just captivating

late night ramblings

2010-03-06T00:10:00.000-08:00

i did it again, but this time it was late hours at a target, wandering through the aisles searching for a sense of purpose. i wouldn't call it an addiction, but strangely, almost with no conscious thought i found myself doing the same exact thing i did a week earlier. actually, almost anywhere they will sell books, i seem to gravitate towards those sections and scan the same tired titles looking for a gem. it seems to happen systematically, too, as i peek down each aisle until i get to the paperbacks.

i don't know why i keep doing it. perhaps, it's because i'm searching for a story to which i can connect and feel less of myself; if only, then, i wouldn't be so 'me' that is 'me' and just another somebody. you'll laugh, i know it. our society praises us for our uniqueness and individuality so much so that we must conform to this differentiation.

either way, i found the york peppermint patties that i was looking for. why do they sell such huge bags of candy? as if we needed it. i'll admit i was persuaded by the stupid commercial on tv - i wanted that minty taste; i wasn't about to go through hours of trouble to make my own, either. maybe when i'm old. perhaps what's so sad about this whole story, something you wouldn't even know unless i mentioned it, was that i went to target at 8:30pm on a friday night, and in pajama pants and flip flops. what's wrong with this, you might ask? well, nothing. i don't find anything wrong with it. but as a young college student, i'm made to feel as if my life is insignificant for these very reasons.

this is exactly why i don't date. i wouldn't know how to date. i'm clueless and oblivious to all those social cues and signs and innuendo. it's not that i'm dumb and unaware of it. i simply think past it; i don't see a reason for it. i'm an observant person, yet somehow i'm too focused. i pay attention to what i want to pay attention to, as well. but take it from people who think that the way things are done is how everyone else is doing things --- you'll get nowhere.

so, walking through the aisles at target, i fancied the thought of how strange it might be if someone in my position were to meet the man of her dreams in this way. i mean, television perpetuates the idea that you should go to a bar or a book store slash coffee house to meet your other half. it also gives glimpses at how life could be in chance meetings where oops! i ran into your shopping cart, please excuse me, and lets exchange witicisms and funny quips over shaving cream. it never happens.

and for the same reason, every book i encounter is also ruled out. fiction can't cut it anymore; there's only so much a girl can take of the same mishap with different characters. the creativity is in the location and target audience, so where is the literary genius in that? i may as well draw plots and characters out of a hat --- at least that might present some sort of challenge. who reads this stuff? i used to read it. now i've become jaded.

there was one book that caught my attention. it was filled with ways you can wake up happy. for every day, there was a small anecdote, a few instructions, and a daily inspirational quote or mantra. i found it intriguing except for the fact that i find most material like this a bunch of bullshit. it's just a crutch. i'm sure you can argue that this 'crutch' can help someone walk again (oh no i did not just use that metaphor!) but it's baloney. perhaps, some people just aren't as strong-willed as i tend to be, because if i was the 'author' of that 'book,' it'd be a minimalist guide with lots of blank pages for the reader to fill out. because honestly, when i wake up, i don't want to grab this stupid book and read it to make myself feel better. neither do i want to crack it open every time i depended on it's words to help remind me of what i should already know about myself. when i wake up, the first and only thing i want is to be thankful that i'm alive and able to perform service. i don't want to think about me, and i don't want to think about my feelings or how i just want to have an extra hour of sleep.

recently, i've been getting a little too much sleep. i don't like it, i really don't. but when i wake up at my usual early hour, i cringe at the time, and i go back and back to sleep. please don't wake me up. i'm comfortable --- and at least, while i'm in bed and it's 3am in my mind, i want to go back to sleep. is it really that much to ask that the world stopped, or that it went on without my participation? please excuse me from school, from life. just let me heal and i'll jump right back in when i'm done. i just need time. i'm sure that all my facebook friends are tired of me updating my status with the old 'i hate today.' i know i am, but i'm not a good liar.

oh, and i'm not suicidal. it's lines of justification like these that make me want to drill 10" screws through my head and give myself a frontal lobotomy. my references to sleep and life moving on without me is not some sad attempt at a cry for help or my depression. yes, i'm "depressed" but i do not have "depression." what would you do if someone in your life died? what would you do if you just couldn't take it anymore? buy a cupcake? we all take these curve balls differently.

i'd just love it if i could sleep regularly. you know, a 10pm-6:00am schedule. something routine. but here i find myself typing away at 1:46am and i've missed the sleep train by nearly four hours. i can't help it. it's hard to sleep knowing that when i wake up, i'll be miserable and hating the thought of getting up. at least now, i am up, and i won't have to face that disappointment.

