

Addicted.

I've been watching this over, and over, and OVER again. Enjoy.

Frankly?

Dating is nauseating. It really is.

It's hard enough to put your expectations on hold and keep an open mind especially if you're meeting somebody for the first time. You can't help but wonder how the whole thing is gonna go, and you try to prepare yourself for the worst, even though you're half hoping that the date won't turn out to be a disaster. Here's the lowdown on DATE WEEK 1.

B1. made BAD moves.

Boy wonder "forgot" to pay for dinner. Is stiffing the check supposed to turn me on?

B2. made NO moves.

*vital 411: this is not a first date. It is one of MANY. Ugh.

The attraction is there, but let's just stare each other in the face. For TWO years.

(frankly I don't know why this one's still on the list)

B3. made TOO MANY moves.

Three phone calls, four text messages -- all the day AFTER. You've got to be kidding me.

Okay, so I wasn't expecting to find true love the first week. But good mother of god, could I have at least had a decent date? Apparently that's too much to ask for these days. Of course in retrospect, I'm not ruling out the possibility that I may have something to do with these three amusing experiences. However, for the purpose of this blog I WILL rule out that possibility. I am not in any way trying to say that things should have gone perfectly, because obviously "perfect" doesn't exist. All I'm saying is...I would have appreciated someone who was "just right." Anyway, it's only the first week. We'll see how things pan out.

If by any chance, you, my reader are one of the three described above, please don't cry in the shower. It's not the end of the world.

Irritated and Inspired.

Pissed off and unable to sleep, I lay in my bed, staring at the very tip of my sheer canopy. There were too many thoughts running in my mind, too many things entering and leaving my brain at the same time - and I was just about ready to scream. "Don't you just wish you could make other people feel the way you want them to feel?," I muttered softly to myself, running my fingers through the gossamer fabric of my canopy. But as soon as I said that, I immediately realized that if everything worked out that way, then love wouldn't be as special as we make it out to be. In fact, if things really happened that way - where people can force each other how to feel, how to act, and what to do, then love wouldn't exist. The magic of love lies in the fact that it is the result of a conscious decision, not a mere by-product of emotion. That's why to love and be loved are two of the most amazing things in the world - because both involve a willful desire to commit to the responsibility of caring for someone in an indescribable level. 

I'm currently inspired but still incredibly upset. In fact, I am so upset that I can feel my chest throbbing, on top of which, I am wide awake at 130am, which is making me even more upset. At this point, the only thing I can do is crawl back to bed and wait until I somehow magically fall asleep. I'm hoping it happens soon, because being irritated and inspired at the same time is tremendously exhausting.  

Fully Annoyed.

I am super full it is so not funny. I definitely went all out at The Melting Pot today for my sissy Jackie's birthday. It was a fondue extravaganza, especially the dessert! It was beyond amazing. I highly recommend that place for the dessert alone. However, come prepared with your wallet. It's definitely not cheap. 

On another note, I've been doing some thinking and I think it's time for a more drastic change. My most recent one was my haircut, so now I don't know what form that change will come in. Maybe I could move soon or something - but that takes a lot of preparation, and I have only been home for about two weeks, so it would just be insane to up and leave already. Too soon, too soon. I was thinking maybe I could try a new sport or take up something new, but I seriously have no idea how to go about it without spending too much. All I know is that I'm ready for something new to happen but I just don't know what that is. Peculiar, right?

Aside from my intensified cravings for change, I've also been pretty annoyed lately. I mean, generally I like to think that I'm a pretty happy person but I swear to Bob and his family, some of this week's events really got on my nerves. I won't go into any specifics - let's just say that it is incredibly exasperating how some people just don't understand the meaning of consideration. I was super nice enough to be willing to give up certain things just to make something work, but apparently, that doesn't seem like an appealing enough idea. I've said my peace, done my part and have tried to reach out. Sorry I'm not willing to bend over backwards. I'm not a contortionist. It's all so simple, if you want to make it work, it can. Take it or leave it.

Now I'm pissed and full - not a very fantastic combination. Maybe I can start going to a shooting range, that could just be the change I'm looking for.

Fairy tales and Friendships.

Doing the right thing is not only the hardest thing to do, but is, more importantly, the most annoying thing to do. It's annoying because you don't want to do it, but you know you have to. Despite the fact that it is rewarding and very liberating, we often tend to think about the downsides to doing the right thing - how it's going to affect us, how it's going to force us to change the way we think or feel, and how it's going to essentially suck. We feel this way because we relate doing good with losing, which of course, sounds silly, but is actually true. Of course at first, we don't realize that in doing the wrong thing we'd actually be losing more. If we were to ignore these conscientious thoughts and do whatever it is we'd rather do, it wouldn't be good for us in the long run. It's like eating cupcakes instead of skipping it. The cupcakes are good and definitely irresistible, but it wouldn't really contribute to our well-being because it'll turn into a bad habit, which would then turn into fat. You get the picture. Doing the right thing is tough, but no one ever said it was easy.

