I'm in a weird headspace at the moment, so just bare with me. I finally finished reading the book Eat, Pray, Love--and, if you've seen the movie, please disregard it for the purposes of this blog post.

It needs to be said that I almost always get into a strange headspace/mood after I've finished a book (the exceptions being textbooks and the like). I think, though, that my book read, that is, fiction reading, process is a bit strange. When I pick up a book, I skim the back cover/inside of the dust jacket to see if it's something I could get into/want to read. If I'm in a bookstore, I may even read the beginning pages just to see it's style and characters. If I'm sold on it, I'll buy it.

And then, at some point in my reading, usually when I'm just about getting a feeling for the characters and the storyline--right when I'm starting to feel invested in the book and have decided how I would like things to end... I skip to the back of the book and read the last few pages or last chapter, or the epilogue.

Why would you do that?

Many people have asked me this.

But I have always been this way, I think. Movies and books and the like are never "spoiled" for me by knowing the ending. If someone has seen a movie before hand, and we are discussing the points of the movie, I always say, "you can go ahead and tell me the ending, it's not gonna spoil it for me." Because it doesn't. I think the process of getting to an ending is more exciting, often, than the ending itself. And I just like to know. Especially if there's a romantic twist to the story. I like to know that the characters I'm getting invested in are going to give me the ending I want haha.

Anyway, with books, whenever I get towards their end, I always get a bit sentimental--it's even worse though, when it's a book I've thoroughly enjoyed. It's so bittersweet. I can't wait to get to the ending, although I know how the end will play out, and yet I also get sad that I'm almost there.

I catch myself reading slower, drawing out the sentences, the paragraphs, the pages. I let passages stew in me longer, let ideas bounce in my head longer. Wanting to hold on to this story, this unfinished relationship just that much longer. But inevitably it happens. Despite all my hesitation, all my reluctance, I do, finally, reach the end.

It's over. Finished. DUNZO.

And I'm happy it's over; I'm happy I saw it through to the end; happy that I have a new friend to add to my collection. But I'm also sad, as if I've been on a journey with this person as my guide, but they've now taken me as far as they can, so now they have to say their farewells, departing from me and letting me go on by myself. Like all relationships, I'm glad for the time spent together, but I understand that I can't stay with them always and forever.

Today I finished Eat Pray Love. I really enjoyed the book. Without saying too much, I would just like to note that it was exactly the kind of book that I needed in exactly the time that I've read it. It resonated with me a lot more than I thought it would. True, I'm not yet in my thirties, nor have I ever been married (not even close), nor have I experienced the trauma of a divorce...

But I think I was going through my own struggles, watching my own worldview shift in ways unknown to me this year. I carried this book with me to the banks of the Schuylkill river, where I sat eating cake and crying until the sun came down.

Like I said, I think this book came to me in the time that I could appreciate it best. It touches on subjects that are common to the human experience, which is why it was just so relatable. Part of the reason why it took me so long to finish, especially when I was reading it in Philadelphia, was that I kept having to pause, to reflect, to process.

Anyway, anyone else have any strange reading habits? Or am I the only one who likes to skip to the end?

to infinity and beyond!

My first post of 2011.

I want to wish you all a belated new years. I hope you rang in the new year with great pomp and circumstance!

This is all a little late, but the holidays never leave me with much time, so now that it's all over, I want to share a few reflections.

2010 was so good to me. I loved and loss. I visited London for the first time! I went back to Paris! I finished my thesis! I graduated with my Masters! I went to Philadelphia! I got my butt kicked at UPenn and by Greek. I applied to teach in S. Korea. I laughed a lot. I cried some. I hugged and made small talk. I ran with my arms stretched out.

I came back home and have been idle. Or, I suppose I am taking a much needed break. My days are everything and anything I want them to be. As great as that is, I think I'm finally ready to get back to doing something productive. I enjoy a certain amount of routine in my day. And ultimately, when nightfall hits, I want to be able to think that I've been productive. I know that there are a lot of ways to measure productivity, and it's not just about being able to pat myself on the back for having checked off all the things on my daily "to-do" list, that there are innumerable ways to be productive, everyday. I understand this, cognitively, at least. But I remain, at heart, a person who loves to make to-do lists, loves to see things checked off of them, and that is how I measure my productivity. As sad as it is, reading 60 pages in a book, sure makes me feel good that I've made progress, but I didn't finish the book. Thus, I can't cross it off my list, and that doesn't make me feel good. It's sad, but there it is, nonetheless.

Like I said, I'm ready to start actually "doing" things again.

This, however, puts me between a rock and a hard place, because while I would love to start getting back to, I dunno, working for a living, I am still, waiting to hear back about whether or not I have a future living in South Korea. This is driving me crazy, because it forces me to live in a sort of limbo. I would just like to know, to have an answer, whatever the decision may be. Because then I could actually start to do something, start to plan for the rest of the year.