i always imagined bliss before sleep as having someone who held me or my hand as we both drifted off. oh gosh, i see how pathetic and needy that sounded after i wrote it. i don't mean a nested or cocoon-like embrace, just the proximity or careless hand placed over me. i wouldn't mind fingers placed gently atop another, though. i don't know what it is about it. in a way, we extinguish our consciousness, our awareness of ourselves (or awareness in general), but still, i'm with you. just like i would go any where with you and i would follow you any place, we are still together even when we sleep. and when i wake up, i see that you're still there, though you may have repositioned yourself and i see nothing but the tufts of your hair, the soft rising and falling from your breaths, i knew you were with me all along. for this, i would give up every extra hour of sleep, every saturday morning sleep-in, every breakfast in bed and all the peace and quiet in the world just for this one very moment --- i would be blessed.

goodnight

random snaps

2010-03-05T17:16:00.000-08:00

random snaps

2010-03-04T20:35:00.000-08:00

black bean tacos

2010-03-04T14:01:00.000-08:00

i have been eating a lot of tacos lately. lunch and dinner: tacos, tacos, tacos. not only are they fabulously delicious, they're low in fat and constitute a good part of the protein i need in my diet. unfortunately, i can't just eat tacos. i'd like to just eat tacos, but it's unhealthy.

today, while taking my 365 picture, i got really upset at the pictures of myself. there's a line between obsessively worrying about one's weight and just being unhappy with one's body. i'm definitely not happy with the image i see in the mirror; i get so upset at what i see and i feel defeated.

i've stopped thinking about the number on the scale for a long time now, but now i feel like i need to really step up my game and do more activity. i've been using the excuse of taking 24 units every quarter as a reason to not be able to work out more, but it's ridiculous. i can spare 30 minutes per day just to do a little bit of activity. for the next month, i'd like to spend 30 minute each day doing something, whether it's my 30 day shred dvd, a light walk (outside of running to the bus stop or on campus), or lifting small weights and doing exercises.

i've woke up hating every single day these past two weeks and i'm tired of it. it's time for me to get my life back on track and regain that sense of control because otherwise, i'm going to wallow in my own pity, continue to eat out my feelings, and wind up having to face the damages from this. there's no reason i can't be sad, but i won't let the grief take over my life or my physical and mental health. i'm really going to do something about this.

easy to please

2010-03-03T20:22:00.000-08:00

when i first tried being vegetarian, i was still living at home in the bay area and it was hard to resist all the comfort foods that i was so accustomed to having. eating a vegetarian diet has definitely become much easier since i've moved out because i was held accountable for whether i had food to eat or not. it was also made easier because i was no longer around others that ate meat or those who were unsupportive of my choice. whenever the subject of my diet preferences comes up in conversations, immediately i get asked two things and they are 1) do i ever miss meat and the more standard 2) what does a vegetarian eat?

being a psychology major particularly interested in language and conceptual development, i always held my breath at the moment people arrange their lips to ask these questions, begging with my eyes no! no! don't ask me that ques --- sigh, alright. because honestly, chances are high that the ones who ask questions like these are the ones that think vegetarians just eat salads and don't get enough protein, or worse, they're all just a bunch of hippies (a comment courtesy of my mother). i encounter this quite often when i am asked about my major in college. it starts with the "what are you studying?" then it's me, poor little me, hesitant to answer "psychology ..." i can literally see the gears turning in their head, that slow mechanical halt as their eyes start to shine with enlightenment and they learn forward, keen on asking me the question --- "oh, psychology? can you read my mind?"

i would be a rich woman if i was paid each time i answered an overwhelming no!!! to that question.

but anyhow, the first question is easy. no, i do not miss meat. on 99% of the days, i hardly realize that my diet is completely devoid of animal flesh. i like it like that. recently, in my quest to find palatable food blogs, i found that the only ones that even had a shot at holding a spot in my bookmarks folder were ones that did not feature meat dish after meat dish after meat dish. i like reading about what other people are eating, and even if a certain recipe serves meat in the dish, there's no reason that i can't turn that dish into a veggie friendly one. but yeah --- after the 10th picture of bbqsauce slathered ribs and steaks, i can't deal anymore.

and second, to the million-dollar vegetarian question, i eat most things people eat sans meat. it's really that easy. most of the time, the recipe is that much healthier because you don't need to add all those ingredients that you need to make meat actually taste good. the hard thing is when you are going out to eat at a restaurant and you don't feel like eating pasta dishes because psh! you can make that at home. that's one reason why i prefer to stay in and cook (not to mention leftovers). i happen to really love eating vegetables and fruits, and the only big changes were in eating more of that and none of meat. it's so much easier when you don't purchase meat, you're cooking your own meals, and you feel 1000x better because of it.

