16 posts tagged “life”

Gee, look who decided to procrastinate e-mailing her professor and calling up resources?  Why, because she has other things in mind, particularly how much she wants to beat her head on the keyboard because of how anxious and panicked she is – and clearly out of her mind for talking in the third person.

Little sister is doing her driving test at this very moment, so good wishes to her.  It's so odd to finally see younger siblings doing things that are grown up?  I don't know what it is, it's just a really bizarre experience to know that she's catching up.  Like, 'hey, where have you been all my life, lost years?'  Before I know it, my half-sister and half-brother will be right behind her and then where do I stand?  I really want to see them grow up, but I can't.  Rarely.

Skipping class today to focus on much more important things that I haven't yet started.  Why?  Because I suck, obviously.  The prospect of having to handle this much stress in compressed time is really starting to get to me.  If I was happy this morning because of the weather, the beckoning of real life is starting to look overwhelming and suffocating.  And I do what I do best in times like these – run away.  I fail as a human being, much less a live one.

Emotions are illogical.  Blind affection of any kind is nonsensical and a true mystery because, from an observational standpoint, I can't understand how I remotely liked the guy.  I mean, this is just one of those days where the light in my head turns on, and I can see everything with clarity.  I am more convinced that I am easily addicted to what a person can do in terms of their talents versus who they are and for some inane reason, I mix the two and my vision clouds because it's very easy.  A person's abilities represents – at least for me – a romanticized appeal that I've fashioned in my head.  And of course those are the wrong reasons for liking someone.  Kenneth and I are good revelationists (it's a good made up word, go away).

Okay, okay.  I am going to e-mail the professor right now.  Yes.
Probably not.

Edit:  I finally e-mailed him, and I am stressing out.  Of course now I'm worrying about the proper etiquette and proper way to ask for a recommendation!  And of course now I worry about the way I sounded in my e-mail – should I have sounded a little less proper, a little more casual?  Should I have acknowledged the fact I barely interacted with him in class, was a little more self-reliant?  UGH.  And why won't the volunteer lady answer her phone during office hours?  Epic, epic, EPIC fail.

I have this odd fascination with bones.

But even being some pseudo science nerd (not really, I ultimately defy/hate science unless it's entertaining as CSI), my fondness for bones have nothing to do with the technical details – only for aesthetics.  There was really no point to that.

I lost sleep due to the change in time and having to wake up earlier than anticipated, tried napping it off later in the afternoon but only awoke groggy and disoriented, went 'house hopping' and spending a little bit of time here and there with friends, but was unable to visit my favorite people because my mom (and therefore, my stepdad by default) netted and imprisoned me in the house for two hours.  They're not as tyrannical as I make them sound, I promise – at least not for today.

Ordered in Japanese, watched ABDC on MTV (and now wanting Michael Jackson tracks that I, for some reason, have kept deleting in the past, I don't know why!), and am currently nursing the sharp, almost intolerable pain in my side.  

Food makes me want to purge lately, it's disgusting; I like food.  :(  And I'm really not looking forward to calling up about my volunteer hours and requesting letters of recommendations tomorrow.  Too much fretting involved, and I keep catastrophizing the situation even though I'm sure, by the odds, some things will work out okay.

Other than that, I was very content with the weather.  A little warmer than I expected but good enough.  Had planned to throw around the football outside with my younger sister, but that wasn't executed at all.  Maybe another day.  Today made me want to seek out my half siblings, though, but that entails having to talk to my dad which is about the worst idea I could ever have.

That aside, overall, today was all right.

That last entry was definitely one, so it has now found itself under padlocks and chains.  It was oddly depressing in a non-depressing way, but it came off as self-pitying and well, whatever.

So real accidents:  I literally have bruises and cuts (some of which were bleeding) everywhere.  I'm not entirely sure how I obtained them either because I'm fairly confident that I haven't hit or tripped or whacked myself against something without my knowledge.  I'd be aware; my skin, bones, and nerves are hypersensitive.

I suppose it would be too macabre if I photographed the wounds for evidence.

Hm, hm, hm.