On that note, I've been thinking a lot about the direction of my life. It may be because it was the end of the year, and at the ending of the year I'm always forced to take stock of my life, for all it's good and bad, and of course, face my own mortality. I'm 25 years old now. And as misguided as it this notion is, mostly because it was formulated when I was much younger and much more susceptible to the brainwashing that happens when being socialized in school, but I sort of thought that I should have been a grown up by now. That I would have a "real" job and a "real" house and a "real" relationship. --oh gag me -- and it's not that I believe in any of that now, especially the relationship part, but sometimes, just sometimes I wonder just where it is that my life is heading.

I mean, I have all this "education" and all this "life experience" and yet, I'm not really doing much. Nothing really for the betterment of the world/humankind, nothing really to share anything with others about what I've been able to ascertain from the world, not sharing my time to make any sort of positive impact. I know that the answer is that if I am so worried about it, then I should just do something about it, but let me be just a tab bit more specific.

I'm struggling to discover how to make my life meaningful in the greater scheme of things. Beyond just myself, and my closed circuit of friends. Is my life doomed to be a series of fragments, ultimately fleeting, inherently transparent and temporal? With nothing weighty to ground me? WIth my life having no true purpose? No true meaning?

But then again, why is it that I believe that having a life of fragments means less? What's wrong with being temporal, if, in reality, that is hat my life truly is?

So you see my dilemma.

Perhaps this a response to my own mortality? I couldn't argue that it isn't. That wanting my life to mean something somehow makes it worth something, and that I can somehow transcend the bounds of my own physical life.

Still something I'm struggling with.

For now, let me end with some resolutions for the year:

1) cultivate a more meaningful prayer life.

2) learn korean.

3) be healthy.

did anyone else make resolutions? I'm curious to know. Anyway, that's it for me, for now. Happy 2011!!!! (doesn't that sound like we should be driving around in spaceships and/or teleporting?!?) :D

Ooh, HARRY!

Jumped on a scale today for the first time in forever.

saw something horrific.

jumped off scale & cried a bit under my covers.

That's it. I need to re-vamp my health.

(and, fyi: "ooh, harry" is my friend's 2 year old son's way of saying : "ooh, SCARY.")

that is all.

Teaching Chops

There's something that I've been thinking about a lot lately, and I still don't really know the answer to this conundrum. I wonder if I've got the chops to make it as a teacher...or even if I should be teaching in the first place.

Let me get this out of the way first: this is not about me doubting if I'm smart enough. Like, please. Okay that sounded way too egotistical. What I meant was that I learned a long time about that standing in front of a classroom doesn't necessarily mean you are smarter than everyone else who is sitting down. Far from it, in some cases. But I don't necessarily think that is a bad thing. If you don't know something fess up & turn it into a learning experience. Being in front of the classroom doesn't mean you have all the answers. That's not what teaching is supposed to be about.

The less ego you have in the classroom, the better.

Which is why I'm concerned.

Am I the only one cracking up at my lame jokes? Okay then, I'll stop.

The real reason why I'm concerned, is that I may not have a thick enough skin. The first semester I taught was kind of like HELL ON EARTH for me. I literally woke up in the morning dreading having to go to work. I would countdown the minutes until the end of the period...sometimes just letting them go early because I didn't want to have to deal with them anymore. I hated trying to plan things for class that I knew they wouldn't take seriously & by the end, I didn't care anymore either.

On a personal level, it was such a shock to see the sexism/ageism that happened. Fighting to get people to respect me and what I had to say was harder because I was younger & a girl. I as astounded to see that what I had to say meant less because it came out of my mouth.

And of course, I've always been one to take things personally. When students do poorly, I internalize it. When students dont do what I ask of them, I think its a reflection of me and my teaching skills. When students fail, I take it as my own personal failure.

I can't help it.

As I think about where my life is headed, I see teaching sort of on the horizon--whether it be here in the states or in korea. But teaching was never something that I imagined for myself. As me 3 years ago, 10 years ago, 20 years ago (omg I sound so old), what I wanted to do when I grew up, and teaching was never ever even a consideration.

And so I can't help but think, am I doing this because it makes the most sense? Instead of seizing an opportunity, am I just taking what's handed to me?

Because teachers, I feel, should want to teach. We've all had them. Teachers who should have never become teachers, but somehow are--and you can tell they hate teaching. Some will even own up to it. So how did they find themselves there?

I don't want to be one of those people.

Teaching is hard. It's not glamorous. It's rough. It's time consuming. It's taxing on your nerves, sanity, and emotions.

