this is not my face

Happy New ...Month

2011-12-01T02:14:00.001-08:00

most people make resolutions at the end of the year for the new year. sometimes they do it almost out of obligation, because it's the thing to do. sometimes they do it because they actually want to follow through with it. more often than not, that resolution fades faster than the buzz of the champagne which toasted the comin of midnight.

I am doing something a little bit different. If you think about it, a new year can literally start 365 days in a year. there are different new years you can celebrate: the traditional Julian calendar new year, the lunar new year, the spring equinox (which is the day that the earth returns to the same spot in space in conjunction to the sun), you can use your birthday, an anniversary, or any other arbitrary day of he year which may or may not have significance.

so that is the many choices of having a new year resolution. what about a new month resolution? what about a new weekly or daily resolution?

my birthday was a couple weeks ago. I made a new year resolution to refrain from waste. waste in the context of money, food, time, an resources in general. I also resolved I get in shape before the calendar new year. I have a few other goals that I am working on but I haven't quite tackled them and formed any more resolutions yet.

what I am going to resolve to do this month, being the first of December and all, is to implement a piece of advice given by public speaker Jim Rohn: take a few minutes at the end of each day to review the day, take an hour at the end of each week to review the week, take a half a day at the end I each month to review the month, and to take an entire weekend at the end I each year to review that year. what did you learn? what did you accomplish? what could you have improved at? where did you fall short? and how have you taken steps to work towards whatever goals (or resolutions) that you have set for yourself?

with consistent review, and constant course adjustment you will achieve more in less time than ever dreamed.

happy December. what are you going to resolve to do this month?

facing the future with my past behind me

2011-11-28T23:53:00.001-08:00

I have not felt like writing in a very long time. Partially it is because my account got hacked and I was too lazy to set up a new direct post email system from my phone, and partially it is because I have been through a tremendous amount of change in the past year and a half.

They say that people always change. That isn't an entirely accurate statement. In a lot of ways, people stay exactly the same and it is YOU who changes. Well in this case, I feel like I changed and left my world behind me.

Is it right to leave my world behind? I didn't particularly like the world I was living in for so long. I've left a lot of people behind as well. And part of me feels like it is such a shame, but I want to get out and what see another side of life has to offer. I encourage everyone to come alone for the ride.

So now, with the new year right around the corner, I'm taking a leap off te mountain and leaving my past behind me. I release myself of all the obligations that I have been bound to for so long, and boldly go where I had never dared to go before. My future is bright and I am going to enjoy every step of the journey.

Imagine That

2011-04-11T01:30:00.001-07:00

I found this while cleaning up some stuff... I wrote it in 1993. The naïve idealistic views of an 11 year old.

Imagine that the world today
Has time for young and old to play
Imagine that all of us far and near
Will have the precious chance to hear
Sounds of nature and of man
To see the sights, yes we can!
There will be no pain at all
We'll all be happy, and life will be a ball
Imagine that everyone's happy
Living without fear
Of the gangmembers and the gunshots we hear
Imagine that the earth is clean
With no trash, ya know what I mean?
No one will be sick
With no diseases or "cure them, quick!"
Love will be plenty, and hate will be none
There won't be use for a gun
Lions will be friendly, and tigers our pet
The sharks won't want to eat us
That's 'bout as good as it van get!
Imagine that there's no pollution
The earth will be cleansed
Meat won't be digested
We'll eat the fruits from our plants
The world will be peaceful
And we'll all be glad
Our lives will be happy
And no one will be sad
Evil won't exist and neither will death
Our lives will be forever
With our hands joined together
We'll rid ourselves of violence
And share our success
We'll help out the needy
And no one will be greedy
We'll care for one another
And no thirst or hunger will be left unsatisfied
Imagine that this was our world of peace and happiness
Imagine that this isn't all a dream
And that something can be done
But there is something, love will do
So get up and help our everyone!

happy flowers

2011-04-01T17:27:00.001-07:00

These are the happiest flowers I have ever seen. I don't know why I associate daffodils with happiness, because the first thing that comes to my mind is "Daffodil Lament", a song by the Cranberries. I've always liked daffodils. They remind me of some Disney cartoon where the cup part of the flowers are big mouths that sing.

I've only ever seen them sold maybe 6 weeks out of the year. When Trader Joe's had them, I grabbed 3 bunches. My mom had never seen them before. It was kind of fun watching them peek open and bloom.

...it's a brand new day...

2011-01-02T03:56:00.000-08:00

When I was in grade school, we learned this song that went: "Gonna rise up singing, it's a brand new day... I see the sun is a-shining and the rain isn't falling like it was just yesterday, so I feel like singing. Got a reason to say 'Gonna rise up singing, throw my troubles away cuz it's a brand new day!'"

Those song lyrics have stuck with me throughout the years and never fail to cheer me up, regardless of how foul my mood is. And with the new year and all, I felt like it is a great attitude to personify in 2011.

I'm over making resolutions. I think that if you only sit back once a year to make a list of all the things you want to change in your life, you're never going to succeed in making lasting change. If you're in school, or a part of some kind of committee in your company, you have to make assessments monthly or quarterly. I decided a while back that I'm gonna make resolutions every day of my life. And unlike the ones we make during the new year, I'm actually succeeding at sticking to my new resolutions.

This year, I'm turning 30 years old. I guess it's supposed to be a big occasion, turning 30. I guess some people think of it as getting old, and no longer being a kid. Some people think that it means you have to become more responsible and let go of "childhood dreams" and such nonsense. I disagree. I think that when I turn 30, it's just another marker in my life, and I'm giving myself permission to go faster, and dream bigger. I want to retire this year. Meaning, I will no longer HAVE to work to live. I want to enjoy every moment of my life and allow things and situations to come in and out of my life like leaves floating away in a stream.

Time is fleeting by so quickly. It seems as if it is accelerating faster as each year whizzes by. Every moment counts. It's a brand new year. It's a brand new day. What are you planning to do with it?

the giving of thanks

2010-11-25T10:02:00.001-08:00

an observation i've made of the general public is that most of us spend most of our precious waking moments bitching and moaning about what we DON'T have instead of giving thanks and appreciating the things that we are blessed with in our lives.

today is Thanksgiving, the day of turkey and pumpkin pie. today most of America will take off from work and spend their day with family, friends and loved ones. today, most of us will share in shameless binge eating and gluttony. i hope that today, everyone will also take some time and reflect on all the things in your lives for which you are thankful for.

i'm starting a new tradition. instead of making today (Thanksgiving) the only day of the year in which I reflect upon things that i am thankful for, i shall make a daily habit of it. not only that, but i shall also make it a regular habit to tell the people in my life the reasons why i am thankful for their presence, their comfort, their constructive criticisms, and their overall involvement in my life.

for starters, i am thankful for my family. my parents made some extreme sacrifices to ensure that my sisters and i can grow up in a country where women have more opportunities than in any other part of the world. i am thankful for my sisters because even though we have little in common, they are always there for me to support me when i need them the most. i am thankful for my boyfriend because he has shown me the strength of compassion and continuously teaches me the meaning of unconditional love. i am thankful for my friends who know when to call me out on my shortcomings, and when to hold me up because i need their comfort.

these are just a small fraction of all that i am thankful for. i know that if i occupy my attention on focusing only on that which makes me thankful, eventually, that is all i will find.

a blank canvas

2010-10-19T02:28:00.000-07:00

imagine your life as a blank canvas. imagine that you are going to paint your life. it could be in any medium you wish: actual cloth canvas with oil paint, paper with charcoal, cymk in photoshop, or even finger painting on the ipad. how would you paint your life? what would the end result look like?

would your life be in HQ ultra-hi-def-realism, or would it be small, pocket sized... something that fits on a key chain? how clearly would the images be depicted: color versus sepia versus black+white ? would your life be a beautiful work of art, or would it be something a little more violent and abstract?

most people would describe their lives as drab, faded photographs. always looking in the past does not pave the way for a good future. have you ever tried running with your head turned behind you? what about walking?

every so often, something happens to each of us. events leave impressions upon our souls, like ink that doesn't get fully cleaned off of a dry-erase board. if you are the painter of your life, and you get to start with a blank canvas, what would you paint?

what will you create?

this is the story of my life

2010-09-30T02:42:00.000-07:00

once upon a time there was a little girl who dreamt of growing up to graduate from a prestigious university, land the perfect job with a 401k, bump into a handsome stranger at some holiday mixer, buy a house with a white picket fence, and have 2.5 kids. the fairy tale ends with the old couple cuddling on a porch swing with grandkids at their feet and acres and acres of bright green grass surrounding the old plantation style home. have you ever seen "the notebook"? well, that storyline is just about as practical as this one.

have you ever wondered where all of your beliefs about life come from? have you ever uttered the phrase "it wasn't supposed to turn out like this"? what are things actually supposed to turn out to be?

i think many of us have fallen victim to a storyline that is about as outdated as the black and white tube television set. i didn't graduate college. i didn't work my way up some corporate ladder. i didn't get married, and i don't want kids. sometimes i look at others that i grew up with and kind of gauge my life based on what is going on with theirs. i shouldn't do that.

my best friend from high school is engaged to be married. she has a condo in a respectable neighborhood, and she has dogs. she is happy with her life. and i am happy for her. a lot of things that she has could easily be enviable, but i would not want her life. i never liked doing things the "normal" way. i always have another idea in the back of my head. sometimes it gets me into trouble, but i always seem to find my way out.

i'm in a weird place in my life right now. i'm almost 30 years old. the big three oh. i've owned several prosperous businesses, and i have a shitload of life experience. if i were applying to get into college right now, the story of my life would guarantee me admittance into pretty much any university i chose. i believe that i can do and be anything i choose. the world is like an a la carte menu, all i have to do is place my order.

the only thing is, because i have so many options, i am kind of stuck.

i recently decided to redefine the things that i use to define my success. instead of defining my achievements by "how much money did i make" or "how many certificates do i have hanging on my wall" i am now defining my success by "how much did i learn" and "how much did i enjoy my experience".

life is short. it is fleeting, really. in 100 years, most of us will not be here anymore. money depreciates, beauty fades, fashion goes out of style, the latest and greatest is always being upgraded.

the only commodity that is truly scarce is time and health. if i'm gonna have to live my life, why not live it well. my life as i have known it is over. i'm closing the book. time to start a new chapter. this is my first page.

that which defines me

2010-09-22T02:07:00.000-07:00

I used to think that I'd die if I lost my stuff. I have a lot of stuff. Clothes, electronic gizmos, music, collectibles, yarn, crafts, stuffed animals, yearbooks, etc. etc. I thought that the worse thing would happen, that the world would open up and swallow me.

