Sitting at home alone on a Saturday, watching Battle Royale for the first time since I was sixteen and eating steak and potatoes. I think I've got a poem floating about somewhere in my noggin, and I should probably start on some reading for next week, or rather this past week, 'cause I'm so fucking behind.
WHAT A NIGHT.
P.S. I used to be soooo in love with Kiriyama, you know, the brilliant sociopath in the movie who lacks the ability to feel emotion and ends up killing half his classmates for the challenge in it. Clearly, my sixteen-year-old self had excellent taste in men, yikes.
1. JAPAN-OPHILES ARE SCARY. But also, I wanna watch some anime, real bad. Like... continue where I left off in Death Note, maybe? :/
2. I HATE YOU, HONORS THESIS. Why did we do this to ourselves? What were we thinking? ANSWER ME, ERICA D. (+ everyone else who's writing one).
3. I really want to reread "Seven Types of Ambiguity" by Eliot Perlman. It's so good! And goes so unrecognized. I don't really understand. Maybe we just don't appreciate Australian novelists enough.
4. I am sitting here stuffing crisp one dollah bills into red envelopes. I bought them last year, so the glue isn't working so wel, but I am quite enjoying the smell of the paper. I may be imagining it, but it's a little incense-y.
At least I skipped badminton today and missed out on Coach V's reign of terror! Instead, I redeemed my "pint for a pint" Baskin Robbin's coupon, yayyy.
Now to do more reading about compromised virtue, eat more Starbursts, stay alive, contemplate my honors thesis, etc...
Not gonna lie -- kinda can't wait until all my blood comes back.
I am at home, skipping class so I can nap and eat a full meal before I go to give blood. Why? I don't know -- I think I believe in giving blood every few months on principle. And I didn't donate last quarter, so I'm feeling that old Red Cross volunteer guilt.
Had a good conversation with my cousin recently about how we feel that as we're growing older, we're becoming better equipped to handle different people and their personalities. This doesn't necessarily mean that we know what the fuck we're doing yet, but at least we're beginning to feel like we have some sort of a grip on various situations. Good thing, because it seems as though we just encounter increasingly ridiculous personalities as we grow older. Or maybe we're just starting to recognize them. In any case, I'm glad that despite the fact that I never had a close sister (used to srsly depress me as a little girl), I have my cousins who basically serve the same purpose.
I miss them terribly and can't wait to see them all for New Year's! I desperately need home cooked meals and the scent of fireworks and dragon dancers and street-side gambling and sunny weather and all of those things that come with going to visit Grandma's. Mostly the fireworks. I haven't seen a good string of fireworks go off since my grandfather died. He used to purchase them illegally every year and set them off in our backyard at midnight. Our dogs would hide under the patio and whimper and my little brother would cover his ears and scream. I miss it, I miss it.
Ah, now I'm all chock-full of nostalgia. I've been so anxious and upset lately over things that are difficult to control. Unease, unexplained (and unprovoked) hostility I guess. For the first time, I'm trying to recall everything my mom taught me about serenity. I'm not very religious, and it always seemed kind of dumb, but I think it does help to just focus your attentions on an end goal and let everything you do reflect or further that goal. I mean, obviously my goal isn't "GET ME TO HEAVEN, PLZ", though it could be. But, you know, "Let me be calm and happy, and let me try to be a good person" seems like a reasonable one. When put in that context, all the little slights and details seem really frivolous and petty.
Also, my uber-Christian cousin (I don't know what happened -- she went to college and joined a Christian sorority) is always going on and on about how "blessed" we are. Though I don't agree with that word (as a burgeoning nonbeliever), I do feel like she's onto something there. WE ARE SO LUCKY. It's crazy when I think about the things I complain/stress about in comparison with what some of my family members went through. Did I ever lose my sons to Thai pirates? Was I ever forced into military service? Did I ever live at a refugee camp? Nope. I couldn't be luckier. So I'm just breathing and keeping that in mind (and in perspective).
