He gave me a hard, piercing look, his eyes not leaving mine even as he took a long pull from his Stella Artois. I stared right back at him, daring him to say the wrong thing.
"Well for starters, you're 26."
Wrong, you're so wrong.
"And...you seem really put-together, prim, proper, a real sweetheart."
Still incorrect.
"But you seem to have this....evil side to you..."
"Evil? What do you mean by that?"
"You seem like you have been really repressed...not evil in the conventional sense...but some part of you has been suppressed and its dying to come out."
Ain't it the truth.
Later his friend, an older, grayer version of himself, imparted a bit of wisdom gleaned from his life of fifty-five years:
1. Hard Work- if you want it, don't think that you can take shortcuts.
2. Have a mentor- figure out what you want to do, then find someone older who can support you and guide you.
3. Marry someone who is your best friend and intellectual match-beauty can only go so far.
So there you go folks.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
I believe in the therapeutic effect of popping bubble wrap.
I believe in a glass of white wine at the end of a hard day.
I believe that I'm my own worst enemy.
I believe in moderate hedonism.
I believe in long, hazy days of doing nothing but drinking tea, surfing the internet, and reading a good book.
I try to believe in the good in people, despite multiple accounts of evidence to the contrary.
I believe in always being kind, courteous, and friendly.
I believe that I am not young enough to know everything.
I believe in long drives alone to places unknown.
I believe in massages and head scratches, my favorite.
I believe in the merits of cheese, bread, fresh produce, and Reese's peanut butter cups.
I believe in the balance of responsibility and spontaneity, the rational and the idealistic, reality and fantasy.
What do you believe in?
I believe in a glass of white wine at the end of a hard day.
I believe that I'm my own worst enemy.
I believe in moderate hedonism.
I believe in long, hazy days of doing nothing but drinking tea, surfing the internet, and reading a good book.
I try to believe in the good in people, despite multiple accounts of evidence to the contrary.
I believe in always being kind, courteous, and friendly.
I believe that I am not young enough to know everything.
I believe in long drives alone to places unknown.
I believe in massages and head scratches, my favorite.
I believe in the merits of cheese, bread, fresh produce, and Reese's peanut butter cups.
I believe in the balance of responsibility and spontaneity, the rational and the idealistic, reality and fantasy.
What do you believe in?
Monday, May 25, 2009
Who the fuck is Cary Grant?
What a topsy-turvy week. Being constantly on the move suits me. Barely sleeping, drinking too much, riding and singing in the car day and night and eating nothing but fried food made me feel more alive than I've felt in months being stuck in Los Angeles. I find nothing poetic about the crowded concrete jungle, congesting, suffocating crowds, and interminable traffic. Give me trees, mountains, sights I've never seen before and the endless road.
The wedding was a riot. I can't believe that I have finally gotten to that place where I WANT to be with my parents, to hang out with them and talk with them but despite familial drama, they have become my closest confidants. Kansas City was a town that I judged too harshly, a blind date who through careful persuasion, won me over. Fountains adorned with graceful, elegant statues marked every street corner which gave me a slight pang because it reminded me of Rome. The reception was a blur of martinis, tears, drunken adults, and little boys doing the worm on the dance floor. There was a "nice boy"...rather two "nice boys" who were competing for my attention which was flattering but nonetheless somewhat frustrating in that I just wanted to dance for the sake of dancing, not to attract hungry males.
I walked around Kansas City alone for awhile, absorbing and exploring the city. I underestimated the Midwest. This town is conspicuously charming.
This spontaneity and impulsiveness will have to end sooner or later. I have an interview tomorrow with Smith Barney for a position as a liaison for municipal bonds. As much as I know this position holds financial freedom, and the promise of exercising my strengths, I can't help feeling like I'm staring down the barrel of a gun.
This is the first day
of the rest of my life.
The wedding was a riot. I can't believe that I have finally gotten to that place where I WANT to be with my parents, to hang out with them and talk with them but despite familial drama, they have become my closest confidants. Kansas City was a town that I judged too harshly, a blind date who through careful persuasion, won me over. Fountains adorned with graceful, elegant statues marked every street corner which gave me a slight pang because it reminded me of Rome. The reception was a blur of martinis, tears, drunken adults, and little boys doing the worm on the dance floor. There was a "nice boy"...rather two "nice boys" who were competing for my attention which was flattering but nonetheless somewhat frustrating in that I just wanted to dance for the sake of dancing, not to attract hungry males.