Then, I got it in my head that I wanted to change. There are certain things about myself that I don't like. So I got different stuff. I changed my clothes, changed my music, changed the things I associated myself with. Out with the old an in with the stylish. But I didn't feel any different, and I wasn't any happier.

A wise man once said: if you want things to change in your life, then you have to change things in your life. I took that literally.

I feel that many of us define ourselves by the things which possess. I know I do. But now, I am changing that definition. I am getting rid of my physical possessions and replacing my beliefs about their importance.

I am going to start defining myself by the amount of joy I allow myself to experience, and the positivity I can bring to others' lives. I am going to start defining myself by what I feel versus what I own. That doesn't mean to live in the forest with loin cloths and twig homes, but to balance my emotions and sense of self. I am a whole vibrant person. If I lose the things I own, I will not lose myself.

omg this is brilliant!

2010-09-20T02:29:00.000-07:00

I didn't write this, I'm just reposting it:

five.sentenc.es

The Problem

E-mail takes too long to respond to, resulting in continuous inbox overflow for those who receive a lot of it.

The Solution

Treat all email responses like SMS text messages, using a set number of letters per response. Since it's too hard to count letters, we count sentences instead.

five.sentenc.es is a personal policy that all email responses regardless of recipient or subject will be five sentences or less. It's that simple.

* See also: two.sentenc.es, three.sentenc.es, and four.sentenc.es.

** To begin using this system, optionally copy this text and paste it into your e-mail signature:

--------------------------------------------

Q: Why is this email five sentences or less?

A: http://five.sentenc.es

disappointment

2010-09-02T02:32:00.000-07:00

i hate being disappointed. so much to the point that if i think that i am gonna face disappointment, i will literally stop pursuing the thing that will cause my disappointment.

the trouble with this kind of thinking is that my perceived sources of anguish usually are not accurate. i mean, i wouldn't really know, but i must assume that i can't see the future. once in a while i will go through with something that i am just SURE is gonna suck like hell, and am surprised to find that not only did it not suck that bad, sometimes i actually find a happy ending in the horror that i sought to avoid.

i guess you can say that i am easily disappointed. i've lost faith in the world, and the people around me irritate me like nails on a chalk board. my tolerance for static has been diminished to almost null. i am very angry that things don't turn out the way they are "supposed" to. and at this point in my life, i am even more disappointed in myself to find that perhaps i've caused a large proportion of sorrow in my lifetime.

like the fox who cannot quite reach the grapes... sulking away and convincing himself that the grapes were probably sour anyway... i see that my life has developed this pattern. i will strive hard to achieve things for others, but rarely ever will i pursue those things that i most violently care about.

i am scared.

there, i said it. i am scared.

i am afraid that i will be rejected, turned down, fall short, fail to dazzle, lose time, lose face, lose money, blah blah blah. so many excuses. i have rejected myself a million times over that the slightest hint of a nuance of opposition sends me running to the hills. AAAAAAHHHHHH I AM RUNNING AWAY FROM THE FINGERS POINTING AT ME and yet the only finger i see is the one following me in my reflection.

i have wasted my life. i have lost a thousand lifetimes in my head. i have gone down every possible wrong road in the reality in my mind, that in the blink of an eye i have given up and thrown in the towel yet i have not even begun.

the funny thing about all this is, that i've done a lot in my life. i've succeeded at things beyond most people's wildest imaginations. i've done the undoable. i've beaten the unbeatable. and yet i have this little chink in my armor. imagine what i could be if i could just erase this little word from my world.

the value of a life

2010-08-25T00:46:00.001-07:00

I am sad. I do not know what is the value of a life. My life. Your life. A life.

I shipped a package via Fedex recently. The guy asked me if I wanted to insure the package, and I asked how much extra it would be. He asked how much the package was worth, and I said maybe $500. The item didn't have a price on it because it was hand crafted. The guy told me that "one of a kind" items are not replaceable therefore not insurable by Fedex.

If an item is not replaceable, then it doesn't have a price on it. If something doesn't have a price, then what is the value on it? There are companies that sell life insurance but what is the value of a life?

Life is a string of moments, stuck together in chronological order. Some moments are happy and some just straight out suck. If you measure life's value by the happy moments, then does a tragic life have no value? Can we just void out all the lives that are filled with suffering and nothing else? Who would be left to bear witness that we existed?

People die every day. Nothing changes. We laugh, we cry, we live, we die. The world keeps turning. The sun keeps burning. Everything is meaningless in the big picture. In a long enough time line, everyone's life expectancy will drop to zero.

Just as you cannot judge a book until you have read through to the final period, the true value of a life is not revealed until it is over.

I am sad.

saying goodbye

2010-08-19T02:32:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, I found out that my grandfather has passed away. It is odd that I feel sad as I am not close to him. Nor am I particularly saddened by death in general. I am happy that he has gone, I believe he's in a better place. And after the story that my father told me, I believe he chose to go at this time.

My grandfather was a hard working coal miner, living a very modest life in Taiwan. His wife passed away when my father was just a boy, and he worked hard to raise 3 boys on his own. I don't know much about his life, but I know that during my grandfather's childhood, into his late teenage years, Taiwan was occupied by the Japanese. As a result of that, grandpa could read and understand Japanese.

For the better part of the last decade, my grandfather lived with liver cancer. He used to come and stay with us for months at a time, and underwent treatment for his cancer. Although he never beat it, he still lived a very active life. His philosophy was kind of like "if I'm gonna die anyway, I might as well enjoy myself in the mean time." I saw him as a strong man, and though he was reticent to show any kind of emotional affection, he always did stuff for us, that showed he cared.

Once, when I was very young, he took me on a bike ride to go visit with someone. During the trip home, he had stopped to buy me juice because he knew that I had never tried it, and thought I would enjoy it. Then, when I was a teenager, visiting Taiwan again, he surprised me and my sisters by riding into town to pick up a case of a special Chinese soda we all enjoyed. Then, during one of his later visits to America, he also brought us some special treats that we never asked for but he noticed we had enjoyed during our stay in Taiwan.

It is odd to me that people grieve the dead. I believe that we grieve for ourselves, and not for the loss of life the other person experiences. Life on Earth sucks, and maybe we should celebrate the dead and grieve for the living.

I am not religious. I'm not Christian, nor do I believe in the Heaven/Hell concept. I believe that the soul lingers after it leaves the body, similar to a Buddhist concept of reincarnation.

The passing of my grandfather makes me sad because I believe that he did not experience all the joys that there are to be experienced. I am sad that I got to grow up in America with all the luxuries that our country enjoys, while he lived poor and suffered much hardships in Taiwan. It makes me wonder what makes it that someone gets everything and someone gets nothing.

I'm not trying to get all philosophical or anything, it just makes me think.

His memorial is to be on September 12th. My family will all travel back to our home country and meet to do the customary things that Chinese people do when someone dies. I am not going. I don't feel the need to go.

I was never close to my grandfather. I never shared intimate laughs with him or talked of past and future. My grandfather did not play a huge role in my life growing up, but stands for the strength that my father brought to America, and the sacrifices that parents make for their kids to have a better life. I love my grandfather. I feel closer to him now than when he was alive. I am at peace, and I feel like he is happier now on the other side.

ripples in the pond

2010-08-10T19:19:00.000-07:00

The past is the past. Is it better to leave it behind us? Some say that when you turn your back on who you were, you will never become who you are suppose to be.

I recently had a discussion with a dear friend of mine about the darkness in our past. There are so many fucked up people out there who are hurting. Sometimes the things that hurt us become so ingrained in our souls that nothing is the same ever again. Sometimes we perpetuate the hurt, and our future doesn't stand a chance.

The danger of forgetting our past lies in that our subconscious never forgets. Our subconscious is like the hard drive of a super computer. We have been programming the operating system for many lifetimes. When something happens to us, good or bad, we create a new rule for our subconscious and our subconscious follows it perfectly. The only way to change that rule is to go back and find the original code and reprogram it.