I also know its about developing a thick skin. By the second semester that I taught, I felt like I was more equipped to deal with students--its not that I was necessarily a better teacher, but that I maybe cared less, which sounds horrible. I cared less in the sense that I didn't let every little thing bother me. Because before I'd lose sleep over my students and my class. I'd stay up for hours, processing and agonizing every little thing that I had done wrong or had gone wrong. That second semester, I cared less. I had to, for my personal sanity.

And I can't also help but wonder, if it's so difficult for me now... how much worse in another country where I don't know the language?

On another note: apparently my documents all cleared in korea... I'm just waiting for my contract to be sent back to me. Any day now EPIK. any day now.

Also, I think I've made my new year's resolution for 2011-20112 (does that sound futuristic or anyone else? and by that I mean, we should be all flying our own spaceships & have our personal time machines?): learn korean. this resolution may extend for 2013 and beyond.

& note to self: get your butt back to learning korean. bc you marrying G-Dragon, TOP and Taeyang is not gonna happen with you only knowing english. kthxbai.

December Nights (& Days)

^All the things I'm enjoying about *WINTER* in San Diego. Tonight, I'm going to December Nights at one of my favorite places in SD: Balboa Park. Its a 2-day festival of lights and food--but there's also art, music, and general merriment to be had. Can not wait!

Welcome December

What is with this year and me having to make all these grown up decisions about my life? First, it was the decision of what to do after I graduated (move to Philly to attend UPENN). Second it was the decision to quit UPenn & move back home. Third, it was the decision to throw caution to the wind and head to Korea to try and make it as a english teacher there. And now comes the wrench to foil all of my Korea plans-- the local community colleges are hiring in both HUMANITIES & HISTORY. Great. The thing that I'd hope would come to me AFTER I got back from Korea...happens to me before I get there.

So now I have to choose between Korea and my "career." Or, in another sense, I'm standing at the crossroads between being a slightly irresponsible 20something, and a full fledged grown up. Damn you 25 for being so in-between. Do I choose my one last hurrah--quite possibly the last time I'll ever have in my life to just pack up and go anywhere? or do I buckle down and do what's more stable for me in the long run?

Everyone keeps telling me that Korea can wait. That it'll always be there. But I disagree. Because once you're locked into a career--and the teaching positions are TENURE TRACK so I'd be locked in for the next few years--you can't just pick up at go. As you get older, it gets harder to do. That's why a lot of people don't go. They wait until they've made a little bit more money, they've been at their jobs just that much longer, until they've paid off the house, car, children's tuition. Before they know it, they've left that moment of carefree going for when they've retired.

I don't want that. I don't think I could stand the wait.

But at the same time, I can't ignore the fact that this opportunity is a rare thing. I've been watching out for something to open up for the past 2 years.

I'm just going to apply & see what happens. I will try & not just throw together some BS application. But I'm also terribly scared for the outcome. I'm half in agony.

I am a WANDERER.

I forgot to post this up on this blog. My friend Sonya, via her platonic boyfriend, sent me a link & what I found therein was just uncanny. Here's an excerpt:

I am writing to you because I'm about to make a pretty drastic decision in my life. To me, it's not that big of a deal. Maybe because I'm dead set on doing it, I've got blinders on so I can't see the bad in my decision. Maybe it's because I love the thought of the unknown. But others seem to think I'm crazy.

I'm quitting my job and moving abroad to hopefully find a job teaching English in Europe.

Read: I AM A WANDERER, since you asked.

(would you look at that. two posts in two days!)

You know I Must Be Happy

...because I'm neglecting this blog.

It's true though. If you look at my archives, the months I have the most posts are because I'm miserable. So I just come here and rant shamelessly. But when I get happy, I ignore my blog.

I'm sorry, blog, you deserve better.

There's nothing especially happy to report, its just an overall feeling of happiness now that I'm at home. Little things I used to take for granted about living in San Diego, and in California in general, I'm trying to make up for--especially since we've been enjoying an extended summer. I think I hit more beaches in San Diego in the 3 weeks I've been back, in November mind you, than I have in the last 10 years of living here.

On a day spent in Coronado with the baby:

Panacotta Gelato. The only place in SD that I've ever seen it.

My days consist of sleeping in, cooking, maybe cleaning, sometimes learning Korean, hanging out with friends, occasionally tutoring, and oh right, a whole lot of shopping. So much shopping I'm sort of shocked and appalled with myself. But I had like no winter/cold weather items, so I NEEDED to shop. But here's a hint of a few of the things I picked up.







my biggest and happiest finds, I'll show in another post soon. maybe. If I'm not too busy like being happy or something. ^_^

OH, a small EPIK/Korea update. They have most of my documents in Korea as I type, and I just got my FBI Background check & copy of my Master's Degree in the mail yesterday--so that means I'm off to LA tomorrow to get things apostilled. Then hopefully it'll be smooth sailing.

Probably admitting more than I should

Have you read more than 6 of these books? The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here.