I walked around Kansas City alone for awhile, absorbing and exploring the city. I underestimated the Midwest. This town is conspicuously charming.
This spontaneity and impulsiveness will have to end sooner or later. I have an interview tomorrow with Smith Barney for a position as a liaison for municipal bonds. As much as I know this position holds financial freedom, and the promise of exercising my strengths, I can't help feeling like I'm staring down the barrel of a gun.
This is the first day
of the rest of my life.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Things that would hit the spot right now:
-A turkey, brie, and avocado sandwich from Panini's
-To find that song that I listened to on the Zap2it channel at the gym an hour ago
-A one-way ticket to a foreign country in South America or Asia
-A response from Showtime Networks regarding my application for an internship
-A beautiful hike through Muir woods and/or a trip to Stinson Beach
-One of those amazing books that changes your life or your perceptions on society and the world
-A love (or lust) interest with whom I can make out for hours in his car overlooking a scenic background with some old Jimmy Eat World playing in the background
-To find that song that I listened to on the Zap2it channel at the gym an hour ago
-A one-way ticket to a foreign country in South America or Asia
-A response from Showtime Networks regarding my application for an internship
-A beautiful hike through Muir woods and/or a trip to Stinson Beach
-One of those amazing books that changes your life or your perceptions on society and the world
-A love (or lust) interest with whom I can make out for hours in his car overlooking a scenic background with some old Jimmy Eat World playing in the background
Monday, May 18, 2009
Just Because
The Archipelago Of Kisses
We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don't
grow on trees, like in the old days. So where
does one find love? When you're sixteen it's easy,
like being unleashed with a credit card
in a department store of kisses. There's the first kiss.
The sloppy kiss. The peck.
The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we
shouldn't be doing this kiss. The but your lips
taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss.
The I wish you'd quit smoking kiss.
The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad
sometimes kiss. The I know
your tongue like the back of my hand kiss. As you get
older, kisses become scarce. You'll be driving
home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road,
with its purple thumb out. If you
were younger, you'd pull over, slide open the mouth's
red door just to see how it fits. Oh where
does one find love? If you rub two glances, you get a smile.
Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling.
Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss.
Now what? Don't invite the kiss over
and answer the door in your underwear. It'll get suspicious
and stare at your toes. Don't water the kiss with whiskey.
It'll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters,
but in the morning it'll be ashamed and sneak out of
your body without saying good-bye,
and you'll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left
on the inside of your mouth. You must
nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it
illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest
and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a
special beach. Place it on the tongue's pillow,
then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath
a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C.
But one kiss levitates above all the others. The
intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss.
The I'll love you through a brick wall kiss.
Even when I'm dead, I'll swim through the Earth,
like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.
Jeffrey McDaniel
We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don't
grow on trees, like in the old days. So where
does one find love? When you're sixteen it's easy,
like being unleashed with a credit card
in a department store of kisses. There's the first kiss.
The sloppy kiss. The peck.
The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we
shouldn't be doing this kiss. The but your lips
taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss.
The I wish you'd quit smoking kiss.
The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad
sometimes kiss. The I know
your tongue like the back of my hand kiss. As you get
older, kisses become scarce. You'll be driving
home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road,
with its purple thumb out. If you
were younger, you'd pull over, slide open the mouth's
red door just to see how it fits. Oh where
does one find love? If you rub two glances, you get a smile.
Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling.
Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss.
Now what? Don't invite the kiss over
and answer the door in your underwear. It'll get suspicious
and stare at your toes. Don't water the kiss with whiskey.
It'll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters,
but in the morning it'll be ashamed and sneak out of
your body without saying good-bye,
and you'll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left
on the inside of your mouth. You must
nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it
illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest
and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a
special beach. Place it on the tongue's pillow,
then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath
a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C.
But one kiss levitates above all the others. The
intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss.
The I'll love you through a brick wall kiss.
Even when I'm dead, I'll swim through the Earth,
like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.
Jeffrey McDaniel
Friday, May 15, 2009
This is the same tired question that has perplexed thinkers for centuries yet it has been bouncing around in my head all day. I hear it all the time, especially from women
"If it's meant to be, it will be"
This statement I've heard applied to anything from relationships to a pair of shoes. The logic goes: If the universe is going to conspire to allow me to have the resources to buy that exact pair of shoes in that exact size then it is going to happen and no obstacle can obstruct it.