If we burn our hands on the stove, we remember not to touch a hot stove again. However, if we came to the wrong conclusion and made the rule "never touch a stove again" or if we remember to "never touch food" again, then what happens? Sometimes we come to the wrong conclusions and sometimes we forget about the incidents that created the "rule" in the first place.

Imagine all the things we have learned along the way. What lasting effects do they have upon us? What if, at a very young age, someone you love and trust tried to hurt you? How any ripples of effect do you think that has had upon your future ability to trust people?

I am broken. I am sure that you are too. In some way, I am sure that all of us are. So the next time that something bad happens, the next time that you react in an unexplainable fashion, try to think back and see where and when you created the rule. If you have an irrational fear of heights, did you fall as a young child? Maybe you watched a movie of someone falling to their death and it affected you. Maybe, in a past life you fell to your death.

The next time someone is cruel to you, instead of creating a new rule of "don't trust anyone", realize that that person has been hurt before and don't perpetuate the ripples in the pond.

the juice of half a lemon

2010-08-04T03:10:00.000-07:00

I love tartar sauce. Tartar sauce is essentially just mayonnaise, sweet relish, and lemon juice. You can make it very easily, and you can even jazz it up with chopped capers, fresh flat leaf parsley, garlic, paprika, and various other spices.

It's almost 3:00am and I have the craving for fish sticks, and of course I need tartar sauce to accompany my early morning snack. I squeeze out a nice goop of sweet relish and mix it into a spoonful of mayonnaise. I taste it. Yuck, no good. It needs the juice of half a lemon.

I grab a flashlight and cart my lazy butt outside to pluck a lemon from my tree. I wash it and am about to quarter it as I start to think about the inconvenience of trying to squeeze lemon wedges-I usually end up with lemon juice in my eye and seeds in my sauce.

Then I remember a special way the lemon was cut the last time I ordered calamari at my favorite restaurant. It was sliced in half on the horizontal and vertical (opposite hemispheres of the lemon) then separated with a quarter slice on the sides to form something that looks like a puzzle piece. When you squeeze the lemon half in this manner, you get a much better volume of juice. You also end up with the outer peels facing inwards towards one another.

Whoever came up with this cut is brilliant. It is simplistic yet efficient and graceful.

So, here is the better way to get the juice of half a lemon. And my tartar sauce is delicious.

my jigsaw lemon half

homemade tartar sauce

fingerpainting on my ipad

2010-08-01T16:08:00.000-07:00

I saw some amazing ipad paintings in the Mac Format magazine. So I decided to let my inner Picasso come out to play.

blue sky

leaves

that doesn't look like grapes

It's like a Monet, except it looks fucked up from far away too. :p

today and the next day

2010-08-01T02:04:00.000-07:00

I have a hard time answering the question "what do I want?" This is a struggle I've been having for as long as I can remember. I'm pretty good at achieving my goals once they are set, it's just that once I get down past the superficial stuff, I get stuck.

There is a wonderful independent film called "Mr. Nobody". There is one scene where the main character Nemo, as a little boy, is in the bakery. He has only enough money to purchase one treat, and is having difficulty deciding if he wants the cake or the cookie. He explains that the future is not written. We have infinite options as long as a choice is not made, but once we choose we are stuck with the choice so we must choose wisely. Then, he leaves the bakery without buying anything.

This is kind of what I feel like at times-like there are infinite possibilities but since the clock is ticking, I must choose wisely because I would not be able to go back and correct things. Of course, this is all a load of horse shit.

I have a few passions at this moment in time, that I could realistically choose as my next career. 1) I have a passion for marketing, with quite a bit of experience and expertise in the field. I lack, however, formal certification aka a college degree. 2) I also have a passion for graphic design, integrating web development. Although I do not have all the technical knowledge I would need to flourish in this field, I'm smart and I learn quickly. 3) I have substantial knowledge, experience, expertise, talent, etc. in the martial arts and working out but my heart isn't in it at the moment. I'm good at it, yes, but I feel like I would be limiting myself and the successes that I can attain if I choose to pursue this field. 4) Then there is writing and music. Writing, I'm decent at. Music, I have the passion but not the knowledge nor the technical skills at. There are other things on my horizon, but these are the main things occupying my interest at this moment.

The illusion that I've tricked myself into believing is that I can only choose one. I realize that for every day that I'm stuck in procrastination is another day that I've allowed to pass by without taking a step towards ANY of these goals that I claim I have. Who said that I can't pursue all of my passions at the same time?

So today, I am taking advantage of my time. I have eyes, ears, hands, a brain, and I have all the interest in the world to learn and accomplish new things. I'm researching online. I'm downloading ebooks. I'm perusing magazines. There's a plethora of information out there on how to do stuff. There are no limits to what I can do except for the ones that I place upon myself.

Today is my day. Tomorrow is always a day away, and as long as I keep things for tomorrow, I will never do them. If I say TODAY I will do them, then when I wake up in the morning the next day, it will once again become today.

speaking their language

2010-07-29T21:43:00.000-07:00

This is the fifth time I've sat down to compose something "blog worthy" in the last 3 days. I keep starting something, getting distracted, then the ideas don't flow readily. I feel like I'm making an outline for an essay in English or something...

I've noticed that since I started my twitter account, back in the winter of 2008, my patience has decreased in direct proportion to my attention span. If you have a twitter, then you understand what I'm saying. There are people in my life who barely access their email, let alone understand this fast paced world of 140 character long blips. Facebook, I think, allows for 999 characters. Emails are usually screened on my blackberry or ipad. Voice messages allow for what, 90 seconds? The world is spinning faster and faster. Either that or I'm getting really old. It's rare for me to sit down and compose a really long, well thought out, grammatically correct piece of writing.

What I have noticed in all of this is that the way we communicate with each other is changing at a very dramatic pace. If there was a generational gap before, between the youth and their parents, there REALLY is one now. I find that my ability to communicate clearly has suffered as a result of my habitual use of twitter, facebook, and instant messaging. I forget that there exists a world outside of me, and outside of twitter, that still turns on the television for the news (AS IF. that is SO 1999) and picks up the phone when they want to get a hold of someone.

I advise my friends and clients to be mindful of how people prefer to be contacted. I need do the same. It's like speaking a different language, in a sense. Or traveling across time zones. If I need to get a hold of someone in England, I better make sure that it is day time over there. If I want to get a hold of someone who doesn't have a blackberry or an iphone, and doesn't check their phone every 5 minutes like I do, I better figure out if emailing them is the best way to contact them. Likewise, if I know that someone is rarely in the office to check their voice messages, sometimes a text message is the only way to get through a busy person.

As for me, I'm always online. Maybe I should spend more time in the real world.

living a grudge

2010-07-25T04:42:00.001-07:00

They say "don't get mad, get even". But when is a score settled? If everyone spent their time trying to get back at everyone who has hurt them, then when would there be time in a day to work on moving forward, building a life?

I am a culmination of a lot of hurt and pain. I live my life base on avoidance of all things negative. I learn the behaviors that cause me harm, and I alter my actions based on these lessons. The only problem is that I hold a grudge. I'm angry and resentful. It eats me up inside and pretty soon there will be nothing left but this walking collection of hate and hurt.

I think a lot of people are like me-scared and scarred. It makes it impossible to interact with one another in a real way because everyone ends up walking around with their swords drawn, shields up, and defensive all the time.

I went to the club tonight. I watched all the individual groups and couples segregated from one another. No one interacted with someone outside of the group they came with. All huddled together, protective of their frail identities. Tough guys, and frigid bitches, stuck on their set courses of "try to act cool and impress the other losers".

Why are we all like this? It's almost as if we are little kids and mom yells at us to not cross the street because we might get ran over. Pretty soon, why bother leaving the house anymore if all these terrible things can happen?

I am a prisoner. I am stuck. I hold a grudge, and now I'm stuck to it. My life has become overtaken by useless defense mechanisms, originally designed to protect me. Well, as I peer past the bars that I've erected to prevent others from getting in, I realize that they prevent me from reaching out as well.

the pictures of my past

2010-07-20T19:35:00.001-07:00

My earliest memories were not memories at all, but flashes of images-photographs imprinted in my mind. I was a happy lovable little girl. What happened to her, I do not know...

I am the youngest of three girls. Coming from a Chinese family, that must have really sucked for my father. In the Chinese culture the boy child is revered higher than the girl because the boy can carry on the family name. My father is the oldest of three boys and he alone was the only in his family to gain a proper education and make something of himself. He was able to get off that dirty little rice paddy island called Taiwan. I can only imagine the vast disappointment he had in me when I was born, his last hope of having q son, and I was a girl. I suppose my parents could have made more children, but they had mutually decided that three was the magic number.

I am grateful to have such loving and supportive parents. But I do resent the situation I was put in. Should anyone mention to my father that it was HIS fault I was born a girl? After all, it was his contribution to the pot that decided the gender of his offspring. In any case, I am grateful that my parents decided to keep me and not take me back for a refund.

So, my earliest memories were of me and my sisters, growing up in a enclosed Chinese community while my young parents worked very hard in the hospital across the way from where we lived. I was always the oddball of the family. My sisters and I are only one year apart, but I never really got along with them. They were inseparable as young girls. All the way through to middle school, they spent a lot of time sharing friends and interests and hobbies.

We used to dance and perform when we were kids. I have photos of the three year old me, all dressed up and made up with brig red lipstick and fancy costumes. I also (randomly) remember one time when my sisters were nowhere to be found. My parents looked all over for them only to find that they were behind the curtains washing their hair. I couldn't have been more than two or three years old at that time.