it's hard for me to be motivated to make plenty of diverse dishes though, mainly because i end up making way too much food that one alone cannot handle (even after days of leftovers). it's disheartening to throw food away, especially when i am content with eating noodles and broccoli. also equally challenging is the fact that i am very much bound to the emotions that associations with food elicit --- the smell, the look, the thought of food is all that takes to get me to the grocery store and searching for recipe items on my iphone. i can't plan meals to save my life; it'll never stick. when i like something a whole lot, i'll eat it for days. i'll eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if i could (sigh, these days i have to fight myself not to do this). i mean, i can name the last "meals" i've had in the past two months because they've been so consistent: bean tacos, noodles with steamed broccoli/asparagus, fresh bakery french bread with slices of cheddar cheese, and cereal with almond milk (no joke, i ate this for nearly 2 weeks and loved it). of course, in between i've had slight variations in meals, but when i find something i really enjoy eating, i'll eat it until i'm blue in the face.

i'm attempting to break this habit of eating, not only because delicious chewy starchy french bread and hunks of cheddar cheese have been adding to my waistline, but because i'm not getting all the nutrients i need in my diet.

i dunno. i guess it should be easy. i love to eat. that's always a good place to start at.

random snaps

2010-03-03T20:04:00.001-08:00

random snaps

2010-03-02T23:16:00.001-08:00

fruit smoothie
2 bananas
2 kiwis
1/2 pint strawberries
1/2 cup almond milk
1/2 cup low-fat vanilla yogurt
= great breakfast.

at first sight

2010-03-02T10:29:00.000-08:00

i woke up hitting the imaginary snooze button repeatedly until i eventually had to face the day. today. i hate today. i said the same thing the past few days, and undoubtedly will say the same about these upcoming days.

this might be proof that human beings are irrational. i have the blessed opportunity to go to college and here i am, moping, and unable to focus or even look at my school work. i can't do it. at least not right now.

over the weekend, i did what any intelligent human being seeking knowledge does (... no, not surf the internet). i should revise myself and say what any old-fashioned intelligent human being seeking knowledge does --- i went to the library. there's something comforting about a book. it might be because of the belief that there is an answer somewhere on the pages. i guess i was desperate. it was hard to walk past the aisles of self-help books promising happiness, promising healthy families, promising love and peace --- i wasn't desperate enough to leaf through pages telling me how to be happy. as i searched for a couple of hours, it become apparent to me that what i was looking for a book that was happiness.

it's analogous to that extra pair of black strappy heels. it makes you feel good, it'd make you feel happy, and you buy them because you think that these gorgeous pair of comfortable fitting shoes are happiness.

but there's so much to get out of a good book. we learn the lessons vicariously through authors who may or may not have exaggerated their own private experiences, but at least we can relate. we don't feel so alone anymore. we leaf through pages of words and hope to find the sentences that feed our soul the peace that we seek, the solution to all the torment we are internally experiencing. it means different things to different people, but for me, there's a sense of passive empathy that is bidirectional.

and then, all of the sudden, i'm calm. i'm happy. i know that it's not an everlasting emotion, but unlike a pair of shoes, the feeling does not dissipate at the very moment they slide off my feet or taken out of sight. in my mind, i can carry those words of wisdom like little precious gems wherever i go.

and really, that's all i need right now. whatever it takes to get by.

random snaps

2010-03-01T20:47:00.000-08:00

sighs

2010-02-28T20:44:00.000-08:00

my grandfather passed away. it's been nearly four days and i still have no words.

people have asked me if we were close. i'm sure it's more of a measure with which to grasp how deep my grief and bereavement are, but i find it irrelevant. in any case, i should think that the loss of anyone is cause for mourning.

i don't want to face the world.

i would not say that my grandfather and i were "close". but again, it depends on what you want to define as "close" --- if one meant sharing inside jokes and long talks, then no, we were not close. but i am a first generation asian-american and my family holds on tight to their steadfast traditional values and beliefs. it is not only a mindset, but a lifestyle.

somehow, i still seem to think that every body, if not most people, live near and see their grandparents and family on a relatively frequent basis. growing up, my grandparents were always there. literally. back in the old country (i've never been able to say that, i just wanted to sneak that in there) ... households consisted of whole families together under one roof. there was no question about it. if a man were to marry, his wife moves in and becomes part of his household and there they would live with his parents and his brother's families. they would start their family like this, and this was how it was for me as a child. i grew up on a little farm in suburban california with my mom and dad, my brother, my grandparents and three uncles.