I constantly struggle with this preordained destiny versus self-determination argument constantly. On one hand, it is kind of comforting to know that things are meant to happen as they should, similar to being a passenger on a cruise to a particular destination. Fate ensures the believer faith in the process; the forces that be are assuring that you end up in the time and place that you are supposed to be. Now, I don't mean to evoke a worn out metaphor here but I would rather be the captain, consciously in charge of what direction I am going, steering the boat, if you will. Fate seems too passive.
Real Life Example:
One boring day at work, I am in the back eating an apple when I overhear the conversation between my co-worker and her customer. I hear rumblings about a television show with Nathan Fillion, who I know from Firefly because I have the entire IMDB website memorized. Sad but true. I poke out there and try to insert myself into the conversation. Minutes later, I discover that the woman, Liz, is a writer for a number of television shows most recently Castle, who starts the aforementioned Fillion, who by the way is dashingly handsome ala Harrison Ford. I tell her about my aspirations to join the industry and low and behold, I am having coffee with her this Sunday and she has already forwarded my resume to her agent for interest in an assistant position.
Now was destiny or my own strong will and lack of fear of butting into conversation at play here? Most would say a mix of both. Now not to be too acquiescent here but I'm just going to let the "universe", "forces", "God", or "fate" point me in the right direction for the next couple of weeks now. Since South Korea is looking pretty dim and I don't want to have to burden my parents with continuing to constantly support me, I think I need to become more self-sufficient now. But I am still holding onto wanting to travel and serve in other countries.
Seth used to do this a lot and I really like it. Here are some things I want to say to people but I will not post their names:
1. It's not that I don't think you are smart, driven, and have many qualities I would usually go for, but I'm not feeling it, not feeling that ZING you get when you know it's right.
2. Becoming closer with you this year has totally saved me in more ways than one. You are one of the kindest, most caring, and intelligent people I have met and you have been there for me through the darkest of times. I appreciate you.
3. I am proud of you for taking action instead of talking about it. You know you have been chipping away at me for years because of your own insecurities and now that you are FINALLY talking about it openly is giving me hope.
4. I like that I have this balance with you. Sometimes we can be really serious and get into some deep issues but we also have this goofy, ridiculous, silly chemistry with each other that lightens the load of some of the things we reveal to each other. You are a great friend.
That's it. Peace out!
"If it's meant to be, it will be"
This statement I've heard applied to anything from relationships to a pair of shoes. The logic goes: If the universe is going to conspire to allow me to have the resources to buy that exact pair of shoes in that exact size then it is going to happen and no obstacle can obstruct it.
I constantly struggle with this preordained destiny versus self-determination argument constantly. On one hand, it is kind of comforting to know that things are meant to happen as they should, similar to being a passenger on a cruise to a particular destination. Fate ensures the believer faith in the process; the forces that be are assuring that you end up in the time and place that you are supposed to be. Now, I don't mean to evoke a worn out metaphor here but I would rather be the captain, consciously in charge of what direction I am going, steering the boat, if you will. Fate seems too passive.
Real Life Example:
One boring day at work, I am in the back eating an apple when I overhear the conversation between my co-worker and her customer. I hear rumblings about a television show with Nathan Fillion, who I know from Firefly because I have the entire IMDB website memorized. Sad but true. I poke out there and try to insert myself into the conversation. Minutes later, I discover that the woman, Liz, is a writer for a number of television shows most recently Castle, who starts the aforementioned Fillion, who by the way is dashingly handsome ala Harrison Ford. I tell her about my aspirations to join the industry and low and behold, I am having coffee with her this Sunday and she has already forwarded my resume to her agent for interest in an assistant position.
Now was destiny or my own strong will and lack of fear of butting into conversation at play here? Most would say a mix of both. Now not to be too acquiescent here but I'm just going to let the "universe", "forces", "God", or "fate" point me in the right direction for the next couple of weeks now. Since South Korea is looking pretty dim and I don't want to have to burden my parents with continuing to constantly support me, I think I need to become more self-sufficient now. But I am still holding onto wanting to travel and serve in other countries.
Seth used to do this a lot and I really like it. Here are some things I want to say to people but I will not post their names:
1. It's not that I don't think you are smart, driven, and have many qualities I would usually go for, but I'm not feeling it, not feeling that ZING you get when you know it's right.
2. Becoming closer with you this year has totally saved me in more ways than one. You are one of the kindest, most caring, and intelligent people I have met and you have been there for me through the darkest of times. I appreciate you.
3. I am proud of you for taking action instead of talking about it. You know you have been chipping away at me for years because of your own insecurities and now that you are FINALLY talking about it openly is giving me hope.