I also have a memory which cannot be placed in the timeline of reality in my life. I think we were in the kitchen and my oldest sister was cutting apples or something. Maybe it was my mom. Either way, I think I was reaching for something on the counter and managed to drop hue knife on my foot. There are no memories of being cut or any evidence of scars. So I have no idea if it really happened. That was like four years old.

I also have a phantom memory where I had managed to peel off my fingernail backwards because I was screwing around and skating and going too fast. I also don't remember hue aftermath of pain or healing, so who knows if that had actually happened or not. That would have been like a six or seven year old me.

So here I am now, over two decades later, flipping through pages in the memory book in my mind, and I can't seem to recall a lot of things. The most bizarre things that I do remember are dreams and nightmares that I used to have as a little kid. I suppose my brain is really over imaginative and if I sit and think of a situation long enough, I can fill in the bits and pieces of the story. Maybe I should collect them all into a volume of short stories and see if I can recreated my imagined life.

these are the lies I have created

2010-07-05T19:26:00.001-07:00

Life is what happens while you are either caught up in hope or on the way to being disappointed. Some people don't have hope or expectations, I made the mistake of thinking things will work out. Now, I'm not completely being pessimistic here. Think about it for a moment. Things don't work out. They don't just happen seamlessly on their own. We have to work our asses off to make them happen. Even a perfectly executed plan has intricate parts and pieces where not everything is within our control and even if it were, took hours and months, and sometimes years of excruciating sweat and precise planning.

You all have heard of the "over night success" analogies. But no one is successful over night. If a beautiful girl gets "discovered" and offered a modeling contract, she still needed to maintain her physical appearance and basic health during her years growing up. Even if someone did nothing else but be born, that still took 9 months of incubation in mum's tummy.

Nothing is perfect and everything is deceptively easy. I learned this a while back-you have to work for your successes and struggle through all the pain and discomfort of growing in order to become so skillful at something that it becomes easy.

I hate the learning process. It sucks and it is awkward and uncomfortable. It really doesn't matter how talented you are, anyone who puts in the hours can become sufficient. Some will be better than others and yet some will just fade away into the background.

So I've lied to myself, made myself believe that certain things matter. They don't. There is no luck. There are no breaks. Its just an endless assembly line of produce produce produce.

Love doesn't exist and life doesn't transcend. Its all up to you to do something about it. And make it count.

ugly is the new beautiful

2010-07-02T03:09:00.000-07:00

everything i see is ugly to me. the things that i used to thing were beautiful... the diamonds, the sparkles, the sleek leather, the skinny starved overly made up faces staring back at me on the pages of the magazine. what is beauty? if beauty is in the eye of the beholder, than everything that is ugly is beautiful to me. the more society likes it, the more i shun away from it. the more mass media promotes it, the more i despise it.

i see imperfection in the world. i see hunger, and hatred, and vindictiveness. those things are beautiful to me. i see the face of a dying cat, struggling to move after it's been hit by a passing car. and i see beauty. i see the dullness of the stare of the overweight girl, secluded in the playground, and that is beautiful to me.

the pain, the suffering, the emotional despair. this floods my eyes and i see beauty.

why is everything backwards? i don't know. maybe my brain was hacked into and the wiring was done incorrectly. or maybe because there is so much exaggeration and forced physical perfection in my life, in my town that i hate it. i hate how people are judged by face value. i hate that girls kill themselves because they are 2 sizes too large to be accepted by the "in crowd". i hate that beautiful people forcefully disfigure themselves surgically because that is what hollywood wants them to be.

michael jackson. the man who made a caricature of his face because he had so much self loathing for himself and could not see the good.

everything i am, everything i see... beauty on the outside and ugly on the inside. ugly on the outside and beautiful on the inside. the sharp contrast between the wanted and the rejects. the constant struggle to gain acceptance. society sucks. i hate the social pressures. and yet i have fallen victim to it.

i am plain. i want to be anything but "beautiful". because it is an ugly world. and i want to have no part of it.

its a matter of motivation

2010-06-22T03:04:00.000-07:00

People do strange things for money. If I were to offer you a million dollars, you would all of a sudden find yourself very motivated to do a lot of things that you never would have dreamed of prior to the offer. How many times have you joked with your friends "if I offered you a million dollars to climb to the top of the eiffel tower and bungee jump off... would you?" Or "if I were to offer you a million dollars to swim in a lake with sharks... would you?" Or "if I were to offer you a million dollars to run across the width of Texas... would you?" Well, maybe you wouldn't make it but you'd sure consider it, right?

So now the question you should ask yourself is, what are the things that will motivate you in a day. If you want to lose weight but aren't taking any actions towards it, what would motivate you to do so? Actors do it all the time. Christian Bale starved himself down to a skeleton for the movie the Machinist, only to turn around and become all nice and husky for Batman Begins. I'm sure it wasn't easy, but he was motivated to do it.

What makes the difference between the guy who rises early and stays late at the real estate office, to build his multi-million dollar empire over the course of 7 years, versus th guy who can't be arsed to get off the couch and go apply for a job so he's still living at mommy and daddy's house? What about the stories you hear about the 60 or 70 year old who has a heart attack or survives cancer only to turn around and train for and win some triathalon?

If you were paid $10,000 a month to file papers and take phone calls, how well would you do your job? But who is to say that by doing your job better than anyone else in your company, or in the history of your company, that you wouldn't be given a promotion or an opportunity to rise to a position that can pay you $10,000 a month. Do you think that the person who is responsible for filing papers and taking phone calls for someone as important as Donald Trump makes less than $10,000 a month? Now obviously I don't know how much Trump pays his secretaries, but I am saying that we all are capable of doing more than what we currently are doing. We just have to find the proper motivation.

There is a joke I heard that goes like this: a guy asks a girl at the bar "if I offered you a million dollars, would you sleep with me?" The girl responds "well sure." The guy retorts, "will you do it for $20 then?" The girl is offended and snaps "what do you think I am, a whore?!" The guy replies "we've already established that. Now we're just negotiating terms"

We are all whores, we just have to find our right price.

ribbons, lace, and safety pins

2010-06-20T03:49:00.001-07:00

I went to the circus disco tonight. I've gone there before and its usually trance with asians and white people and a few of the sprinkled minority groups enjoying the rhythmic thumping of electronica while bathed in darkness and laser lights.

Tonight was "batland" or something light that. The music was still trance electronica but there were lots and lots of "alternative" "fetish" "goth" people there. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I embrace the darkside and love vampires more than the average girl. (I'm not talking about the sparkling skin kind here)

I used to parade around in dark lipstick, while powder, black shiny vinyl, fishnets, and doc martins as a kid. These were "my people". But I've never been to a goth club. Nor have I ever been in a dungeon. Tonight's party featured lots of ominous looking pale skinned brethren, with piercings, colorful fur, fake blood, and corsets. The guys had blonde and metallic dreadlocks and 6" platform knee high boots, long plastic trenchcoats, the whole shebang. There were people getting spanked, flogged, whipped, tied, smacked, etc.

It was a bit much to take in. Took a while for me to find some friendly faces to approach. One girl, who was clearly intoxicated, came up behind me and looked like she was whimpering. I asked her if she was okay, her boyfriend explained that her feet were suffering from the confines of borrowed boots. I've been there. I told her "at least you look cute" to which she responded "thanks, you're cute too". I gave her a hug.

Haha, very random, but these people were nicer to me than the average club crowd I've encountered in the past. I didn't have to feel like I was competing to be the thinnest, whoriest girl in the room (although I might have won on the thinnest part... And I'm not that thin) obviously I'm not "one of them". I don't have tattoos or unconventional piercings. I am not wearing fishnets with batwings and corsets with my boobies popping out (what boobs!) But these people were my people.

Maybe they're a little off, but so am I. Maybe they're a little fucked up, but so am I. Maybe they're just out to have a good time and feel good about themselves because they have the guts to strut down the streets wearing pounds and pounds of zippers and safety pins, holding together scraps of fabric that can be called a shirt. Maybe that makes them happy.

Whatever the case is, I had a great time, and although I got freaked out a bit at the beginning, I settled right in and made a few new friends. They wear their crazy on the outside, and I like them just fine! :)

the space between

2010-06-18T21:37:00.000-07:00

There is a fine line between what is real and what is perceived. If you've ever been in that state right before you lose consciousness, its like your whole body goes tingly and your mind has static right before everything goes black. And then you jump into the world that dominates your mind. Some call that space astral, but I refer to the space in between as the abyss.

I've been living in the abyss for what seems like the last 10 years. I don't know where I am, where I'm coming from, or where I'm going. When someone talks, my mind narrates and I have to question it afterwards. Was it a dream? Was it really real? Maybe it was all just made up to spite myself.

In the stories that I play out in my mind, I never win. I'm always close, but can't quite finish. Like I'm running in quicksand, and I just... don't... have... the... strength. Maybe that's why I never finish in real life.

You know how they say that what you think is what you manifest? Well, I am fucking myself if that is the case. I'm brilliant and I'm talented, but just never see it going my way. Damn. Self sabotage 101. So I trick myself into thinking about all the wonderful things I want to be, and all the ways where I can overcome. (Random aside, I just killed a little beetle that was crawling on my arm. I hate bugs.) The thing is that I'm too damn good at writing myself out to be the tragic hero.