On another note, I recently saw When Harry Met Sally which is one of my favorite romantic films of all time. That movie always gets me thinking about men and women and the possibility or the impossibility of fostering a platonic friendship. Harry says it's not possible because attraction gets in the way. I think it's true. I asked my little brother what he thought and he said, "Yeah men and women can be friends...if the guy is gay." Great answer - which was just what I needed. The film poses that question, "Can men and women really be friends?" but the answer lies within the film itself! If you haven't seen it, I suggest you do so you can conjure up an opinion of your own. All I can say is, we all know what a real friendship looks like. And it definitely does not involve attraction of any kind.

In retrospect, I have come to the realization that I want something more out of life --- in terms of dreams, goals, plans, and relationships. If I'm going to dare to dream big then I might as well go all out. I'm not going to settle for anything less than the best. After all, as Sally said in the film, "I am not a consolation prize." I know what I want, and recognize what I deserve...and "I want the fairy tale." (Julia Roberts, Pretty Woman)

And a fairy tale I shall get.

Candid.

I want to fall in love the old-fashioned way. I want to experience love the way Nat King Cole described it in the song, That's All. I'd like a walk in the park, a stroll on the beach, or better yet, a meeting at the top of the Empire State building. I want to experience time standing still - a moment where I can feel nervous and delighted at the same time. I want my stomach filled with butterflies that I can't eat, sleep or even think. I want spontaneous slow dances, comfortable conversations, and enchanting embraces. I want to hold hands and kiss in the rain. I want the seemingly impossible kind of love - the kind that only exists in celluloid. 

In other words, I want to fall in love in a movie. 

*Just watched: An Affair To Remember, Leo McCarey, 1957

*Listening to: Stardust, Nat King Cole

Sadness.

Once I hear his threatening coughs, I get a horrible feeling in my stomach. It's one of those days.

The Beatles' number 1 album is blasting aggravatingly in the tiny living room; his legs, sprawled out on the couch; his mouth wide open; his face, revealing a hint of red in his eyes. He clears his throat annoyingly every two or three minutes, accompanying it with a loud belch or a mutter of a curse word. It smells like human flesh soaked in alcohol. He looks pathetic, helpless, and stupid - but you feel more pity for him than disdain. You wonder how a grown man in his early 50s can act worse than a rebellious teenager. He is the epitome of failure, a stagnant person who seemed to have given up on life and on himself. 

There have been countless times in my life when I imagined a world without him. As a young child, I remember envisioning his absence; surprised that I felt a deep sense of comfort every time I erased him from my memory. I wondered how different my life would’ve turned out if he hadn’t been around, if, for some reason, I had been born without ever knowing him. I felt guilty, feeling the way I felt – I didn’t know whether his actions could validate my stance. I was conflicted. Many people have said that trials, tribulations, and bad experiences are integral in shaping a person’s character. I just didn’t understand why my trial, my tribulation and my bad experience had to come in the form of my father. I was heartbroken.

I close my eyes, and wait for the tears to fall.

Real Love.

Real love is beautiful. It is not solely based on feelings of giddiness and overwhelming joy, but is founded upon a mutual decision of commitment. Each person willingly contributes a part of him or herself, expecting nothing in return. Real love is not playing the "upper hand game", nor is a comparison of efforts - it is, rather simply, the product of two playing together in the same game: the game of life. It is secure, it doesn't falter. Real love provides no hesitations and inspires you to take risks. It is open to possibilities, welcoming to change, and is stable under any circumstance. However, it is not perfect - in fact, it makes many mistakes; sometimes over, and over, and over again. But the thing about real love is that it thrives on its faults and utilizes them to its advantage. Mistakes are accepted but not dwelled upon; they are learned from and then forgotten. Real love is not having to feel obligated to do anything: it is liberating, not limiting. Real love means making room for dreams, and the pursuit of these. It inspires and motivates. It pushes and encourages, but it never uses force. Real love is gentle and tough at the same time. It is honest, open, requited. It is active and amenable. Real love can be seen, felt, and heard. Real love can be real, when two people decide to make it. It never questions, but rather, always accepts. The beauty of real love is that it can exist even in the ugliest places; it is, above all, visible magic, tangible truth, and a discernible dream. 

I can only wish that everyone find real love in their lifetimes. <3

Pep Talk to Self.

I know it's still September, but three months from now, the year 2008 will be in the past. 

People say it all the time, but it really is funny how time flies. I still feel like we just rung in 2008, but now, summer's over and fall is about to start - and my life is definitely much different now than ever before. Aside from turning a year older last August, I finally finished my undergraduate studies, got my degree, and am now living back home with Mom and Dad. I guess I could say that some of my dreams came true - I finished school in time, with good grades and even better memories; and I came back home with a different perspective on life and my future. I learned how to communicate in a new language, am well-versed in film theory, and found out a lot of things about myself that I never knew before. I not only developed a better sense of self but also better study habits, something that I definitely did not expect to gain this past year. 