on the weekends, my mother would always drive us over to my other grandparents home. i can't even begin to describe what that was like for me, but i know that it is one of the main reasons why i long for a large family, despite all the drama that can come along with it. you just feel like you belong, without question.

it's hard to explain. my father's side of the family is somewhat distant, but it is your paternal grandparents that are most important to you because you "follow" your father's side of the family. there are distinctions made in the names you call everyone. but my mother's side of the family is a ball; there is always drama, but you loved it, because it gave everyone character. my father's side is a family of 8 children, and my mother's side is a family of 10. however, it's my mother's side that has most of the family located within (at most) a 30 minute drive from one another, and it's my mother's side that always had some family gathering, formal or not, and there was that feel that you can just 'drop by' for a chat just as you can have an excuse to be there. you were just family. no questions about it. it's my mother's side where i have nearly 50 cousins, too.

but it's different with my dad's family. two of my uncles never married, and my two aunts are either distant literally or figuratively. they're quiet and keep to themselves. those that do have children don't want to associate with each other because they have their own respective lives to attend to and that's fair, isn't it? but there's no sense of family. but my grandparents, they were always there. always. even when they moved out of our little farm, they were there or we were there (albeit less than occasionally). for twenty two years, they have been at every single chinese new year celebration in our household.

what i'm getting on with is that they held a constant place in my life. something that i think i was too attached to, but for good reasons. i mean, they are my grandparents, and they hold that one available position just like my parents do. what do i do? i know i have not 'lost' them, but they aren't there and that is what troubles me. life changes; it does not simply move on as it was before.

when my grandfather on my mother's side died, there was grief, but there was also support for one another. then, when my grandmother and uncle died (on the same side), it seems our family fell apart. there is no longer the same relative intimacy that was there before. they were like the strings that held us all apart, and when they passed, it was as if the knot was cut and we all fell into our own lives.

i don't know a whole lot about my grandfather. i don't know everything about his childhood, nor what he did back in vietnam or anything about his previous marriage; i don't know anything about his hobbies that he liked to do as a young man, what his job was, his favorite kind of dessert --- i don't know any of that.

but that's not what matters to me. he's my grandfather. and i miss him. sigh.

seriously? is this 2010?

2010-02-23T14:13:00.000-08:00

on my way to the geisel this afternoon, there was a crowd of people on library walk getting pumped and ready to march on the chancellor's complex. if it hasn't been picked up by the media enough, there has been a lot of commotion over the past few days about the event "compton cookout" put on by bored college students in honor of "black history month."

it makes me sick to know that there is still people like this, and my first impression was that this is the reality. it's the same as knowing that there are starving kids in the world, there is war and conflict, and there is hate and violence. it only hits home when it is close to home.

i've had waivering opinions about this whole things yes, i do agree that such a thing should not go unnoticed, however, it should not be a cause for unrealistic demands and cries for such dramatic action. among many of the demands made by groups banding together over this outrage, i find several to be a little "ridiculous" --- for lack of a better word. above it all, i feel the demands call for special treatment to minorities here, and not necessarily because of how they have all been treated as a whole by the university but because of what some immature college students think they can do while hiding behind the blanketed security of "freedom of speech."

let me explain. they demand a 'safe space' on campus while an african-american resource center is built ... i'm not necessarily opposed to such a center being constructed, but i feel that while there is a demand for an 'african-american resource center' --- why not one for asians? for latinos? for native americans? why don't we all just segregate these resource centers for their respective races and ethnicities? and even then, it would be constructed from this whole event, which many view as being blown way out of proportion ... i anticipate a little negativity or tarnished view of it. see, if this resource center was erected WITHOUT this incident, then it would be a great feat towards diversity here ... for multicultural purposes ... not solely for african-americans.

they also demand free tutors for african-americans, as well as a stipend for volunteer work. is it just me, or does this seem not only IMPROBABLE but outside of reason? there ARE places on campus to get tutoring --- one simply has to be resourceful enough to go and seek the aid of these services. and many do --- why the special treatment? and volunteer work is not volunteer work if it is PAID --- by definition, volunteering, or the verb volunteer is to willing give one's service without pay. otherwise, couldn't every campus job could be seen as volunteer work? or that the students who volunteer their time as part of clubs or in hospitals and labs, couldn't they be paid as well? why should a certain group get paid for "volunteer work" and not others? it is essentially a job, then, are they demanding money for volunteer work or more jobs available to only african americans?