Who does that! I mean, really. Who actually goes out of their way to die tragically in their own story. I guess some of us are rather twisted.

So in that space in between, where dragons and demons live, where angels and sorcerers battle, where fairies and sunshine reigns, I try to sort through the mess and figure out what is real and what is imagined.

Maybe I've been dreaming this entire time. Maybe I'll wake up one morning and still be that fat little angry 10 year old I once was, only to have to go through it all again. This time for real. And maybe I'll have to make the right choices and try to get back to that place where everything in my life changed for good. Maybe that place is right here and right now.

All I have to do is open my eyes.

tomorrow is the first in an endless string of tomorrows

2010-06-14T03:16:00.000-07:00

I'm sick of not ever getting anything done. It seems like everything is jumbled together and days and weeks and months fly by faster than the speed of light.

I always start each week with a very specific "this week I'm gonna..." and then by day's end it becomes "well I'll get to that tomorrow". Frustrating thing is that there are only 52 weeks in a year and 28 and a half years have passed by and still nothing has been accomplished.

When do I get time to do stuff for ME? Seems like I'm always running around doing things for other people, to appease my parents, to appease my friends, to appease my boss, to appease the bill collectors. Well, maybe all to appease the bill collectors.

My parents both grew up dirt poor, they started out with very little and made something of themselves. They achieved a rather respectable income bracket but yet they still live like they are still in the backwards country side. My family is as dysfunctional as any of the Joy Luck Club families, except without the mutual respect and love. I guess love is there, but what a miserable way to live.

I don't like my life. I don't like the way I've been taught to think. I hate my family's lack of passion. I hate that even though my mother makes more in a year than most household's total combined incomes are, she still insists on penny pinching every little piece. Don't use the whole paper towel if you need to just wipe up a little bit of water condensation. Or at least reuse it to dry your hands later.

I mean, its all good stuff, but taken to a whole new level of OCD that I just can't stomach.

When does life begin? Why am I putting things off for tomorrow? I am a compilation of a lot of great ideas with a lot of bad habits. I lack the organization and the drive to see things through. I'm lazy at times, yet I tend to do more and work harder than all my peers. I am insatiable and at the same time completely content with the situation I have been presented. I have not found my zen, I have not found my balance.

Today I declare war upon myself and if I lose, I will win. Today I shall fight till the death, because if I do not live today, I will not be ALIVE tomorrow.

losing everything

2010-01-30T00:57:00.000-08:00

i had a friend once. a very long time ago. he was my best friend, my trusted friend... i spent pretty much all my waking hours either hanging out with him, talking to him online or talking to him on the phone. we discussed everything and anything-from the most retarded anecdotes to the deepest philosophical discussions. i turned to him when i was in need, and he was always there for me. then one day i stopped returning his calls, stopped returning his emails, and any attempts at which he had made to connect with me.

years passed and i saw on his myspace or friendster page (yah, it was THAT long ago) that there was this one friend that had disappeared from his life and he didn't know why. he was hoping to reconnect with her. and i believe that to this day, he still has no clue why i disappeared.

i have a lot of guilt. i've made a lot of poor decisions that led me to where i am. some decisions were brilliant ones, but some were just really absurdly retarded.

and now i think i'm in the same boat. i'm in that position again where i have to cut everything loose and disappear.

what is wrong with me, that i do not allow anyone to get close to me? why do i worry so much that i'm going to do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing, make the wrong impression? and inadvertently i make my prophecy come true.

who am i running from? and why is the dark cloud of guilt always blinding my judgement?

to love me is to be hurt. to care for me is to be betrayed. you who seek to get close to me be forewarned. i am damaged goods. i am not good for you. and in the end i hurt only myself because you would be smart enough to move on. to not pay much heed to this stupid broken girl who tried to be whole and just simply didn't make the cut.

maybe everything they said about me was right. maybe i am just a stupid naive little kid. wearing my heart on my sleeve, running around with the dagger pointed at my heart... begging for you not to drive it in. maybe i deserve it because i inflict nothing but pain to those around me. maybe this is my penance for being born.

i was given everything and i threw it all away. and then i wonder why i'm so miserable. silly me.

that which is broken

2010-01-07T23:55:00.000-08:00

i used to believe in love. i used to seek it in all things, and yearn for it to be returned to me. a mild obsession would be declared the moment someone caught my fancy. that obsession, like lukewarm water set to simmer on a stovetop quickly would roar into a raging boil. logic went out the window, and all i could think about is "what can i do to make you love me?"

this past year, i went through quite a few momentous changes in my life. i had my heart broken repeatedly, then torn out, and shredded and nullified. then i met someone who put a spark of hope back in my eye. it was very rare and unexpected for me to see that there was a possibility of happiness outside the realms of my dark secluded dungeon. for once, in a very long time, i found a will to live and to thrive. and as i struggled against the restraints of social pressures and accepted dysfunctional ideals... i managed to kill everything that i had every cared about in the past. (that's a good thing, by the way).

the thing about change is, in order for change to happen, a chain reaction is set off that affects all surrounding the subject. in the case of molecular change, when one atom leaves its existing bonds, a void is created that then must be filled and both sides restructure with completely different physical properties. sometimes the change in a molecular structure releases off quite a bit of energy (think in terms of the atomic bomb. THAT is a LOT of energy)...

so. i changed. and in the process, i disrupted many lives surrounding mine. i got to witness first hand, heartbreak as seen through the eyes of a neutral third party (me). and for once in my life i experience empathy.

the newfound ability for me to detach myself from the emotions that are unfolding in front of my eyes has shed a bit of light on certain situations that i never before understood. growing up, there were always boys that i'd like that would not return my affection. and i would do whatever i could to make them like me. i would try gifting things. i would try doing things for them. i would try to demonstrate knowledge and interest in the things that they were interested in.

i really missed the point.

you cannot make someone love you. love is not a commodity that can be bought or traded. love is not something you can own as a possession. love is not something you hold hostage, or blackmail someone by withholding. love is a sensitive butterfly that must be allowed to flutter around and land on as many flowers as the garden possesses. love needs room to grow, and freedom to dance. the moment you cage it and claim it as yours, it will die.

there are many jaded people in this world. i can see why now. i see all those broken bits that are struggling to "make do". i see the darkened lifeless stares that come from empty souls. i see the walls that each of us build up to protect ourselves from being hurt. i see the mirrors that reflect all of our own insecurities back to us and forever torment our fragile minds. and i see the spark of hope that comes with accepting that there is nothing out there for me.

in opening myself up and expecting to be hurt, mistreated, and betrayed... i have freed myself from all the things that prevented action in the past. and while i have lost all faith in humanity, i have hope that love will find me one day and surprise me with a kiss.

the shattered pieces

2009-12-12T14:22:00.001-08:00

my heart is so broken i don't know what to do with myself

i thought, at one time, that if i could only just have X that i would finally be happy. then, i would get X and it would not be what i thought it was, so i decided that maybe it was Y that i really wanted... and so on and so forth. except that nothing ever made me happy.

i had a sort of a fight with a friend last night. and i was angry, so angry that i just wanted to throw my hands up and walk away from everything that i've been working at. and as much as i wanted to tell him exactly what was up, and how to fix the problem, i couldn't. i couldn't because i didn't know. and i didn't want to know. i ended up standing there on sunset boulevard, crying like an idiot.

i could not believe that, here was this guy that hardly knew me, holding me, and forcing me to look at him... telling me everything i didn't want to hear, poking at all the right things... reading me like a fucking open book. am i really that obvious? am i really that weak? when did this happen? how did i get here?

and as much as i hate him for it, i know that he is a friend. as true a friend as i could ever ask for...

it's always the ones that care about you that make you hurt in all the right ways, and force you to see things about yourself that you never ever want to see. sweep it under the rug and hope that no one notices. and it's a constant struggle between me trying to help other people face their issues, all the while i am running from mine. i feel that maybe, if i could save someone else that it would somehow absolve me of my sins.

my heart is broken. i don't know for how long. i don't remember when it was ever whole. maybe i was born defective... and my mother didn't get the recall notice. maybe i was born perfect, and to be perfect is to be this fucked up. i don't know. i don't know what to do about myself anymore.

and i fucking hate myself for allowing you in. i tell myself that it doesn't mean anything, the things that i say, the things that i do. i tell myself that it's okay to be used and abused... because somehow it will make it hurt less. because if i allowed it to happen, then it's somehow better than not wanting it and then it happening anyways.

what do you do when you realize that your entire life was a fraud? what do you do when you realize that all the illusions that you've built up around you have started to crack, and the crack is ripped and divided until all that lays around you is the shattered pieces and the truth staring you in the eyes? what do you do then?

the ties that bind

2009-11-16T02:16:00.001-08:00

It's been a very long while since I've blogged. Partially because I didn't have the mind to sit down and compose my thoughts in any coherent form, and partially because there's been a lot going on that I didn't particularly want floating around the internet.

The topic that has been dominating the past few weeks of my existence all point to matters of the heart-passion, loyalty, friendship, betrayal, and regret.
And love. Of course.

Once upon a time, I adopted the belief that it is better to regret something you have done, versus something you wished you had done. And there have been a few scenes of my past that stand out in the reel that constantly replays in my mind-regretful things that I am still ashamed of to this day.