Thanks to my fulfilling undergraduate experience, I feel much better now about staring life's challenges in the face. I learned that I can do anything if I really put my heart and mind to it - because I actually put that mantra to the test. Trying my best in school, in relationships, and in improving myself as an individual really do pay off in the end. I have never felt more motivated and inspired in my life. Despite being currently unemployed, broke, and at times, morbidly bored at home, I somehow feel a little tingle inside me - a sign that I look forward to a better, seemingly brighter future. At this point in my life, I can't be anything but thankful, for everything that's gone my way thus far. The positives are definitely outweighing the negatives. I'm pursuing what I love - something that, in the long run, will have the biggest pay off for me, which is why I don't mind sacrificing for now and just trying to do whatever I can to get by. My eyes are so set on my goals for 2009 - and some may think I'm crazy, but I believe anything is possible. I will live in France. I will go to grad school. I will write a screenplay that will be made into a film, be able to attend the Oscars, and be able to look back at this moment in time when all I had were eyes full of hope. I know I'm insane, but if I wasn't, I don't think I'd be as motivated as I am now. 

I spend more than half my days dreaming, and I could care less if people say there's something wrong with keeping my head in the clouds. With all the ugliness that surrounds the world we live in, the only way I know I can survive and keep smiling is if I kept my head held high. I will hold on to every ounce of hope and faith - because right now, that's about the only thing I can control. I can't force things to fall into place for me, but what I can do is believe that it is possible. Call me crazy - but I'm just a girl with big dreams. Enormous, unhinged dreams.

 

Unpleasant blurbs.

Today I woke up knowing I had no plans. Loneliness sunk in. It was my first official day as an unemployed, college graduate with nothing in her possession but dreams. I felt like crying.

I started to question the possibilities of my dreams, which was definitely not helping the situation. Then I began to dwell on the what ifs, and I felt even worse. I am certainly not having the best day of my life. I wish I could just do the things I planned on doing already - but sadly, those things take time. And right now is not the time to do them. I have to wait...but waiting makes me anxious, doubtful, and impatient. I hate waiting. This entry isn't even coherent anymore. I'm just blabbing.

Maybe I'll go read some french fables, to keep my mind off things. 

Hypothetical love.

It's funny how attraction works in strange and bizarre ways. Ideally, the person you are attracted to should be everything you want them to be and more. Yet, most of the time, they are the complete opposite - they hate everything you love and you love everything they hate (well, at least almost everything). There is no explanation for this - somehow there is something in that person you still find endearing, despite the fact that your moral compasses diverge. Of course the best thing to do when this happens is to avoid the situation completely - I mean, what's the use of pushing a square peg into a round hole, right? But the attraction is strong (you wish it was fleeting), and your heart starts tugging wildly at your brain, begging it to reconsider the option. Your brain rolls its eyes and heaves a heavy sigh, obliging to the heart. The next thing you know, you're in for the ride you know was a bad idea to take, but you sit back and relax anyway, relishing it while it lasts.

 

Popcorn, Swimming, Etc.

I've been having intense cravings for popcorn these past few days, so yesterday I walked to the local grocery store and picked up a six-pack box. As soon as I got home, I popped a bag in the microwave and stared at it for almost 3 minutes... it was the longest 3 minutes of my life.

Aside from indulging in my favorite snack, I also threw a few hours away watching Seasons 1-2 of THE OFFICE, which is totally my recent addiction (and by recent, I mean Spring Quarter thanks to Jenny). I had seen all of Season 4 during the last few weeks of Spring Qtr. on nbc.com and have been intending on catching myself up with the other three seasons, but it never happened. Two days ago a friend gave me a link to this site that had all three seasons streaming from random asian websites - needless to say, I was set for the week. I was so stoked to watch it that while I was talking to my friend I had already started watching the pilot.

Summer Session II has been going well for me so far and I've been swimming laps at the complex's pool. I love going there because when I usually go, there's no one else around and I have the pool to myself - which means I get to do my 60 laps without having to worry about making space for someone else. However, it doesn't mean that I am against people swimming along with me - after all, it is the people's pool, so I am more than willing to share it if needed. It's just such a bonus having all that space in the water to yourself. Today, I did 100 laps! I thought I was going to faint but I actually felt really good afterwards. I'm also really tan, and I am totally taking advantage of this weather since I know I'm not gonna have the luxury of the sun for too long. I was pretty shocked today after realizing we only have about two more weeks to go! Mother. I felt like I just got here.

I'm not gonna lie, my french class right now is hard - not impossible-hard, but really challenging-hard. Our instructor Laura is amazing, she's funny and very accommodating (which is totally important in a language class) and is very sympathetic with us because she knows how difficult our material is. This week we're tackling the conditional tense, which I will not even attempt to explain in English because I just started understanding it better in French. All I can say is, this week's material has forced me to imagine myself in bizarre situations...let's just.. leave it at that.