Instructions: Copy this into your NOTES. Bold those books you've read in their entirety, italicize the ones you started but didn't finish or read an excerpt. Tag other book nerds. Tag me as well so I can see your responses!

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien <---shouldnt this count as 3 books??
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible - Too Many Cooks
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert X
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno – Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
_

This was originally posted on facebook. But I'm too self-conscious of how much I haven't read to post this up on FB (the fact that I've read Bridget Jones' Diary but not Anna Karenina...). So feel free to judge me here. 19/100 is like, an F. lol

DONT WORK. BE HATED. LOVE SOMEONE.

Sorry for the neglect. Things have been surprisingly busy. I'll blog more about that later, but I did want to drop a little bit of something that I've been thinking about all day.

While talking with my friend Jazmine, she mentioned that last night, a group of friends were talking about if they could do school over again, what would they change. It's an interesting question, because if forces you to think back at all of those moments--those times in your past where you stood at a crossroads and were forced to make a decision, at the loss of others, with no one to hold your hand, and with nothing as a guide except your own heart and mind--and to see if you had made the "right" choice.

You think about what drove your decision--was it to be proper, was it financial, was it to please your parents, teachers? was it the decision that made the most sense at the time? or, oddly, was there never a decision, but just something that happened?--how did you end up today, however it is that you ended up?

The thing that I didn't say at the time, when my friend was saying how everyone from the previous night's group was saying how they would do this, would change that, is that I wouldn't have changed anything.

I'm not saying that to save face.

Because as crappy as it is to have a humanities degree, and a masters in the humanities, I would not have cared nearly as much about anything if I didn't go through what I did years ago. I would not have have been satisfied any other way. Even going to philly, I wouldn't change my decision to go if I had the choice.

As unsure, as scared, as clueless as I was 5 years ago when I stood at my own crossroads, not knowing anything about where my life would go and hardly trusting myself, I took a gamble with what seemed to be the most risky choice at that time.

Because getting a humanities degree, as opposed to something useful like a chemistry degree, is hardly safe.

I'm not going to go into further commentary, because we all have to make decisions based on a lot of factors. I'm not saying that I'm better off not having anything to regret, that I was somehow more true to myself, or that my life is somehow more complete. That's not it at all, because the simple fact of the matter was that I got lucky--I was lucky that I had the opportunity to take such a risk. I was lucky that I had the luxury to have the freedom to make decisions based on nothing but my own desire at that time.

But given that, I'm glad I was able to see the situation for what it was, and was able to trust in myself to know that if I had gone another path, I would have regrets. That I didn't cower from what was the hardest road to walk, the road that was most unfamiliar, the most taxing. And I was glad that once I made that decision, I stuck to it and didn't waver--especially now, when it seems all humanities is undergoing persecution.

I will end with something fun. It's a commencement speech. I love reading commencement speeches because they talk about life in the grandest terms. They are nostalgic, at times terribly romantic, hopeful, sometimes pensive. And, if done correctly, always give you pause.

Here's one by Adrian Tan, for the 2008 NTU convocation ceremony:

I must say thank you to the faculty and staff of the Wee Kim Wee School of Communication and Information for inviting me to give your convocation address. It’s a wonderful honour and a privilege for me to speak here for ten minutes without fear of contradiction, defamation or retaliation. I say this as a Singaporean and more so as a husband.

My wife is a wonderful person and perfect in every way except one. She is the editor of a magazine. She corrects people for a living. She has honed her expert skills over a quarter of a century, mostly by practising at home during conversations between her and me.

On the other hand, I am a litigator. Essentially, I spend my day telling people how wrong they are. I make my living being disagreeable.

Nevertheless, there is perfect harmony in our matrimonial home. That is because when an editor and a litigator have an argument, the one who triumphs is always the wife.

And so I want to start by giving one piece of advice to the men: when you’ve already won her heart, you don’t need to win every argument.

Marriage is considered one milestone of life. Some of you may already be married. Some of you may never be married. Some of you will be married. Some of you will enjoy the experience so much, you will be married many, many times. Good for you.

The next big milestone in your life is today: your graduation. The end of education. You’re done learning.

You’ve probably been told the big lie that “Learning is a lifelong process” and that therefore you will continue studying and taking masters’ degrees and doctorates and professorships and so on. You know the sort of people who tell you that? Teachers. Don’t you think there is some measure of conflict of interest? They are in the business of learning, after all. Where would they be without you? They need you to be repeat customers.

The good news is that they’re wrong.

The bad news is that you don’t need further education because your entire life is over. It is gone. That may come as a shock to some of you. You’re in your teens or early twenties. People may tell you that you will live to be 70, 80, 90 years old. That is your life expectancy.

I love that term: life expectancy. We all understand the term to mean the average life span of a group of people. But I’m here to talk about a bigger idea, which is what you expect from your life.