In other news, I miss my piano more than EVAR. Not that I ever played it much, but usually when I'm home I spend at least an afternoon or two just tinkering around, relearning Chopin pieces and such. Recently though, school and job-hunting and all those other prospects have been hanging over my head and when I'm at home, I just lock myself up in a room and read all day. Or I watch movies with my brother. And listen to Taylor Swift. I'm kind of itching to spend a weekend at home with my mom, my piano, some chick flicks, and maybe a reread of "Seven Types of Ambiguity" by Elliot Perlman. I like how sprawling and sentimental that novel is.
ANYWAY, I've rambled on enough. I need to start putting things into my Google Calendar more consistently. I always forget when I'm supposed to be meeting with people/going to office hours, etc. It's getting to be a bit of an issue.
I'm going to shower and give blood now. Wish me luck! I'm kind of a pro at blood transfusions (both giving and receiving) so this should be fun.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Mistake of the night: researching cannibal serial killers like Albert Fish.
This letter that he sent to the mother of a little girl he murdered and ate is gonna give me nightmares FOREVER.
At least for this moment. I'm going to go back to my See's sucker and millions of papers now. Hello, library. We're going to become quite intimate this quarter.
This is a sloth bear. It looks real cute and goofy, BUT DO NOT BE FOOLED. It is actually super vicious and attacks people unprovoked.
From an article on today's Mental Floss blogs:
"The Indian Sloth Bear is a fairly small but very aggressive bear found exclusively on the Indian subcontinent. For unknown reasons, one bear attacked at least 36 people, killing 12. Some of his victims were partially eaten and had their faces ripped from their skulls. Those who survived didn’t fare much better, as they usually lost eyes and noses. Big game hunter Kenneth Anderson finally ended the bear’s rampage with a single shot to the chest."
BE CAREFUL. That's all I have to say today. Also, good luck on midterms/papers/whatever happens to be destroying your spirit this week. I know I'll need it.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
I'm such a sucker, nothing but a sucker for all that cheese and romance.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Wearing a miniskirt, listening to "Here Comes the Sun."
TALK ABOUT WISHFUL THINKING.
Quote of the day: "It's kind of fun watching you flounder." People are sick. Let me go back to my poems now. I'm still in poetry mode and not fiction mode. This will be a problem.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Well, this is ridiculous. But way more amusing than I thought it would be.
I'm happily coming up with lists of priorities and things to to. Mostly, I want train rides. And to see my mom and dad and brother.
No time for the petty details. Come to yo senses, people. I hope the cold wakes you the fuck up.
I don't know what to do, but I really need to buckle down and do some schoolwork. Too bad I'm too damn distracted and confused right now.
FUCK.
In other news, I'm going home this weekend! I can't wait. I need a breather and a nice long train ride on a cold winter morning. Maybe I'll even get more of my honors thesis done. Hah, wishful thinking!
I think I deserved it. Now I can pay even less attention to my appearance and just bury myself in geekery and giant sweaters. And then crawl to the library to die. YAY WINTER QUARTER 2010. ILU FOREVZZZ.
with my 21 units this quarter. I'm already swamped! I think I'm slowly losing my mind. Today I read the weather report and thought it said "a chance of cuddles" instead of "a chance of clouds." I want a chance of cuddles in the forecast, geez.
Just printed out 19 copies of my latest piece of fiction. On to a full day of 4 classes (all an hour and a half long).
I'm also listening to "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes on repeat. Like, as in 10 times this morning at least.
I'm double checking all my bags, dressing like a French woman (stripes and scarves and wool coats, OUI!), listening to the Beach Boys, aaaaaand buying tickets to SoCal for Vietnamese New Year's which happens to fall on Feb. 14 this year!
Looks like I'm gonna continue my trend of never being in Davis for V-Day. Sorry boys.
How is it that I went home to San Jose with a trash bag FULL of clothing and now I'm packing for Davis and I only have a small overnight bag? And I acquired at least a dozen new articles of clothing over my holiday break (hooray Christmas presents and various shopping excursions :D).
This is all very puzzling. I'm pretty sure everything's just in my drawers, passed over as, "Eh, I don't really want to wear this anymore but I'm not ready to throw it out either."
On that note... who wants to do a clothing swap soon? I have lots of things that I never wear anymore but don't have the heart to throw out.