I haven't been running recently, and I think it's due in large part because my running buddy and I aren't doing it together and it just feels so weird running alone - even though technically I'm supposed to do it anyway. Which is why I've been swimming laps these days...I get a pretty even tan while burning those popcorn calories off. It's a win-win situation for me so I'm giving my running shoes a break. Besides, two more weeks and I'm off running 30 miles a week again! I'm gonna stick to swimming for now.

James Blake, You Are My Hero.

Wide-awake, and surprisingly alert, I sit on my bed and stare at my computer. It is 4:51am. 

I had stayed up all night watching the only actual athlete (besides David Robinson) that I extremely adore, battling it out on the tennis courts in Beijing. His name? James Blake.

I came to know about him through his autobiographical book, Breaking Back: How I Lost Everything and Won Back My Life, --- an excellent, poignant literary gem that is sincerely inspirational. It helped me get to know who he was outside of tennis, as he talked about his life and his tragic experiences in 2004, when he seriously injured himself and lost his father. Smart, charming and endearing, I hopped on the J-Block bandwagon. He became a new reason for me to watch tennis.

I didn't find out that he was part of the US Olympic Tennis Team until a few days ago, so I quickly looked up his standings and saw that he had amazingly beat the world's long-time number one tennis player, Roger Federer, in the quarterfinals. James lost to this guy every single time he played him in the past - so this was some serious business. I watched the Federer and Blake match knowing how it would end; and I still felt the same thrill as I saw Blake score against the Fed. It was beyond amazing.

So there I was, craving for some more Blake action. I wanted to see what he was up to next, and lo and behold, his match against Athens Bronze Medalist from Chilé, Fernando Gonzalez, was streaming live. I did not even think twice. I watched this semifinal match anxiously and nervously. I felt like my heart was beating four times faster than usual (then again, it could just be my hyperthyroidism acting up), but I seriously could not keep still. James was playing his heart out - and so was Fernando. It was insane. They each kept catching up to each other, playing a sort of cat and mouse chase for almost three hours. It was so nerve-wracking I thought I was going to pee my pants, sweat to death, and faint. I had never felt such intense emotions over a live, web-streamed olympic tennis match before. I wanted James to win so bad because winning that game meant that he would immediately be guaranteed an olympic medal. And I know damn well that he deserves gold more than anyone.

The match ended the way it was meant to --- in favor of avocado-addict Fernando G. I was so pissed off you don't even know. Actually, it was a mixture of disappointment, hurt (I know, right?) and pissy-ness. I was upset. James' chances at winning gold were over. But the good news is, he's still in the running for medal contention as he is set to face off with some other tennis dude for the Bronze medal. Definitely not gold, but still better than nothing. 

So now, it is freakin' 5:20am and I'm going to hit the hay with sadness in my mind. I feel so much for James Blake because I know how hard he's worked, how much he's gone through over the years (inside and outside of his tennis career), and how amazing he is at the sport. When he lost, I felt like I lost too. How sad is that!? I'm hoping he wins the bronze --- otherwise, I'm gonna march my little butt to Beijing and complain. Or not.

To James,

You are an amazing athlete and an even more amazing person. Keep kicking butt!

PS.

At least you get bragging rights for beating Roger Rabbit! =]

Woohoo!!

Normal day, normal musings.

I tried to weigh myself at the gym earlier, but it was one of those scales that are usually found in medical clinics and hospitals, and I could not, for the life of me, get the metal bar to stabilize in the center. I moved the small metal marker up  and down the numbers to see if the stupid bar would finally stay in the middle of the space, but it seems as though only nurses or medical assistants know how to work that damn contraption. As a result, I never found out how much I weighed -- and it looks like it will remain a mystery until I get back home to step on the digital scale. Why couldn't the gym have a digital scale instead?

On the other hand, I've been having fun in my french class even though it's a whole gunk of work. The weather in Orange County is amazing too, so I'm really glad that I get to work on my tan while I'm here. I also got to hang out with a few good friends over the weekend, which was totally awesome. I thought I was gonna rot here all by my lonesome. Then again it's only six weeks (well, five now actually) so it's not so bad to begin with. It's just harder when you're not quite as busy.

I really want to move out here within the next couple months, but that seems like a really far-fetched idea right now. It's so hard to find a job and a place, so I don't really know how that would work even if I tried to do it. I guess I'll have to cross the bridge when I get there, and stick to my plans for now. There's no rush anyway. It's not like I'm 45 and a bum.

I'm starting to feel really sticky so I should hit the shower. And do some laundry. AND get started on homework. Ah, what a day this is turning out to be.

joyeux anniversaire à moi!!

Ce que je veux pour mon anniversaire est...

...un petit gâteau géant. =]

I dreamt I was an Emperor Penguin..while I got my teeth cleaned.