You may be very happy to know that Singapore is currently ranked as the country with the third highest life expectancy. We are behind Andorra and Japan, and tied with San Marino. It seems quite clear why people in those countries, and ours, live so long. We share one thing in common: our football teams are all hopeless. There’s very little danger of any of our citizens having their pulses raised by watching us play in the World Cup. Spectators are more likely to be lulled into a gentle and restful nap.

Singaporeans have a life expectancy of 81.8 years. Singapore men live to an average of 79.21 years, while Singapore women live more than five years longer, probably to take into account the additional time they need to spend in the bathroom.

So here you are, in your twenties, thinking that you’ll have another 40 years to go. Four decades in which to live long and prosper.

Bad news. Read the papers. There are people dropping dead when they’re 50, 40, 30 years old. Or quite possibly just after finishing their convocation. They would be very disappointed that they didn’t meet their life expectancy.

I’m here to tell you this. Forget about your life expectancy.

After all, it’s calculated based on an average. And you never, ever want to expect being average.

Revisit those expectations. You might be looking forward to working, falling in love, marrying, raising a family. You are told that, as graduates, you should expect to find a job paying so much, where your hours are so much, where your responsibilities are so much.

That is what is expected of you. And if you live up to it, it will be an awful waste.

If you expect that, you will be limiting yourself. You will be living your life according to boundaries set by average people. I have nothing against average people. But no one should aspire to be them. And you don’t need years of education by the best minds in Singapore to prepare you to be average.

What you should prepare for is mess. Life’s a mess. You are not entitled to expect anything from it. Life is not fair. Everything does not balance out in the end. Life happens, and you have no control over it. Good and bad things happen to you day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment. Your degree is a poor armour against fate.

Don’t expect anything. Erase all life expectancies. Just live. Your life is over as of today. At this point in time, you have grown as tall as you will ever be, you are physically the fittest you will ever be in your entire life and you are probably looking the best that you will ever look. This is as good as it gets. It is all downhill from here. Or up. No one knows.

What does this mean for you? It is good that your life is over.

Since your life is over, you are free. Let me tell you the many wonderful things that you can do when you are free.

The most important is this: do not work.

Work is anything that you are compelled to do. By its very nature, it is undesirable.

Work kills. The Japanese have a term “Karoshi”, which means death from overwork. That’s the most dramatic form of how work can kill. But it can also kill you in more subtle ways. If you work, then day by day, bit by bit, your soul is chipped away, disintegrating until there’s nothing left. A rock has been ground into sand and dust.

There’s a common misconception that work is necessary. You will meet people working at miserable jobs. They tell you they are “making a living”. No, they’re not. They’re dying, frittering away their fast-extinguishing lives doing things which are, at best, meaningless and, at worst, harmful.

People will tell you that work ennobles you, that work lends you a certain dignity. Work makes you free. The slogan “Arbeit macht frei” was placed at the entrances to a number of Nazi concentration camps. Utter nonsense.

Do not waste the vast majority of your life doing something you hate so that you can spend the small remainder sliver of your life in modest comfort. You may never reach that end anyway.

Resist the temptation to get a job. Instead, play. Find something you enjoy doing. Do it. Over and over again. You will become good at it for two reasons: you like it, and you do it often. Soon, that will have value in itself.

I like arguing, and I love language. So, I became a litigator. I enjoy it and I would do it for free. If I didn’t do that, I would’ve been in some other type of work that still involved writing fiction – probably a sports journalist.

So what should you do? You will find your own niche. I don’t imagine you will need to look very hard. By this time in your life, you will have a very good idea of what you will want to do. In fact, I’ll go further and say the ideal situation would be that you will not be able to stop yourself pursuing your passions. By this time you should know what your obsessions are. If you enjoy showing off your knowledge and feeling superior, you might become a teacher.

Find that pursuit that will energise you, consume you, become an obsession. Each day, you must rise with a restless enthusiasm. If you don’t, you are working.

Most of you will end up in activities which involve communication. To those of you I have a second message: be wary of the truth. I’m not asking you to speak it, or write it, for there are times when it is dangerous or impossible to do those things. The truth has a great capacity to offend and injure, and you will find that the closer you are to someone, the more care you must take to disguise or even conceal the truth. Often, there is great virtue in being evasive, or equivocating. There is also great skill. Any child can blurt out the truth, without thought to the consequences. It takes great maturity to appreciate the value of silence.

In order to be wary of the truth, you must first know it. That requires great frankness to yourself. Never fool the person in the mirror.

I have told you that your life is over, that you should not work, and that you should avoid telling the truth. I now say this to you: be hated.

It’s not as easy as it sounds. Do you know anyone who hates you? Yet every great figure who has contributed to the human race has been hated, not just by one person, but often by a great many. That hatred is so strong it has caused those great figures to be shunned, abused, murdered and in one famous instance, nailed to a cross.