Reconnecting with key characters from my past has allowed me to revisit some of these scenes and make the necessary emotional closure. It is always nice to find that those moments of mortifying humiliation of my youth are just mere blips in the reels of others that shared the stage.

So onwards I plow, tripping and falling along the way, carrying this heavy burden tied around my heart. Who says I need to be bound by it any longer? Who has condemned me to an eternity of loathsome self torture?

And even when I meet new faces and make new alliances, I still doubt that I am able to project the correct impression I've so carefully prepared for the world. Days and nights blend together and I question my sanity for continuously questioning "Does he like me?" "Did I do something to offend her?" "Did I make a good impression?" "Are they laughing at me behind my back?"

Into the depths of the darkest reaches of my morbid psychology.

What am I dedicating my life to chasing? And why am I going out of my way to appease the very people who have brainwashed me into thinking that I'm not good enough! Maybe I'm doing to myself. Maybe I've entangled myself into imaginary ropes. And maybe, just maybe, the noose around my neck which I feel tightening all the while is really just a slip knot that can very easily be loosened and slipped off my neck.

The devil's got a hold on me. Hand crushing the beating of my heart. Suffocating what life thumps its erratic patter, refusing to follow the beat of someone else's drums.

Change is Painful

2009-10-07T08:50:00.000-07:00

The universe fights against change. So many opposing forces fight to keep things just the way they are. Because if one electron leaves its proton then there is a gap in the space that used to be filled and a chain of reactions occur that takes ENERGY. The universe likes to conserve its energy, and in order to make change occur we must fight against the universe.

Change is painful. When we grow, bone, skin, muscle, and sinew stretch and tear. They reconfigure and redistribute. Pain is not necessarily a bad thing-not something to be avoided. Pain alerts us that we are alive and something is changing.

I am stuck, in a place where safety lives. It is so easy to sit back and wait for the perfect situation to get up and jump into the flow of things. Sometimes we are thrust into the flow unprepared and we must scramble and kick and scream just to stay afloat. It's kind of like entering a pool-jumping in is the best way to overcome the shock of the cold.

Good is the enemy of great. Great is the enemy of best. Tony Robbins said that when bad things happen to us, we grow from it. And in situations where we are doing well, we kind of just coast.

It's a scary situation to be faced with, when everything is comfortable and safe, to literally tear off the chains that keep me in this spot, keeping me comfortable... So that I can create change.

I am torturing myself. For a purpose. For a goal. Doesn't make it any less painful, but for once I shall embrace this pain and grow from it.

Expectations

2009-09-07T20:49:00.001-07:00

Ever go to a restaurant and order something cuz either 1) you've been craving it all weekend or 2) cuz it looks really good on the menu, and then when you get it and dig in, it doesn't taste the way you remembered or envisioned it tasting? Now you don't want to eat, you've lost your appetite and you just wanna go home but the waitress won't come back with your check... This is the story of my life.

It all comes down to expectations. False expectations.

There is the story of the fox who spied the grapes growing on the vines overhead. He thought immediately how deliciously juicy and sweet they were going to taste on that hot summer afternoon. So he strolled over and climbed the tree and reached to grab at them-just for them to be barely out of reach. The more he strained and tried and grabbed at the grapes, the more he became frustrated. For an hour he tried different angles, tried jumping from beneath, tried everything he could think of to get his little paws on thise juicy grapes.

When finally he resigned the task to be impossible, he mutters under his breath: "those grapes were probably sour anyway" and sulks away.

Why is life a disappointment to some and nothing but endless adventures for others? Why are we taught how things are "supposed" to be? If we did not enter into situations with expectations and treated each moment as genuinely new, what else would we see that we do not now? How much are we missing because we are not looking for it? How much have we missed because we haven't even tried to attempt it?

My life is passing my by at a fantastic rate. This wasn't what I had envisioned my life to be. This wasn't the fairy tale with the prince on white horse. This isn't my house. This isn't my car. This is not my face. This is not my life.

I have settled for something that was forced down my throat, thrust into my eardrums, and fed into my eyeballs by a constant stream of subliminal multimedia marketing. Where did the free choice go? And what do I do from here?

The road is open on all sides, and I take my next step in terror, and with no expectations. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Feelings

2009-08-30T12:38:00.001-07:00

They are a troublesome lot. They tend to get in the way of everything. What if we can just eradicate feelings?

There is this constant struggle between me, myself, and I. My heart feels one way, my brain thinks one way, the intuitively I know that there is something I'm not accounting for. Usually, I toss logic aside, ignore my better judgement and go with whatever FEELS good.

How I get myself into trouble like this!

music to my soul

2009-08-27T09:26:00.000-07:00

music has a very nostalgic property. it has an uncanny ability to transport you to another time, another place. i have enough bittersweet memories to fill an abyss. i like to torture myself by listening and re-listening to songs that acted as a soundtrack to those times in my life when things were a little more hectic, a little more painful, and a little more naive. it helps to reflect upon all the things that went wrong (and right) at that time, and to speak to my younger self, to pull her out of that dark place.

some people are naturally bright and cheery-optimistic enough to make you vomit. i never was. maybe some day i will be. maybe not.

the music one listens to speaks volumes about that person. why is it that i can meet a fellow fan of my favorite band-a world away-and instantaneously establish a bond so strong you'd think we've been friends since infancy? why is it that when a song pops on that is speaking of pain and heartache from a break-up, we can all relate to it? why is it that some music just pops and some falls flat on its face?

judging by what has been injected into our pop culture-the lack of stimulating lyrics, the same old snare-snare-bass beat, catchy chorus, and teeny bopper music video-i fear for the future of our humanity. as Dave Navarro commented recently, Stairway to Heaven would never have made it onto the radio if it were to have been released in present times.

what is happening to the evolution of expression? i am not a cookie cutter-mass produced-beautifully packaged consumable item. the music i like, you've most likely not even heard of. i hide in my shadow and i sulk in my head. i live and breathe to the pulse of the music electronically generated and mixed in someone's bedroom. the drum machine is the beat that powers my heart. don't let it die. please. don't let it go away.

The time that passes

2009-08-23T01:47:00.001-07:00

I haven't written in a while. Not just here, but in general. I'll go through spurts of being really creative and then some dry spells.

I wake up each morning and it is so easy to fall into the same routines as the day before: take a shower, get dressed for work, make breakfast, pack a lunch, work 9 hrs, come home, work out, work out some more, make/eat dinner, spend about 15 minutes of "real" time with Adam, fall asleep, do it all over again.

What happens to all that time? The time in between accomplishments-where does it go, and why does it seem to just get longer and farther apart?

The universe is speeding past me. And I am falling behind. Now is the time to fight. Fight harder and smarter. Fight to get things done, fight to overcome obstacles, fight to get to the top, and fight to stay there.

Where does the time go? And what will I do next?

remember that thing...

2009-08-17T13:05:00.000-07:00

I just realized that my last blog drifted away from my memory. It made me snicker because after going back and re-reading it, I literally was already past consciousness when I wrote it.

What else happens in my life that just slips away? Like the waves lapping at the shore, swallowing layers of sand. Like a tranquil rocking of a sailboat as you feel the breeze upon your face. Like the hypnotic rate of your breathing as it slows to the steady pace of sleep.

Wait. What was I saying again? LOL.

2009-08-14T18:45:00.001-07:00

There's something really funny about sleep. Your mind never sleeps, and your body doesn't necessary rest. I mean, if you are like me, and actively moving around all night- what makes sleep restful?

I was exhausted all this past week. I tried getting more sleep, to no avail. And the past two days, I've been sleeping less and waking up earlier and more awake. Trust me, I'm not a morning person. But I rather like getting into work early and having a sense of accomplishment by lunchtime.

I find myself rather useless for the first hour, however, as my mind is not fully "awake" and I move at half speed.

There's got to be some logic to it.

Why are some people morning people, and why are some people late night owls? Are our brains somehow wired differently? And how do you change it?

If I didn't need to sleep, I would love to just stay up all night and then go to work early at like 7am (to miss traffic).

On the flipside, it is so nice to cuddle up with my fluffy blanket, especially when it is cold, and just lay in bed having those adventurous dreams that sneak up every so often.

So, I know I'm babbling. I got up this morning 2 hours earlier than I normally do, and it is affecting my mood and ability to articulate thoughts.

A nap sounds good right about now, but then again, so does a double shot of espresso. One of these days I'll figure it out.

Pay me what I'm worth or GTFO

2009-08-07T00:09:00.001-07:00

Ever notice that the times you bend and feel sorry for someone-those times you hook up a friend or family member-those times you give a nice fat discount out of your commission... It feels like you've got "douchebag" written on your forehead? A long and difficult transaction lies ahead and you've just sold yourself short.

The problem really is that no one will pay you more than you think you are worth. And on top of that, people take kindness for weakness, so help you if you ever decide to let someone slide. You are selling yourself short and they WILL abuse the situation.

There is this deal that I'm working on where we are negotiating ways to "help each other out". It all sounds good, and in theory would be a win win for both parties. Except I can't help but to feel that I am the only sincere party in the transaction. The little bit of money I'd off the deal isn't worth the avalanche of drama and idiocy that I know is headed my way.

Call it instinct, or call it experience, but in my decade or so of sales experience it always seems like the ones who are negotiating over the silliest details are the ones that are going to be a headache.