My mouth was dripping with drool as I sat apprehensively in the plastic-covered dentist chair. I was staring at the lamp shining directly above me, trying desperately to distract myself from the excruciating pain I was feeling from Dr. T's deadly gum probing. As she drilled her way into the crevices of my teeth and reminded me nicely to "not forget about the back of my mouth when brushing", I started thinking about Emperor penguins and began feeling a bit jealous that in the entire span of their lives, they never have to be subjected to the kind of agony I was experiencing at that moment. Sure, they have to put up with the harshest, crappiest weather (we're talking blizzards), are forced to walk (or should I say waddle) miles and miles for DAYS just to get food, AND must protect themselves (as well as their chicks) from ugly predators like the leopard seal (who could definitely use some dental work) - yet I still feel like they have it somewhat easier than we do. They don't have to worry about cavities nor periodontal disease nor what have you; all that matters to them is the survival of their own colony.

My mind has been fixated on these regal creatures since yesterday afternoon, when I started watching March of the Penguins. I was ultimately astounded by the many things they had to go through just to survive, the love stories that came anew each year as they found their one true mate for the season, and the journey they embarked on together, snowstorm, after snowstorm, after snowstorm. But what impresses me most about them is the simplicity of their lives. Their whole being revolves around survival and the special, innate concern they have for their offspring. Within their colony there is no status quo to uphold - there are no rich penguins that drive range rovers, nor celebrity birds that are stalked daily by paparazzi penguins. There is no cosmetic surgery to alter beaks to the perfect size and shape, and there is no need for diets, trainers nor exercise machines. In their world, alcohol, drugs, and smoking do not exist; there is no need for rehab or AA. There are no thoughts of war nor diplomatic relations; there is not an ounce of imperialism nor a sign of capitalism anywhere in their colony. They never have to doubt their capabilities as penguins - they just do as they have done for the past thousand years. They don't get depressed, and for that matter, don't see shrinks, nor have any need for anti-depressants and caffeine. They are confident in themselves, and believe that even through the harshest winters, they have a chance of survival. Their parenting skills are top-notch that they ought to be the envy of every parent on this planet. They don't have to worry about debts, loans and mortgages; they don't have credit cards nor shopping malls - just ice walls and a vast oceanic playground. They're not lazy, either - they march for days on end without complaining, despite hunger and exhaustion. As I sat on that plastic-covered dental chair, hypnotized by my own imagination, I came to the obvious realization that life as an emperor penguin seemed cooler than life as a human being (no pun intended). But as my mother would say, "be careful what you wish for."

It's not that I want to magically transform into a penguin, nor move to Antarctica any time soon. I was just oddly intrigued by these funny-looking birds in chubby tuxedo suits, waddling about and gliding on their fat bellies. Somehow, they inspired me to appreciate life and all it has to offer - whether it be good or bad. Emperor penguins have a regal way of showing how much they truly value life - putting us humans (who seem to have a knack for inflicting pain on each other) to shame. While we do horrible things to our own kind, there are creatures like the Emperor penguins, who, even at the very bottom of the Earth, are able to teach us how to live beautifully, gracefully, and SIMPLY. My superficial worries fade in comparison to the penguin's annual tribulations. It dawned on me that my life - my human existence, is actually a bit selfish. Previously empowered by thoughts of individual achievement and personal success, I realize that life does not just revolve around me, nor any other human individual alone. The emperor penguins have taught me to think about the earth and its inhabitants as a whole - and that life, just as it should be, is ultimately about caring for the well-being of every single living thing on the planet.

Talk about a profound reflection on a dental chair.

Invisible haircut.

I got a haircut, but my hair doesn't look any different. I've been running everyday for a month, but I still look like marshmallow man's sister. The whole running thing? I get. I get that it takes a while to see any drastic changes especially since I opted for the healthy way (one pound a week). But the haircut had no excuse whatsoever. I paid good money ($30) to get some wild layers, and instead ended up with a really tame head. I wanted to say something to the lady cutter, but before I opened my mouth she had already snipped her way to the end of my haircut. She brought out the mirror and started showing me the back of my head. I stared for a while to see what had changed (or what might possibly appear, like a hidden image, similar to the ones you can find in those 3D paintings) - and I swear I saw nothing. It was like I had gotten an invisible haircut. I started wondering whether it was because I told her specifically NOT to give me a trim. I guess I should've told her to go wild. I may have suppressed her creativity.

See the problem is, I never really learned how to confront hairstylists. Somehow they intimidate me with their hair knowledge and cutting expertise that I feel unworthy to complain. I also feared that if I correct them or reprimand them for doing my hair injustice, they might start attacking me with their sharp instruments and burn me with their flat irons. Besides, I'm not confrontational anyway. So I usually just take my unwanted hairstyle home and complain to my mother instead. I'd rather listen to her yell than risk my life fighting for the haircut I didn't get.