4. I like that I have this balance with you. Sometimes we can be really serious and get into some deep issues but we also have this goofy, ridiculous, silly chemistry with each other that lightens the load of some of the things we reveal to each other. You are a great friend.
That's it. Peace out!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
I own myself
Being alone has its small pleasures.
Finishing books, stories, songs I've began but never had time to complete.
Reconnecting with old friends, establishing and gaining new ones.
Going to the grocery store and cooking myself a delicious dinner of steak, potatoes, and white wine, just for me.
Having afternoons free to go on hikes, bike rides, visit art museums, just EXPLORE, or just be a couch potato and play around on the internet.
I missed this part of myself. All these years since high school there's always been a ME and a HIM. I don't think I've ever been that girl who sacrifices her passions, friends, or semblance of a social life for the boy in her life, but I cannot negate that there have been sacrifices I have made. Now that there are no obstacles or personal commitments obligating me anywhere, I am free to finally go about accomplishing the grand ideas and dreams that have been floating around in my mind since I was little. All it takes is figuring out which dreams I want to pursue.
I know that I want to sing again. Needless to say, my last performance which was at Jon's funeral sapped me of both energy and passion. I don't know how to go about this anymore. I don't even know if I'm that talented compared to the multitudes of aspiring singers who are fumbling all over Los Angeles to achieve that same dream. I don't even know how badly I want it. All I know is that performing in some smoky jazz club once in awhile is my idea of nirvana.
I know my inner fat kid is taking over judging by my obsession with food and cooking. I always said that my dream job would be to travel the world and sample other culture's delicacies although after watching Bizarre Eats with that chubby bald guy, I'm not so sure I have the stomach for it. All I can say is that my preoccupation with this earthly pleasure of eating takes some of the focus off my constant thinking/analyzing of the world and interactions around me. Sometimes the bliss of biting into a great sandwich, the living in the moment of taste and texture, can surpass all.
I know I want to help others, while supporting myself comfortably. My desire for this is not motivated by some lofty need for altruism, but rather as a true enjoyment of making other people's day better. How do I reconcile these two aspirations? Sometimes I wish I could just fast forward through this awkward transitional phases and just get to where I am supposed to be. But struggle builds character I guess.
In any case, its a relief that I don't "belong" to someone else, or I am "theirs". I don't want to be a possession, a property or prize to be won. I want to be my own, myself.
Finishing books, stories, songs I've began but never had time to complete.
Reconnecting with old friends, establishing and gaining new ones.
Going to the grocery store and cooking myself a delicious dinner of steak, potatoes, and white wine, just for me.
Having afternoons free to go on hikes, bike rides, visit art museums, just EXPLORE, or just be a couch potato and play around on the internet.
I missed this part of myself. All these years since high school there's always been a ME and a HIM. I don't think I've ever been that girl who sacrifices her passions, friends, or semblance of a social life for the boy in her life, but I cannot negate that there have been sacrifices I have made. Now that there are no obstacles or personal commitments obligating me anywhere, I am free to finally go about accomplishing the grand ideas and dreams that have been floating around in my mind since I was little. All it takes is figuring out which dreams I want to pursue.
I know that I want to sing again. Needless to say, my last performance which was at Jon's funeral sapped me of both energy and passion. I don't know how to go about this anymore. I don't even know if I'm that talented compared to the multitudes of aspiring singers who are fumbling all over Los Angeles to achieve that same dream. I don't even know how badly I want it. All I know is that performing in some smoky jazz club once in awhile is my idea of nirvana.
I know my inner fat kid is taking over judging by my obsession with food and cooking. I always said that my dream job would be to travel the world and sample other culture's delicacies although after watching Bizarre Eats with that chubby bald guy, I'm not so sure I have the stomach for it. All I can say is that my preoccupation with this earthly pleasure of eating takes some of the focus off my constant thinking/analyzing of the world and interactions around me. Sometimes the bliss of biting into a great sandwich, the living in the moment of taste and texture, can surpass all.
I know I want to help others, while supporting myself comfortably. My desire for this is not motivated by some lofty need for altruism, but rather as a true enjoyment of making other people's day better. How do I reconcile these two aspirations? Sometimes I wish I could just fast forward through this awkward transitional phases and just get to where I am supposed to be. But struggle builds character I guess.
In any case, its a relief that I don't "belong" to someone else, or I am "theirs". I don't want to be a possession, a property or prize to be won. I want to be my own, myself.
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