I sold this guy an ad once for three months. The normal price is $400 a month, and I gave it to him for $1000 for all three months. So we agree to meet and take care of the paper work. We set a time, I get all dressed up and get my documents together to go meet him. Of course, as I'm on my way, he calls me to tell me that he's going to be 15 minutes late. I'm only 5 minutes away and it takes me 15 minutes to get there from my office. Of course I'm going to wait for him-no big deal.

30 minutes later he shows up. (Red flag number 1-no respect for my time).

And we go over all the details of the transaction as we had agreed upon on the phone. Now, he doesn't want to pay up front. He wants me to print it and THEN he'll pay me, after the services are rendered and there's nothing I can really do if he decides to screw me. (Red flag number 2)

I say no. He needs to pay up from at least for the first month.

Now, he wants a discount if he provides the artwork. I'm already willing to do the artwork for free, but he wants to penny pinch. So $1000 becomes $900.

So on and so forth, I think I remember that we were negotiating over like $25 dollars or something retarded at the end.

Needless to say, I was down to my last drop of patience when he finally signs the agreement and cuts me a check.

Of course, I go and cash it immediately only to find insufficient funds.

I've already invested over an hour in this ordeal so I just suck it up and call him. He apologizes and promises me that the funds will be there the next day.

His check did finally clear but he was a pain in the ass, and I didn't bother trying to renew him when his contract was up.

Another time, I had a guy give me a bad check as a deposit for graphical artwork services, and like an idiot, I started the work in good faith that the check would clear. He was a pastor at the local church, and they're supposed to be good upstanding citizens, right? (I'm such a gullible douche sometime.)

Then once I discovered his check was no good, after I had already given him artwork, he had the nerve to tell me "I'm not happy with the design and I want you to make changes before I'll make good on our original agreement to pay you in the first place". (What an ass!)

On the flipside, I had a client once who not only paid me the full 6% commission to list his house (the going rate was 5% at the time) He did everything I advised him to do during the transaction and then ended up giving me a $5000 bonus when I sold his house for $75,000 over his asking price. That was a stress-free transaction and I wish there were more of those out there.

Point is, I'm not a greedy person, but whenever I try to be "nice" to someone, I always end up paying for it with drama and headaches.

I should really be more of a hardcore bitch at work. Then I would be happy to serve you, cuz I wouldn't be taken advantage of all the goddamn time!

Where does it go?

2009-08-02T01:45:00.001-07:00

I spent the whole day, and a good part of last night, reformatting my computer. I've been meaning to do so for the better part of the last three months. It's not like I'm an uber tech-geek, it's just that I managed to pick up a bug when I was downloading freeware.

The actual process of reformatting a computer is not difficult at all-put the recovery disc in and reboot from disc. What takes forever and a day is backing up stuff and then re-installing everything once the computer has been restored to factory condition.

I wrote in a previous blog post that I had been forced to get an external harddrive about 6 months ago. That means it hasn't even been 6 months and I have to reformat again. And in that short period of time, I managed to not only fill up THAT 500GB harddrive, but also another 360GB mini drive I bought just to hold my music.

I couldn't figure out what the heck was taking up all that space on the 500GB one so I decided to go through and start opening up folders.

Well, turns out that after I set up the HD to sync, it was duplicating back-up copies so I had 4 copies of all my files at various points of time.

I literally went through each file, making sure that I kept the most recent, and only one of each.

So, roughly seven hours after starting the reboot process, I am finally done-all that's left is to reload my massive music library back onto my iTunes, and hope to god that I don't wake up tomorrow realizing that I had deleted something vital.

analysis paralysis

2009-07-27T22:47:00.000-07:00

There's five billion things going on in my head at the speed of light; I am stuck with my mouth half open with that not so bright look on my face. Something was said. Something vague. Something that I have taken to mean all different variations of what the real meaning is.

It could have been as simple as "is this normal?" And I'll ask myself:

a) what "this" was being referred to

b) IS this normal?

c) what is the standard of normal"

d) is it normal in the practical every day situation?

e) is it normal for the circumstances that we are standing in right now?

AAACCCKKK! I know, I'm such a head case. Basically I over-analyzed the situation and my brain got stuck on stupid.

A case of analysis paralysis is when there is a brain overload and it stops you from taking action. The action may not even be anything big or difficult. In computer terms, it would be the equivalent of opening multiple programs before the computer has properly booted, and now the processor doesn't know which task to give priority to and freezes.

A common case of analysis paralysis might be when you are starting a project. And you start to jot down all the components of the project, and get stuck because there are too many "options" and you don't know which to go with. A lot of projects never get started, and you end up just being frustrated.

At least, I do.

There are some of us out there who maybe process information differently than you. Maybe we internalize EVERYTHING and have whole conversations in our head in the split second it took you to take a breath in between your sentences. If you come across someone like me, who analyzes the guts out of every minute detail, please give us just a little bit of space. Because I assure you that pressuring us to respond when our brain is stalling is just going to make us worse.

And if you are like me, and tend to over-analyze everything, sometimes it helps to just take a deep breath and go: "okay, what was again?" And take it step by step from the beginning.

That tastes like ass

2009-07-26T05:43:00.000-07:00

I've been pretty much on a gluten free diet-not because I'm allergic or anything, but I learned that your body naturally has a difficult time digesting wheat, barley, and rye products.

We found out that Adam has a gluten sensitivity about 4 months ago, and I thought I was going to have the hardest time preparing foods for him. Gluten free encompasses all breads, pastas, most cereals, and cakes and cookies etc.

Being the fat-ass that I am, and loving to bake as one of my favorite pastimes, the introduction of Adam's new "condition" was not a welcomed one. I've done the whole "no carb" diet before and I knew that it takes your body about 2 weeks to physically overcome the withdrawal symptoms. Luckily, we weren't doing "no carb" so the withdrawals were not so bad.

The few things that we can still incorporate into the diet include potatoes and rice. For the average gluten-intolerant diet, one can also have corn flour. But Adam has an adverse reaction to corn products as well.

So it's been well over 3 months that I've been 95% gluten free.

I JUST had a bowl of Korean ramen. It's been a while and I craved it for some odd reason. It tasted good while I was eating it, but not more than 5 minutes after I was done with my "midnight snack" did I notice an immediate energy drop (a.k.a. food coma) and the strangest aftertaste in my mouth.

Seriously, that tasted like ass. I won't be doing that again!

dragging my feet

2009-07-25T23:46:00.000-07:00

Ever find yourself faced with a task that you just dread? And the more you think about it, the more ominous it becomes.

If there is a deadline, you wait until the last possible moment to start it. It there isn't a deadline, you just brush it aside pretending that it doesn't exist, until it just gnaws at your soul, begging to get done.

Weeks and days and hours you stress, hoping that you can recruit someone to help you with it (i.e. do it for you). Maybe it will just miraculously sort itself out.

And then once you muster up enough energy to finally start on the damn thing, all of a sudden it's done.

That wasn't so bad. Why did you torture yourself by procrastinating in the first place?!

This is me. I struggle with myself constantly. Some people are wired so that the moment something comes up, they finish it with time to start and then have extra time reserved to do side projects. I just was never one of those people.

Lately I've been questioning, what IS it that I'm hiding from? I mean, I know that if I just DO it, that I'll be happier and it's probably not so bad to begin with. Yet, I still catch myself procrastinating.

If you figure it out, could you let me know?

back it up girl!

2009-07-23T23:27:00.000-07:00

Okay, that was a lame play on words. but seriously. Back your shit up.

This past week alone I have had 3 different friends say that they almost lost their data on their phones, and one girl actually did. None of them had any backup file of their phone data.

I mean, maybe I'm just a little more technically inclined, but if you're gonna keep every piece of information you can possibly collect: phone number, photos, email addresses, birth dates, and god forbid your online passwords all in one electronic device, have the mind to back it up.

That also goes for your computer data too. It's so inexpensive to purchase an external hard drive these days that you should slap yourself if you computer is ever wiped out by a virus and you don't have some sort of back up system set up.

That actually happened to me once: It was literally the day before my print deadline for my newspaper, I have ALL the client files, credit card authorizations, graphic files, and my newspaper layouts in my hard drive. I caught a virus that was attacking Microsoft. I couldn't burn anything to disc. I couldn't print anything. I could get through about 5 minutes of Illustrator work before the shit would just reboot itself. I was about to cry.

Luckily the geeks at Fry's suggested that I buy an external hard drive that is at least the same size as my hard drive. Back all the files up, and then reformat my computer.

I got lucky. If I would have lost those files, I would literally have been out of business.

So, as reliant as advanced as technology has become, it can't do you any good if you don't use it.

If you have uber important files that you just cannot live without, consider purchasing server space at an off site location. Buy and set up an external harddrive to automatically sync with your computer. And sync your stuff at least once a week. (Or once a day if you're constantly changing and editing your files.)

For the few minutes you'll invest every week, it is totally worth it.

common sense as a commodity

2009-07-23T10:42:00.000-07:00

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ynews/ynews_pl832 <--- article talking about politicians not knowing what is considered "appropriate" use of Twitter

There was an article a few months back about some jury member being sued one of the companies that was on trial because he tweeted some opinion about the verdict.

In any case, I'm not famous. I'm not a politician. And I'm not some douche in the jurybox tweeting about how I'm giving away tens of thousands of dollars to some undeserving woman... Still I use just a little bit of prudence when I post shit. Granted, if you see my twitter account you probably think I'm letting it all hang out. (I'm not.)