Of course, a lot of this haircut unhappiness might actually be due to the fact that the whole fiasco cost me a measly $30. Was it too much to expect a great cut for that price? Maybe. But I'd like to think otherwise. I guess next time I'll complain...only after making sure the stylist isn't holding on to anything sharp - or hot.

I want...

among a billion other things... a DVD copy of: Dreams on Spec for my birthday. 

When I grow up, I want to be like... Nora Ephron.

I spent all of yesterday watching Sleepless in Seattle, You've Got Mail, and While You Were Sleeping. I was in a 90s rom-com mood so I watched all three in a row, crying and laughing and falling in love with the movies. 

A legitimate excuse for such behavior (if I were to make one) would be that I was doing some research for a major screenplay rewrite. I did need some inspiration, and I'm happy to say that watching those films helped me gain some insight on what makes certain stories work and why. So it's kind of a plus that I watched those films; I got to satisfy my nostalgic cravings AND do some work. 

I am so amazed with Nora Ephron (writer and director of Sleepless and You've Got Mail) and her creativity - she really knows how to make audiences fall in love with her films. Her lines are so spot on and so...so unforgettable, that it makes the films even more special. Her films work because she has all these little details that make the whole picture, in a sense, magical. Like in Sleepless in Seattle, there is a scene in which Annie (Meg Ryan), wide awake in the wee hours of the morning, decides to peel a green apple in the kitchen. She takes this kitchen knife and starts peeling the apple in one, long, curly strip.  A few scenes later, when Jonah wakes up from a nightmare and Sam (Tom Hanks) rushes upstairs to comfort him, they talk about Maggie (Jonah's  deceased mother and Sam's late wife) and how she could peel an apple in one, long, curly strip. It was such a tiny little detail but it immediately connected Sam and Annie - even if they hadn't met each other yet! Ephron's stories are strong and structured - the log line of that film says it all: "What if someone you never met, someone you never saw, someone you never knew, was the only someone for you?" What if, indeed? Annie and Sam were meant for each other, and the whole film is spent figuring out how they both will find that out. I rooted for them and wanted them to get together so bad, that the last scene of the film made me cry like a baby. 

I must say, Nora Ephron is a genius.

Goodbye, blisters!

After two years of sucking up the pain from my too-tiny 6.5 nike shox, I finally upgraded to a running shoe so comfortable, it feels like I'm stepping on a fluffy bed of marshmallows.

These fabulous Nike Vomero 3s have cushioned my feet throughout the tough miles I ran this week. Soft, squishy and strong enough to support my ankles and cradle my feet, I couldn't have asked for a better graduation present. Now I don't have to worry about icky (and painful) blisters or sore feet.

Disclaimer: This is so not an ad... more like a random rant from a really satisfied consumer. 

I should...but maybe not today.

I should really be studying for the GREs. 

Before this summer started, I made a mental list of the things I would do in the summer to keep me occupied, of which included running, practicing my french, reading, WRITING, and studying for the GREs. So far, I've only been consistent with one thing: running. Everything else seems to be a lost cause. 

I tried practicing french when Tatie Rose sent us a package from France, and my mom needed a translator to figure out whether Gommage was a facial wash or a feminine wash. The chocolate was easy to figure out, and my two brothers lunged for the ones marked lait. I would've feasted on my favorite noir de noir by Cote d'Or, but that would've canceled out my running. So I stared at the mounds of chocolate and ate the tiny packet of roasted cashews instead.

Reading's a bust since I haven't picked a book to read. And the most writing I've ever done so far was on this blog, so my feature-length screenplay has yet to see the light of day.

That leaves me with studying for the GREs. I tried doing it the other day and was about to do the diagnostic test when I fell asleep. Darn. I was so close! I guess it wasn't such a fantastic idea to try and study after running 8 miles. Oh well.

Despite the disappointing turnout of my summer plans, I did accomplish something I hadn't planned on doing this summer, which is finish all 3 seasons of Arrested Development. That show is beyond amazing. I just wish I took my time and didn't watch it in haste. Now I'm left with crappy television...unless of course I study instead. 

Ehhh I think I'll study tomorrow. (Yeah, right.)

Water really does you good.

I finally embarked on my anti-chub journey and started working out again, with my running buddy Jackie. We've both packed on some unwanted pounds over the course of our senior year and have been looking forward to this summer's workouts since school ended for both of us. We started this week with a bang: on Monday we ran 4.5 miles around our local lake. Surprisingly, none of us collapsed or sprained anything, considering we hadn't worked out in so long. Then again it was probably because we were running at an injured snail's pace. But that doesn't matter. 

On Tuesday, we challenged ourselves by running AND swimming. We ran around the lake again, and put in our 4.5 miles for the day and then we drove to a local lap pool and swam about 22 laps. Holy cow were we tired! We were on a mission. There was no stopping us --- that is, until we got home and took long naps. We were exhausted.