It's a rare occasion when I refer to someone by their name.  That is to say, of course I do, but it's usually said in greeting, jest or accusation, or even if I feel like isolating someone to bring attention to them.  If I ask a question to someone, I usually do so in a fashion where he or she will know they're being addressed.  This appears to be the same thing with me; no one really calls me by name unless we're being silly or what-have-you.

So it's jarring when I hear my name said – not to get my attention or just to say hello but just because.  And it's not even my many nicknames (which I heartily adore, mind you) that are being used, only Ashley.  It's the kind of thing that makes me double-take because it's strange to hear it not from my family members or co-workers (it's expected).  Conversely, I don't really care either way if people don't call me by name or otherwise use nicknames because, to me, it signifies camaraderie and the usage of some nicknames are only  given to specific persons (and vice versa) which I think is cute (as is everything else with me, apparently).

I thought it was interesting to mention, nothing important out of it.  Personally, I think calling a person by his or her name is a very intimate thing – romantical or otherwise – that would suggest a closeness or extreme comfort level.  It's especially endearing when you say the name without even realizing, that it comes so naturally you don't even think about it until hours later.

Clearly, I love the little things in life.  Sometimes I feel like an idiot for bringing it up with certain people because they either give me confused looks or stare at me blankly.  It's that insignificant, but we think about it so little that it's important to me.

Just something to think about!

Last morning breakfast with the early birds.  Boo.  :(

alana's

Ah, I'm sure there'll be other days but merely infrequent and sporadic.  Alana's is a great place to eat in Burlingame if you can get there before 10AM.  On a weekday.  God knows what it's like on a weekend, and I have no plans on finding out anytime soon.  If anyone needs a recommendation, the best person to ask would be Connie; she's like the Zagat for morning excursions.

Their Swedish oatmeal pancakes with a side of cinnamon apples and Mediterranean omelette with a scone was basically nirvana on a plate.  And their coffee was good too.  Now, I don't exactly have experience in the food business, but the server there was efficient and thought of everything.  Needless to say, I was impressed.  It also helped that I was already in a good mood, so there you go.

Note!  I envied the cutlery and dishes, décor, lighting, and color schemes.  Will be saved for another day, but I'm preparing a list of items I want/need for my future apartment.  It'll be the best and warm place ever, a bit of Asian and European fusion – fully zen and everything else that applies.

I will never tire of falling in not-quite-love with people because the sparks and electricity – the general adrenaline rush – makes me grin until my face hurts.  Best thing in the world, really.  You know, and then I laugh uncontrollably because this is all very funny to me, and utterly girlish and silly.

But it was definitely a good distraction, despite the fact we had a mutual understanding that You are you, and I am me, and this is all we are – two singularities with one specific chemistry concentrated on sympathy, concern, and respect.  Eventually, you confuse them (I do this all the time with people).

We sat in his car and talked as per usual.  I'm writing the alphabet on his hand, and he lets me because he knows my quirks better than anyone else while he fills the gaps with conversation, and it's never forced.  It's usually just him thinking aloud, I provide my opinion, and we rally back and forth until things segue in the ways they should.  It's different because I usually have to fish for something to talk about with others.

And then he goes, "Are you okay?"

I flinch a little because I like these things to go unnoticed for the most part.  And I admit it gets a little humiliating when I know I'm going to have to provide details about why and whatnot.  But I tell him anyway because he's more experienced in this arena and, what the hell, I'm tired of having to keep this to myself.

And then what it all came down to was:

"You concern yourself more with the comfort of others than taking care of yourself first."

A tired observation; I get this a lot, actually, and I really don't know why I do it.  It's always, so long as you're okay or let me know if I'm doing something wrong or whatever else I happen to think of at the moment.  In theory, stopping that would give me more time to pick myself back up but honestly?  What I do is basically inherent and would take quite a lot of time trying to reconfigure how I approach complications.

Then:  "You know what I think?  You attach yourself to those who are genuinely concerned about you.  You were deprived as a child, weren't you?"

"Apparently!"

This is followed by laughter because we clearly think it's funny to poke fun at my upbringing.

We pretty much continue this for another hour before he drops me off back at my house, kisses me on the forehead (and here's where I get the chills and punch him for it), and sends me away and makes sure I get in safely.  Lastly:  "Try not to think about it too much.  You can do that when you're dead."

