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| here i am, back again when i need something from you - looking at old posts for ideas on what to write about for the first day of class (orientation technically) next weekend. i volunteered to bring something in first as usual, because it's an easy way to open yourself to a class of strangers, get graded a tad easier, and earn the admiration of your professor (he literally called me fabulous (he's rather flaming)). i dont know what to expect from my fellow students, but i'm feeling confident that i can do this grad school thing. i just can't decide what to write about right now. i'm telling myself the first piece is kind of crucial so i've ruled out a few topics i'd like to write about but want to save for later. it'll take a few days of mulling and stream of consciousness journaling until i find the appropriate one. i'm really drawn to writing about a long time ago, like a cleveland story (it's an autobiographical course) but a lot will have to be made up because i can't remember those so well. i have such vivid images and emotions attached to my time in ohio, but i've never written about anything from, say, after 8th grade unless it's something that's happening to me right now. i wonder where all those high school and even early college days went, and why i might as well have no lived during that period. it was so simply defined by looking like a lesbian, being obsessed with music, and studying. maybe once enough time has elapsed (aka i've forgotten everything) i'll remember it fondly like i do now with ohio. i want to write about the first house (apt) i lived in...a wretched place that was falling apart, in a bad neighborhood, and yet a place that feels like the homiest place i've ever lived. there is no plot i can really associate with this idea yet, so i'm not sure. would a lengthy plotless mood piece work or should i kill myself trying to think of a specific anecdote to structure it within?
christ's sake, i'm listening to bright eyes like i'm in 10th grade or something. he is absurd.
i have a new friend who is so lovely and nice. she was listening to him because her ex boyfriend liked him and last week, out of nowhere when she came from a week-long trip, he broke up with her for rather unclear reasons. i doubt they were clear to him, since it's so easy to deceive yourself. they had been together for two and a half years and she had gone a bit crazy the week after the break up. she was listening to "it's cool, we can still be friends" which i have but never really heard until now. i kind of get where she's coming from, cause it must be such a heart wrenching thing to listen to yet somehow you feel like it'll actually help, in a masochistic way. anyway, i'm in a similar situation as her right now. freakishly similar. | | |
| many things happening.
it's a wonderful life | | |
| as i type this i'm still nodding at my mom who has been rambling on and on about people and her self-therapy and god knows what else. it's been at least half an hour that she's been going on while i surf the net and i have not said a single word. crazy. but i guess old people have license to do that. she just said some chinese proverb about your stomach containing a ship. that was one thing that caught my attention. a lot of my granparents are sick and perhaps terminally so that sucks. i applied to grad schools the other day. my parents' house is making me feel sad and old and i can't wait to go to berkeley (i've been spending so much of break alone with her since my dad's away and every minute is a constant struggle to be patient, not upset her, still try to communicate with the few safe subjects we have left like food and gossip about other people. i promise those are the only things we can talk about because you know my penchant for groups of threes but i couldn't think of anything else to finish that trifecta. i am trying to be really good which means being really quiet most of the time which is my natural demeanor. except i hate it because i always wanted to be a vibrant loud person but it is never an option. wow i thought it'd be nice to write this but it's just making me more unhappy) | | |
| on the long BART ride home today (which was early because i skip class and blame senioritis nowadays) a handsome blind, black guy came on and then a cute asian lady came on after him with a seeing-eye dog.
guy: is that you ms. f----?
lady: yes...
guy: hey it's j----!
lady: hi how are you!
guy: good, haven't seen you in ages!
*me and everyone within earshot collectively repress the urge to laugh out loud* | | |
| i was a good daughter today. and she was a good mother. we went to san francisco to renew our passports and during the five hours we didn't get into any tiffs! except against the really mean life/people/fun-hating lady who worked there. i believe in us. afterwards we hung out in japantown and ate a ton of korean food (because the poor korean ppl in sf don't have their own town so they kind of flitter around the area) and went to the market so i could get some japanese mayonnaise<--those words make quite a cute couple.
since i'm still getting over the virus and my nose is stuffy, i get nightmares every night and then just wake up and can't fall asleep anymore. i'm almost better but i just have a sleep-deprivation headache. and dark circles around my eyes since september. but fuck! last night i had a weird distopian dream where the government was made of art elitists who required everyone to paint something for the gallery, where life revolved around. people who were too lame at painting had to pose for a painting or participate in some way. and all we did every day was wander around the galleries learning about art. and the creepiest thing was that there were a few "difficult" paintings that would refuse to stay still. like, in one picture, one of the faces was facing the left and no matter how many times the painter changed it, the face would snap back to look in that direction. the painter even tried painting a face seperately and gluing it to the painting but it didn't work. also this one guy's face would never be the correct shade of white, like it would keep getting darker throughout the day. anyway i was a lot more disturbed by it in my dream. there was also performance art and this guy in a harness flying into the sky towards a bright star. suddenly it was like everyone was in workout gear and the world turned into an obstacle course and now everyone was obsessed with the olympics and getting athletic. this is obviously a lot scarier to me than being trapped in an art gallery because i panicked and woke.
the night before that, i was in the yard with my dad and his friend and his friend's cat. they were talking and the cat would not stop bothering me, like scratching me, jumping on me, trying to molest me, etc. so i decide to go back inside and it takes me hours to get their attention to ask them if they could get the cat off of me while i run away. they dont take me seriously and before i can make it into the house, my dad lets the cat go and it flies across the yard onto my arm and continues abusing me. so i finally woke up in the middle of strangling/throwing the cat.
i'm sure i lost my loyal readers (the two of you) with this post. | | |
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