Nonetheless, we pushed through for Wednesday and ran around the lake yet again. We were running faster than when we first started, so our blistered feet and inexperienced lungs were definitely hating us. It was not quite an easy run. Personally, my legs were just about ready to fall off. I was surprised I finished running the whole thing with all my limbs still intact. My blistered feet, though? Well that's another story.

Thursday... was hell. We decided we were probably pro enough to try this one trail Jackie and her buddies used to do in her running class. The Gate, which was a trail that basically leads to (you guessed it) a gate, may sound simple, but there's a catch. You have to run through a steep hill to get to it. I was a MESS! I was trudging along the hill for what seemed like forever, my lungs were pumping like there was no tomorrow, and my heart --- oh my poor heart was beating itself to death. I concluded that this trail was definitely another form of self-torture...but believe it or not, we finished. Miraculously, we felt fine afterwards, so we thought, why not go for the gold? We then proceeded to do some water aerobics at the local pool. 

Now we get to today --- which we started off by running laps around the local track. We were originally planning on running about 16 laps (which is generally about 4 miles), but we got interrupted by a class at the end of our 8th lap so we left and went home. But the day is not over yet --- later today we are going to run about 6 miles at this place by the marina. Hoorah! Here's to hoping I make it through that.

This week was definitely tough, but I have to admit, it feels pretty darn good to get back into working out again! It'll definitely be a challenge trying to lose all those pounds but I'm up for it. Aside from learning that consistency and persistence are both key in living healthy, I learned another thing in terms of effective weight loss: drink tons of water. I've heard many people say it to me before, but none of them ever explained why. Jackie found the answer in her Biochemistry book. According to it, water washes the fat cells away. AH! Now it all makes sense. At least now there is a logical explanation as to why it'd be good to drink gallons of water. Well, cheers to that!

*Photo courtesy of: Miox. My Water. My World. www.miox.com

*Biochemistry Book: Campbell

Life lessons from a plumber and a chubby dinosaur.

Persistence. That's what I've learned from playing Super Mario World.

My nifty little bro had gracefully hooked me up with an SNES engine that runs a variety of Super Mario games on my mac. That way, after checking my monster account, editing my resume and CV billions of times, browsing craigslist for random temp job openings, and watching almost every video available on youtube, I have the option of running my SNES engine to revisit my childhood and attempt to put a stop on King Koopa's regime. I get so into it that I don't notice how much time I spend searching for the "blue yoshi" and making Mario "fly". Of course, when the going gets tough, I tend to get discouraged. Like when I start hearing the threatening sound motif for the "dark stages" (babies of the 80s all know what that sounds like), or when I start entering the castle, or the abandoned ship filled with enraged ghost balls. When it comes to these levels I have the nifty little bro deal with it because he usually gets us through to the next stage. But then I've discovered that if I kept trying I could actually figure out a way to beat whatever level I find particularly difficult. I mean, that's essentially what video games are about --- trial and error. But when all I get is ERROR, I have to admit, I get pretty damn erratic.  It's funny how a menagerie of awkward-looking villains could actually drive me crazy. Especially those damn plants. 

Nonetheless, I play. As frustrated and agitated as I get, I continue to fight the fight with Mario and Yoshi, getting nothing but satisfaction from saving Princess Peach. Or a tiny bespeckled egg. I guess it's a fun way to practice persistence. That, or I'm really just a bored college graduate. I most definitely prefer the latter.

Freckles could teach us a thing or two.

When I wake up hungry I know it's a sign that my chubby battles are far from over. I haven't been feeling all that great lately, and I know it's important that I love myself first and foremost. In my effort to break the bonds of emo-ness, I found myself surfing youtube for some useful insight. I found my answer below:

When negativity bites you in the butt.

Being a recent graduate is quite peculiar. It's like going through puberty all over again; minus the awkward growth spurts.  You party and celebrate your liberation from the grips of educational institutions from which you have been constantly subjected to since you were like, three years old. Then you start the job-hunt, or move back home, or both, and all of a sudden, you question why on earth you partied and celebrated like a fool just a couple weeks back when all graduation really meant was the END to a great era called COLLEGE LIFE.  In debt, jobless, and surprisingly overcome with boredom, you wonder why you had looked forward to graduation in the first place. You're confused, lost, maybe even slightly depressed and possibly harboring some low self-esteem, and you ask yourself: will I ever land a job? Your dreams of becoming "who-you-want-to-be" are totally erased; and you begin entertaining thoughts of what could happen to you if you don't pay your student loan payments on time. The worst part of it all is that you feel that it is only happening to YOU.  

There was nothing my mother could say or do to convince me that I wasn't alone in this and that I had what it takes to jump start my career. She kept telling me that all I had to do was to stay positive - and here I was telling her a number of reasons why I just couldn't. Our conversation eventually turned sour; and ended with her hanging up on me. I managed to give her a headache by constantly reminding her that the odds were stacked against me and that there was nothing I could do about it. I was definitely lacking some positive juices today. Darn.