When I first started toying with the idea of using social media as a networking resource for my professional persona, I really wanted to keep my personal side and work side separated. I see that while theoretically a good it deal, it is impossible in practice. That's why I had the multiple accounts set up.

Then I got my Facebook account and got a friend request from my father. I was really faced with the question of "what do I want the world to see me as?" I mean, everyone has multiple personalities. The one that they show the world at large, the one they show their circle of friends, the one they show their co-workers, and the one they show their lover. Even still... there's the one that hides inside, the voice in the head that will blurt out random inappropriate comments if common sense did not force you to bite your tongue.

That's the one that I think needs a little bit of work.

When posting little bits and pieces, especially on a forum such as Twitter, it may feel safe and private. But the fact is, millions of people have access to these little bits and pieces at the speed of your internet connection.

I posted a silly fun picture last night with my sister, we were goofing off with our stuffed animals. In the time it took my blackberry to refresh and for me to show her the tweet, there were already 7 views! I mean, that was literally 2 seconds. And within the next 30 seconds, my little tweet had 42 views!

I only have about 400 twitter followers. I bet that only half of them are real people. So with 200 or so followers, I got 42 views in roughly 30 seconds. Imagine if I was someone like Arnold Schwarzenegger with 733,354 followers...

So here's my thought. Just because you have a computer and know how to open up a web page, doesn't mean that you know HOW to use the internet. Just because you have a Twitter account doesn't mean that you know HOW to tweet properly.

Be careful what you post-on your twitter, on your myspace, on your facebook. Even on an email with your information stamped on it... If it is in writing or somehow in a tangible form that may be passed on, be careful what that little voice in your head decides to blurt out. Cuz you REALLY don't know who's gonna see it.

not so private after all

2009-07-21T23:26:00.000-07:00

I was having an extended conversation with my friend today about famous people and their information. We both are privy to some contact information of some pretty well known celebrities. We both have Blackberries and guess where that information is stored? ...right, in the address books.

Now, I don't password protect my phone just because it would be an utter annoyance every single time I need to access something on this little handheld computer. I probably should, out of respect for those people whose contact information may be abused if it were to fall into the wrong hands.

Remember when Paris Hilton lost her Blackberry? Well, I don't have THAT many cool contacts in my phone, but from what I heard, a lot of celebrities ended up having to change their phone numbers that week.

So what do I do? Well, for one thing, I don't make a fuss about who I know and who I have access to. Secondly, I don't exactly enter each person under their given name in my phone.

Why am I ranting on about this? Because I feel very protective of my privacy and I would hate it if some of YOU out there had vital information prominently stored in your smart phones and cell phones and were to lose it. I am putting myself in the other person's shoes. (Rare, I know)

Another tip, if you are like me and have multiple accts on your phone with login info stored on the phone, in the case that you ever DO lose your phone, go and change all your information!

Yea. That's about it.

Michael Jackson is dead

2009-07-21T01:27:00.000-07:00

There was a techno song in the 90's that said "James Brown is dead". Do you remember it?

I grew up worshiping Michael Jackson. I had pretty much every single and LP that I could get my hands on, wrote and illustrated a book about him when I was 10 yrs old, did impressions of him for silly school functions, and even had the "Jam" single cover painted as a mural on my bedroom wall.

It wasn't "cool" to be a Michael Jackson fan back then. I got teased a lot because whenever people made a joke about how queer he was and all sorts of hurtful shit, I would defend his honor to the best of my ability. It wasn't much, but I did it and took a lot of it personally.

After HIStory came out and he had those accusations for the first time, he went into hiding. And I outgrew my obsession.

A few weeks ago I was sitting at my office when the of the girls got a text from her father. She looked at me and said "oh my god, Michael Jackson is dead."

It was kind of weird to me because I was completely neutral to the whole thing. And then it started, all the "devoted fans" coming out of the woodworks from all angles, and all the haters with their tasteless jokes. As the days passed, I got offended. I mean REALLY offended.

First off, where were all these so-called die-hard fans a week ago? If they were so devoted, why did MJ have to go into hiding? Why did no one stick up for him all those years when there was absolutely positive about him in the media? Why did everyone forsake him?

And secondly, a man just passed away. How can anyone think it is in good taste to make jokes about him when the body is still warm in the coroner's office?!

I was appalled. As all the memories of all the childhood teasing flooded back into the forefront of my consciousness. All those associated memories of less than pleasant times I had growing up, struggling with myself to find comfort in my own skin. I didn't want to see, hear, talk about, or remember Michael Jackson. And most importantly, I didn't want to stand by and bite my tongue as insensitive assholes desecrated his memory. Even if you don't like him, give just a tiny bit of respect for a dead man and STFU if you so feel compelled to open your mouth and share a tasteless joke.

So here it is. Michael Jackson is dead, and I was forced to face a part of me that had been long buried and forgotten. And it wasn't so bad. I had outgrown the sadness, I had somehow in all this twisted demented shit come out stronger and finally found an ounce of peace. Rest in Peace Michael. May you finally be free of your demons.

I'm sat here waiting

2009-07-19T21:59:00.000-07:00

I just listened to the July 8th episode of Dark Matter with Todd Newman, Jessica Sattelberger and David Faustino. One of the topics they touched upon was "which same-sex celebrity would you sleep with".

Now, here's an interesting conversation I was having just the other day about finding attraction in people. Mostly, I am not physically attracted to people. Meaning, that if there is someone I find attractive, it's usually not because of their physical appearance.

Take Trent Reznor for instance. Very unconventionally attractive, not for his looks, but for the aura he possesses when he is performing. Some non-NIN-fans would even call him ugly. I was never one to fawn over his muscles or his ass, like so many of my friends. What really gets me is his voice and the intensity contained within it.

Frank Kramer is another example of someone that I do not find physically attractive but love listening to.

Other attributes may be a mannerism the person possesses. For example, Derren Brown has the most intensely adorable giggle and smirk. David Tennant has the most melodious hypnotic way with words. (Not to mention the loveliest of accents.)

Let's see, who else do I find to have attractive features... Hmm...

There was a scene in Eagle Eye with Shia LaBeouf when his character walks into his brother's memorial service. He started crying, and that moment stole my heart.

Confidence is highly attractive as well- confidence, bordering on arrogance.

On the flip side, if I find someone physically attractive and then find out they have a putrid personality, that will totally kill it for me.

Now, for my same-sex celebrity picks: Natalie Portman, Scarlett Johansson, and Jessica Biel. Why? Cuz they are HAWT! :P

it's soooooo hot!

2009-07-19T14:26:00.000-07:00

104F in the Valley. Not a good time to have to gas up... Gasoline is sold by volume, not density.

I wept a little

2009-07-19T01:48:00.000-07:00

I went and saw The Proposal, a cheesy romantic comedy with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds. I knew inevitably that there would be a sappy happy ending, yet I cried in all the appropriate bits when the evil witch showed vulnerability and the mistreated assistant (played by Reynolds) stood up for her time and time again.

It begs the question: am I really a hopeless romantic? Somewhere deep beneath all the cynicism do I still somehow wish that Prince Charming will sweep me off my feet! Or do I cry because I know that that's not how things happen in real life and I am so overwhelmed by sadness that my eyes cannot contain my tears?

Sometimes when I want something so badly, and I know within all rationality that I have no business wanting it, I do convince myself that I don't care and that it's not a big deal.

And then little silly triggers such as this movie will release the wells of teardrops just seeping beneath the surface. I cry because words just cannot describe what I feel. I cry because need to let some of the pressure release before I blow. I cry because there is a bit of comfort and familiarity there. And I cry because there's nothing else to do.

Then when I'm done, I wipe away the tears and I'm my happy smiling self again.

Maybe there ARE happy endings sometimes. And I just need to find mine.

Racoon

2009-07-18T04:45:00.000-07:00

I got back at about 3:00am and saw a pair of eyes peeking from behind the bush in front of my house. Reflecting in the glare of my headlights, was this beautiful racoon just hanging out.

I thought that maybe he would be scared by my approaching car and dart away, but he just hung out meandering around on my lawn digging and picking around for something to nibble on.

I wasn't sure how to proceed and Adam warned that if the racoon got startled that he might attack me. Shit. I was quite helpless as there was not a flashlight in my car.

I sat there for the better part of half an hour trying to decide how to get into the house without being attacked by the beast. I even tried turning my car around the cul-de-sac so that my headlights might encourage him to run off. Nope, the little guy was not even scared of me when I stepped outside and waved around like an idiot trying to shoo him away.

Finally, as he strolled towards my back door, I made my way quickly to my front door and struggled in a rush to unlock the gate. Finally, safe inside my house, I turned on the porchlight and came back out armed with a MagLight. I shined the flashlight into the little monster's eyes and called out to Adam to come look. My voice and the light must have scared him cuz he then scurried across our yard into the neighbor's territory. Why didn't I think of that earlier?!

Well, another minor crisis averted. Call me paranoid, but those little fuckers will bite the shit out of you if you're not careful. And the last place I wanted to end up was in the ER getting Rabies Shots.

aaannd...

2009-07-18T01:26:00.001-07:00

Testing from my phone.

once upon a time...

2009-07-18T00:55:00.001-07:00

i wanted to start a blog. the original idea was to start it under my own domain name, but then once i bought the name, i had no idea where to start. so here i am. with absolutely nothing to say.