One does not have to be evil to be hated. In fact, it’s often the case that one is hated precisely because one is trying to do right by one’s own convictions. It is far too easy to be liked, one merely has to be accommodating and hold no strong convictions. Then one will gravitate towards the centre and settle into the average. That cannot be your role. There are a great many bad people in the world, and if you are not offending them, you must be bad yourself. Popularity is a sure sign that you are doing something wrong.

The other side of the coin is this: fall in love.

I didn’t say “be loved”. That requires too much compromise. If one changes one’s looks, personality and values, one can be loved by anyone.

Rather, I exhort you to love another human being. It may seem odd for me to tell you this. You may expect it to happen naturally, without deliberation. That is false. Modern society is anti-love. We’ve taken a microscope to everyone to bring out their flaws and shortcomings. It far easier to find a reason not to love someone, than otherwise. Rejection requires only one reason. Love requires complete acceptance. It is hard work – the only kind of work that I find palatable.

Loving someone has great benefits. There is admiration, learning, attraction and something which, for the want of a better word, we call happiness. In loving someone, we become inspired to better ourselves in every way. We learn the truth worthlessness of material things. We celebrate being human. Loving is good for the soul.

Loving someone is therefore very important, and it is also important to choose the right person. Despite popular culture, love doesn’t happen by chance, at first sight, across a crowded dance floor. It grows slowly, sinking roots first before branching and blossoming. It is not a silly weed, but a mighty tree that weathers every storm.
You will find, that when you have someone to love, that the face is less important than the brain, and the body is less important than the heart.

You will also find that it is no great tragedy if your love is not reciprocated. You are not doing it to be loved back. Its value is to inspire you.

Finally, you will find that there is no half-measure when it comes to loving someone. You either don’t, or you do with every cell in your body, completely and utterly, without reservation or apology. It consumes you, and you are reborn, all the better for it.

Don’t work. Avoid telling the truth. Be hated. Love someone.

credit: knocksteady.com

Prodigal Daughter

I meant to write this post earlier, and had actually drafted a version while I was still living in Philadelphia, and then another while I was sitting in the airport in Austin, Texas, but I never quite had the chance or the inclination to come up with something to actually blog. I suppose though, that its better I do it now that I'm back in San Diego and I can confirm or deny the thoughts I had prior to moving back and in the midst of moving back.

okay enough rambling. Because I'm lazy, this is what I had written in Texas, mid-move:

At the moment I’m sitting in an airport in flat lands of Texas, after the most vomit inducing landing ever. The whole 30 minute descent was like being on a ship at sea tossed about in a storm. I suppose it didn’t help much that I was being a freak and staring and focusing weirdly that the sights out of my little window. FYI, I like window seats because I fall asleep on every flight, and I like to be able to lean against something. Living in San Diego, I’m used the rolling hills, the coastline, the suburbs and the city. Sometimes I forget that there’s something between idyllic seascape and busy urban city skyline. Like, for instance, here in, Texas, where the topography is flat for miles around. Suburban streets and surrounded by plots of land, fields, and then more suburban blocks of residential housing. I can’t get over how flat it is out here. No mountains, no huge skyscrapers to cut into the sky, no hills, nothing. Everything is on the same visual plane. I know I shouldn’t be as amazed by that as I am, but there it is nonetheless.

Oh, but I suppose this post was supposed to be about Philadelphia.

I’m not gonna lie, I did feel a bit sad about leaving the city where I experienced such grief—for the very reason that it was the city where I first experienced the trials of being an adult. Being out on my own, in the biggest sea I’ve ever known, far away from everything comforting and comfortable in my life, forced me to struggle and fight for things that I hadn’t ever before. And there were definitely times where it felt overwhelming.

And as much as I disliked certain elements of living in Philadelphia, the thing that I appreciated the most were the friends that I had made there. To be honest, when I first got there and in the program, I had serious reservations about the kind of people who would be there. Maybe my cynical outlook is the reason why I was so pleasantly surprised to find a few people who I don't mind calling friends.

They are what I will miss the most about Philadelphia.

Looking back, I don't regret anything. As I watched these friends continue to fight through their classes, through the struggles that make up what it's like to be an academic, but also to reap the rewards and benefits that inevitably come from such a fight, I won't lie and say that I didn't feel pangs to sadness. Because they will get to experience and accomplish things that I have only ever dreamt about.

But even still, I don't regret anything: not my decision to come out to philadelphia nor my decision to leave it. I had to go out there in order to figure out what I wanted. Because if I hadn't, it would have always been a "what if" in my mind--it would have been something I would have regretted for the rest of my life.

As it is now, I don't have any regrets. Or at least, not on that account haha.

And now that I'm back in SD, a few reflections.