the last comment i want to make on the demands is that of the financial education and counseling for students who are from low-income, underpriviledged communities ... i'm sorry, but the university is NOT your mommy. resources can be made available in the form of articles, tips, and information on how to manage these things, but to demand special counseling for these students? it's not that i think it's a completely bad idea, but i don't think that the university should be accountable for something like this. this is COLLEGE, not a playground. there aren't yard duty supervisors watching you while you play around. some kids take this seriously and some don't. college is an EXPERIENCE, it's a PRIVILEGE. of course there will be those who will always have an advantage over others, but who cares? you make do with what you have --- it's character building. you fuck up, and then you pay, but you learn. and if you don't learn, you will continue to fuck up until you learn, if you do. and quite honestly, i don't think 'financial education and counseling' is necessary. those who seek, will find. the same people who apply to scholarships, take on campus jobs, budget their money and plan their courses/future accordingly will succeed. those who expect or demand services to be available to them lose the desire to be proactive about what they want and how to move towards appropriate measures to get to them.

i feel like i am preaching to the choir! there are demands that i would love to be instituted here .. like the designed art spaces, and etc. to me, many of these demands seem to highlight shortcomings of a minority that expect the university to make up for. i don't believe in special treatment to those who are fully capable of getting what they want out of their college experience. to me, it represents even a better challenge to overcome even the smallest amount of negativity or stereotypical perspectives. it may be a passionate view, and i will admit now and will always admit that i cannot fully understand how those targeted feel.

it just seems to me that being a minority is almost seen as a DISABILITY! STOP DOING THIS! being a minority means no such thing! i have not seen resources and services here being preferentially provided to people of caucausian decent or asian decent over the smaller minorities. i have not once felt like the university/campus as a whole was a threatening place to be.

i'm asian, and the university happens to have a good majority of asian college students, but before coming here i was at a high school where asians were the great minority. if ever i achieved success, it was attributed to my "asianness" and not by personal merit. i began to justify doing well in school and being goal-oriented to my "asianness" and began to see myself just "as asian" instead of just me. could we avoid these stereotypes? there's nothing wrong with embracing one's race and cultural background, but it seems that demanding special treatment implies that you are ... special. but in this situation, the special means something entirely different than unique.

there is also that question about why it's almost acceptable that races and minorities are seemingly 'allowed' to make fun of others, but that others cannot make fun of them. the argument is about the existence of a double standard ... well, how about we NOT do it at all? are we mature college students or not? seriously.

i do hope some good will come out of this situation.

constantly moving

2010-02-21T23:38:00.000-08:00

this is what i'd like to be doing

first

2010-02-21T22:54:00.000-08:00

lately, i've been feeling like my life is a little bit stifling --- suppressed like the snug kind of fit provided by that extra sweater mom always made you wear but it just itched your neck. i find myself more negative than i am supposed to be; more negative than i want to be. i've noticed that i am using a lot of "i feel" in all of my sentences, a sure sign to me that i'm justifying the way that i feel by stating so.

it almost feels like a mid-life crisis. i'm in a mode of panic! i'm laughing at this because, what do you know? i'm only twenty-two years old and i have my life ahead of me. the more graduation looms ahead, the more i am afraid of the inevitable. i guess when you spend your life watching life around you go by, you trip on your own feet when you find yourself moving along with it. in this case, i feel swept along with the current.

i wake up in san diego, and some days it feels as if i have been picked up and placed here. how did i get here? why does my mind refuse to keep up with reality? i'm panicking and panicking. some days i wish i can press the fast forward button in my life, skipping ahead to where i'm settled with a family and a home i can call my own.

then i laugh. i may as well fast forward to my own death.

i'm being silly, i think. it's those moments in between the stages of life that build character; it's no wonder that i feel i've lost myself. this is why i'm blogging. i don't know what it is about a fresh new blog that quell's the yearning desire to be someone. perhaps it's like they say: blogging may be a form of narcissism, a belief that our own individual lives are important, that someone out there may find the glimpses into our lives fascinating and captivating enough to hang onto every post and word.

it's true: i have that affinity to define myself through labels, as most are apt to do. we are a female or a male, a college student or a doctor, a mother or a father, friend or foe ... cue in the list of hobbies we use as adjectives by the convenient use of er ... photographer, runner, knitter, singer, dancer, etc ... what is it about this need for an identity that trumps all else? i have my number one above all else; second to that, being 'judy' simple is not enough. even then, i can have multiple 'names' and still it could not describe me. don't get me wrong; i am not a deep thinker nor am just sitting on the sidelides, analyzing all the plays. i just wonder what compels me to be typing this post (for kicks, i'm typing in lowercase to be rebellious; punctuation drives me nuts when i'm not instant messaging).

some people rant. some people use it as a diary. others share their lives with loved ones. some people share ideas. what is my purpose?

dunno.