Cue resounding appreciation.  Because it is something I thank him constantly for – for keeping an eye out on me when everyone else is too concerned about the surface.  Which is another reason why I despise him so because it throws me into an emotional frenzy.  Although whenever I look at him, I see a teddy bear I simultaneously want to cuddle and attack with a barrage of kicks.

My relationships with others are so open-ended, it's ridiculous.

I also finished I Am Legend.  On a scale of 1-10, it's probably a decent seven.  Conceptually, it's a good book but the execution was fairly mediocre.  Somewhat emotionally gripping, particularly when Matheson delved into the matter of loneliness, isolation, and the human hope for companionship, etc.  As far as emotional frailties is concerned, it was probably the only time I ever empathized with the main character.  Otherwise, it's all right, and I have every intention of watching the film adaptation.

Aside from the perpetual nightmares (mostly annoying, subconscious images that refuse to leave me alone for a second), the frantic activity of my mind has been keeping me awake in this past week.  In order to neutralize that, I've done all the following:

– Rest for long periods of time.  I sit in the living room couch or my bed or on the swingset outside, wasting away and engaging myself in other things to occupy the empty gaps;

– Daydreaming, which is more or less combined with the above.

– Thinking about nothing, also working in conjunction with the previous two.  These are my best moments, depending on the amount of time I dedicate to it, which is also dependent on whether I even can;

– Auditory overload.

Ultimately, the combination of sleeping too much and then too little (the erratic swing of it all is making me loopy), being more interested in distracting myself and keeping busy with irrelevant things, finding pseudo therapy in music and becoming particularly neurotic when I'm pulled away from it, has made me more irritable and emotional than usual.

I dwell on events and torture myself with the constant repetition, but I think it helps in the long run because you numb it out, and then the whole thing fades and becomes very insignificant.  I would love to get to a point where all the crumbling dynamics and convoluted arguments of family and friends begin to pale in comparison to a bigger picture.

I just want to start the new year  – again – living and appreciating rather than remain stagnant with all this negativity.

In an effort to get people to look
into each other's eyes more,
the government has decided to allot
each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it
to my ear without saying hello.
In the restaurant I point
at chicken noodle soup. I am
adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long
distance lover and proudly say
I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn't respond, I know
she's used up all her words
so I slowly whisper I love you,
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

– Jeffrey McDaniel, The Quiet World

Man is in love, and loves what vanishes.
– W.B. Yeats

Fairly self-explanatory, adapting it to every part of life imaginable.  Currently in a very tricky spot, you know, but there's tragedy and beauty – both interchangeable – here.

Reading and re-reading my book collection, starting with Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury.

monkeys

Never really a good idea to casually mention how much you have saved in the bank to a particularly financially irresponsible relative, who has it in good authority to take advantage of how much she should charge you for things.

I should just say I'm horrendously poor or something by spending frivolously on Apple products and other sorts of material things.

When money is involved, the only person I trust is my mom.  And myself, thank you very much.

Aqualung makes me incredibly giddy inside, and I aspire to play like Matt Hales in the unseen, distant future.  Speaking of playing like Hales, I managed to sail along Prelude (Bach) during my recital earlier tonight with one minor mistake.  Let us not speak of the major scales, though; apparently, the positioning of my fingers were all wrong, but that's neither here nor there.

What else – oh, managed to strike out two people off my holiday gift list.  I have a long way to go, considering I just started.  Really, with me, Christmas is during January, sorry to say. :(

Thanks, Jenbean, I love you for the chocolates.  Really!  And seriously, I am in love with the card.  I need to get a box solely for the letters you've sent me; they're overflowing in the case I'm currently keeping them.

Now, to cover all the bases, things that make me happy:

• Winter Break!
• Pretty letters and/or greeting cards and/or postcards with good ramblings.
• Stationery and/or notebooks littered with stories and quotes and other sayings about nothing.
• Online stores that make my life easier.
• Piano-driven songs and rainy evenings to lull me to sleep.
• Hot chocolate and cute things.
• Expecting a few eventful weeks ahead that is sure to be fun, I hope!
• Rain, rain, rain – did I mention rain?
• Classical music – Debussy, in particular.
  
• Scarves, I love scarves.
• A constant state of semi-expectations and curiosity.