I absolutely love flying into San Diego. The plane sweeps across the city, so on one side of the plane the view is balboa park and on the other side, downtown and the pacific ocean. My favorite time to land is dusk. Because the low setting sun paints everything in that golden glow you come to expect from San Diego, or California in general.

Even though it was hot that day, it wasn't the stifling humidity of the East coast. And it was such a perfect day to come home. Tiffany picked me up and we did the thing that is a MUST when coming back to SD: we got mexican food haha. Picked up burritos and headed to the most perfect strip of beach in SD: torrey pines <3

I'm still trying to adjust, I suppose. It's a feeling akin to the one you get when you return to your childhood home or elementary school--things are the same, but not quite. Oh, you know who could put this feeling into terms far better than I could ever do? Holden.

(here he's talking about revisiting a museum he frequented as a child):

The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where it was. Nobody'd move. You could go there a hundred thousand times, and that Eskimo would still be just finished catching those two fish, the birds would still be on their way south, the deers would still be drinking out of that water hole, with their pretty antlers and their pretty, skinny legs, and that squaw with the naked bosom would still be waving that same blanket. Nobody'd be different. The only thing that would be different would by you. Not that you'd be so much older or anything. It wouldn't be that, exactly. You'd just be different, that's all. You'd have an overcoat on this time. Or the kid that was your partner in line the last time had got scarlet fever and you'd have a new partner. Or you'd have a substitute taking the class, instead of Miss Aigletinger. Or you'd heard your mother and father having a terrific fight in the bathroom. Or you'd just passed by one of those puddles in the street with gasoline rainbows in them. I mean you'd be different in some way--I can't explain what I mean. And even if I could, I'm not sure I'd feel like it.

(wow. I actually pulled my copy off the shelf to search for that quote, and just thumbing through the pages and skimming through passages reminded me just how excellent that book is and why it remains one of my favorites. Catcher and Holden, along with P&P and Darcy, was one of the first books I felt like I had a relationship with. They came to me at the moment in my life where I was yearning to read something that could affect me. I remember being just hungry for something to read.

That image of the puddles with gasoline rainbows I remember vividly & still remains with me to this day).

The one fabulous thing about coming home is that the relationships I have with people didn't seem to suffer at all. Its just like picking up right after where we left off and for that I remain extremely grateful.

And now I think I need to spend time with Holden, he's a dear friend I haven't visited with in quite some time:)

daydream delusion

Daydream delusion, limousine eyelash
Oh baby with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wineglass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet-cakes and milkshakes
I'm a delusion angel
I'm a fantasy parade
I want you to know what I think
Don't want you to guess anymore
You have no idea where I came from
We have no idea where we're going
Lodged in life
Like branches in a river
Flowing downstream
Caught in the current
I carry you
You'll carry me
That's how it could be
Don't you know me?
Don't you know me by now?

From one of my favorite movies. If you know what that is, kudos to you! If you don't watch Before Sunrise and then its sequel--quite possibly the only sequel in the history of cinema that is better than the original-- Before Sunset. Makes you believe in everything about love, or at least, makes you want to believe in everything about love, destiny, soulmates, fate, the whole bit.

new layout!

I didn't know blogger had all this stuff for your background/layout. awesome. I had fun & I hope you all like the picture I chose. I know some girls will get a laugh out of it. haha

ALSO MY EPIK INTERVIEW IS TODAY OMGGGGGGGG. Please please please let it go well!

Du Juan

Although I'm not a huge magazine reader, I do enjoy them when I have the time/inclination/patience to read through one. I'm partial to fashion magazines more than "women's magazines" and I've always thought the editorial spreads in the international issues were, for the most part, better than their American counterparts. British Vogue, Harpers Bazaar, and Korean Elle, for instance, far better than the American issues. Except for maybe, W magazine, which I've always found to have interesting editorial spreads no matter what issue, this seems to hold true.

And sometimes, while just flipping through a magazine, or, since I'm too cheap/poor to actually buy the issues themselves, when I scan them online (so cost efficient!), often there's just a shot that makes me pause. Like this one:

(NuYou, Sept. 2010)

(Obscura, Oct. 2010)

I've been seeing model Du Juan popping up in all sorts of editorials that I've liked recently, but this one I thought was exceptionally pretty, so I thought I'd share.

(NuYou, Sept. 2010)

the Far East Movement

I mentioned this before, but I'm so in love with Far East Movement's new album, "Free Wired." If more american music was like this, I might actually listen to it more than kpop. So if your music tastes run into to hip hop/ electro pop, then definitely pick this up.

These guys are signed to Lady Gaga's record company, CherryTree, but more importantly, they're doing big thing for the asian american community in the music industry in the US. When do we get to see other asian americans in mainstream music/film/tv? Far East Movement is breaking ground with charting on billboard and itunes and are gaining the attention of audiences. So please support. If only for the music, because its some of the best stuff I've heard in a long time.