Lesson learned from a Mangy Muppet.

It's funny how life can either be one of two things: simple or complicated.

It all depends on how you look at it; if you think it's simple, then it is. But if you think that it's otherwise, then voilà --- it is what you see it as. The right attitude and mindset can definitely change the way you look at life, which totally explains why Oscar the Grouch never made it out of the garbage can.

Mother always tells me that half the battle is won when you have the right attitude. Well it seems that once again, momma's right (not a surprise). When things aren't going quite the way we want them to (which happens pretty darn often in life), it definitely is easier to throw a major BF™ than to overlook it and keep on smilin'. 'Cuz honestly, who wants to smile when you feel like life is murdering your dreams? It's times like those when we'd rather be (gulp) emo or just plain 'ol cranky than be positive and happy. We forget that happiness is not a disposition nor a feeling, but rather, a choice to be made. Turning the frown upside down is easier than we think. All we have to do is try.

* BF™: bitch fit, term coined in the film, White Chicks, 2004, Keenen Ivory Wayans.

It's a sign: I suck.

Today, I officially tore my grafted pink cactus, Norman, to pieces. Sadness galore.

He was shriveled up and had turned from a pretty pink into a nasty bruised-banana-brown, and I almost did not recognize him. He was a sorry sight. So I took him out of his misery and decapitated him, piece by piece, plucking the mini-cacti off like they were grapes. I placed his little pink cactus balls in a platter of mangled rotisserie-chicken (which had been mine and Stef's lunch leftovers) and dumped all the soil onto the container, turning it into Norman's makeshift coffin. Poor Norman. He saw too much sunlight and had been drowned to death by a nincompoopish owner: me.

I can't believe I managed to kill a succulent cactus - the one thing in this world that requires the least maintenance. When I purchased Norman I imagined us growing old together, or at least I imagined him lasting longer than my spring quarter. Poor guy, he couldn't even survive to see San Francisco. I guess he was never meant to travel. 

This means only one thing: if I can't take care of a cactus, I may not be able to take care of a dog. Dang it. And I really, really, wanted a chow chow. Guess I'm gonna have to learn from this. Goodbye Norman. :(

Norman in his hey-day.

Life after college.

It took five days of four-hour long visits to the swimming pool to finally get myself that California-girl tan. Problem is, I didn't just get tanned, I got burnt like a strip of bacon. Despite the extreme turnout of my sunbathing experience, I have to admit---I'm pretty psyched that my legs now match the color of the rest of my body.  So I don’t mind the crisp-bacon look, so long as my life-long battle with milky-white legs has finally come to an end.  My summer is definitely off to a great start. (Below is a nifty photo of me, beaming in all my tanned glory):

Since I graduated a week ago, I've been doing a whole bunch of NOTHING, which includes an unending cycle of: swimming, eating, drinking, and sleeping (repeat 5x). It is both weird and exciting getting up every morning and not having to think about going to class and doing homework. My mind-operated to-do list has slowed down its activity since I turned in my last undergraduate paper two weeks ago, and I must say it feels pretty good not having to think about deadlines one after another. My brain calendar went on auto-pilot as soon as summer hit, and I've been forgetting what day it was for the past week. What a mess! Not to mention, I haven't written a thing since school ended. No blogs, journals, nor emails. Not even a myspace message or a comment! For some insane reason, I just haven’t felt like writing. In fact, I didn't even want to do anything that came close to it. So I started to panic. I began to question myself: Was I still cut out to be a writer? Was I starting to figure out that writing was not for me? Was I *(gasp)* getting a permanent writer's block? I had to get answers, and I had to get them quick. So I started thinking to myself while I was out toasting and roasting in the sun --- and I came to a conclusion: maybe I was just exhausted. After all, I had just finished one of the hardest academic quarters of my life, and I had just written countless pages of fluff-less papers that I actually worked hard to complete. I needed a vacation. My brain needed to take a break from thinking analytically. I assured myself that I was still a writer, just going on cruise control for a week or two. Oddly enough, it calmed me down.

Now I'm off to packing and cleaning up since I'm moving back home with the parentals, which, believe it or not, is actually not a horrible thing. Besides getting to save money, I get to spend time with the family, which I definitely missed when I was away. It will still be a challenge, no doubt, but I'm still glad I have them to come home to.  I'm gonna have to get used to sharing my space again and re-instating my role as the bathroom cleaner; but for $0 of rent/mo., I can't complain. I'm a broke (yet tanned =] ) recent college graduate, and I've got dreams to chase. I'm going to have to suck it up and sacrifice for now.  Besides, it's harder to chase your dreams when you're homeless. And hungry.

Officially done.

I turned in my last undergraduate paper this morning at 730am... and now I'm done!! My brain is a bit drained so this post will be short compared to the other ones... So short that I will leave you with this video. It's an amazing rendition of Stevie Wonders' classic, "As".