I leave you with my favorite song off the Free Wired album (avail. for purchase on itunes):

Far East Movement: Rocketeer

from a friend

my friend matt sent me this today and I thought I'd share it:

As we pass through childhood, each of us, a storehouse of alternative ways of becoming a person, imagines many different courses of action and of life he may later take. However, we cannot be everything in the world. We must choose a path, and reject other paths. This rejection, indispensable to our self-development, is also a mutilation. In choosing, as we must, we cast aside many aspects of our humanity. If, however, we cast them aside completely, we become less than fully human. We must continue somehow to feel the movements of the limbs we cut off. To learn how to feel them is the first major work of the imagination.

Random musings

I should be studying. But today is just one of those days where I'm doing everything else except the very thing I must accomplish today.

I thought that bringing myself outside my apartment to study in a library or something would force me to work, but here I am sitting in a room thats absolutely beautiful, and smelly, and echo-y, and studious, but all I'm doing is blogging.

yeah, I don't want to talk about it.

Did I mention this room is beautiful? It's all red brick, and mouldings, and desks--like the kind you see in movies when students at university are "studying." It smells a bit like an old european basilica or something, you know, something old and well lived in and mixing with the blood, sweat, and tears, of everyone who has ever passed through its doors.

The kind of smell that can only happen with something lasting and aged.

When I walk from campus to my apartment, I often see boys with bouquets of flowers. Probably for the girlfriends. Just because, or at least I like to think so.

I want flowers.

just a few notes

while I'm scrambling to study for my test on Monday.

1) I really failed at Greek this week-- translation isn't so bad, but my quiz scores have put me in the C range. I suspect I'll need to take advantage of extra credit assignments because I need to, not because I want to :(

2) Getting caught in summer rain in philly is something else. something quite nice actually. No need to bundle up--I was walking around in a skirt and cardigan-- because its still quite warm out, just rainy. Oh, and everyone was still wearing sandals/flipflops. I kind of felt stupid with my orange rainboots on. But, because of that fall this past summer(?) I'm a bit afraid to run around a city while its raining and I'm wearing flipflops. I don't need another head injury, thanks.

3) My boxes finally arrived yesterday! I was so incredibly happy that I finally got my stuff in (or, at least, partially). I think my happiness was largely due to the fact that a) I wouldn't have to kill anyone from USPS and b) all my shoes lined up on my shelves looked pretty, or reassuring, or something like that.

4) Tomorrow is the world cup final!! So excited you can't imagine. Going to see the match at some sports bar (my treat for being good this weekend, but really, I didn't have anywhere in particular to go or anyone in particular to see haha).

5) There's a farmers market open so close to where I live, its great!

Okay, back to studying.

Greetings

you have no idea how many drafts of this post I have. I didn't know quite what to say, and to be honest, I've been to busy to sit down and properly post.

however, today I had my first meltdown in Philly.

There's a lot of things going on, personal, financial, and scholastic, and while I'm quite used to being stressed, almost nothing gets me more upset then when I have questions and the people in charge cant/wont help me.

Um, hello, sorry to inconvenience you, but this is MY LIFE HERE so can you stop being a douche and talk to me? Or, better yet, can I talk to you without going through 500 burning loops of death via the automated telephone service?

School is tough man. 3 hours of class everyday. But that's not even the part that's rough, it's the homework. The first day, it took me like 12 hours to complete the assignment, yesterday, I didn't even finish the homework. Its 3 hours of class and something like 8 hrs** of homework. That's like, my whole day.

**8 hrs, but I havent done this in 2 years so my Greek is so ridiculously bad. I feel like a failure in this class, and I'm desperately trying to jog my memory to get Greek back. But as it is, an 8 hour assignment takes me something like 12 hours. No freaking joke.

That doesn't leave a lot of time for very much else. I've only really had time to explore things within like a mile radius (hey I don't have a car!) so I'm hoping to get out this weekend to see something of the city beyond west philly.

And no, I haven't yet had a Philly cheesesteak.

Also, its HUMID here. blistering heat/humidity is probably the biggest adjustment here. I feel like I'm in the freaking PI. Gross stickiness, bleh.

Um... what else? The campus is beautiful. I feel like I'm going to an actual school now. All brick and wooden doors and just overall tree-ness makes me happy.

Now if I could stop getting lost...

ALright this took me too long to type up. Must study. Study or die.

Bringing it Back

So I've noticed (or rather) it's been pointed out to me, that on my Tumblr I don't actually blog. I spam my tumblr with images, and videos but don't really say anything. To be fair, I think my tumblr is all at once, an instantaeonous visual representation of the things I find interesting at any given moment, but at the same time, superficially so.

Thus, I'm bringing this blog back.

And to celebrate, a picture haha:



I'm jealous.