You Still Make My Heart Race

Last post of the decade.

Just wanted to say it's funny that we can look back on five years and have it feel like it went by in five minutes.

I can't help but still feel inspired by the same things. My heart is filled by the same people and though sometime I'm reluctant to let in new ones, it's only because I want to hold on to the memory as long as possible.

I'm not reluctant to grow. If it were up to me, I'd take everyone and everything with me. If I don't, I want them to know they made my life the amazing thing it is, and I'd be wrong to try and sabotage it.

I had a good run in 2009. I want every dream I had for 2010 and the years after to come true.

Happy New Year to you.

Star Light, Star Bright

I always wanted a window seat. I always wanted to have someone wake me up in the middle of the night by throwing pebbles towards my room.

It's the fact that someone out there wants to talk to you, is thinking about you.

It's like those superstitions where if you drop a fork, someone said your name.

It's like all those stars named for people.

It's knowing someone who sits on their roof, or at least used to.

When I have a house, I want a place where there are lots of windows, so that every natural light can fill me with thoughts of other people.

(When I'm sad, I never look higher than straight ahead).

Literally looking up can lift your spirits.

Hearts all over the World Tonight

You gotta believe in something bigger than yourself. Now I'm not talking religious, spiritual, high and mighty-a-tude, I'm talking about the world outside of your situations, your family, your friends, outside of you.

Maybe "believe" isn't the right word. Maybe for you, it's faith or hope or see, but the point is, there's a world out there, and it's easy to get lost in it because it's big. I want to be the one to say that that's okay because it doesn't make you small or less important. It doesn't.

Sometimes I like to believe that all the [crap], and mess and hurt that goes on in life has a point. And other times I'd really like it to just stop so I can be happy again. The hypochondriac in me has already considered that maybe the outcome of all of it is actually going to be something, even if something means there's something wrong. The blogger in me has this much to say:

Sure, I often carry around all my problems and history with me, but maybe that just means that my heavy heart is big and capable of big, amazing things. I honestly believe that my emotions are in there, that that's where caring for a person begins and ends, and that things can break it. Though it can, at times, be cumbersome, it's also the thing that keeps me alive.

You gotta believe in something bigger than yourself. For me? It's my heart.

Keep it Secret, Keep it Safe.

I used to have Italian neighbours. We got on really great, the kids lived in the house behind us and their grandmother lived to our left. I think I called her Nona.

Me and my brother went to her house a lot. There was a big empty room with a rocking horse in it, much older than the one I preoccupied myself with in Please Mum, but just as fun. Her kitchen walls were green, and I used to play with her giant doily of a table cloth as she fed me biscotti. (Back then, I didn't know it was supposed to be hard).

I can't remember much else about her house, but it was the stuff outside of it that I miss anyway. Ceiling cross-hatched with with wood that still smelt like wood... flowers and vines (in Burnaby of all places)... and what looked like an old stove and cauldrons for flower pots. Stone and brick tiled the ground and it was just, an every day beautiful kind of place. I haven't been there in a while.

Every year we'd have this giant party for my dad's and Nona's son's restaurant. At night, nona's backyard would change into the bar, and there were wines and coffees, but I always went for those Chubby sodas and the sugar cubes. It'd be really dark because there was only the porchlight.

I hear a lot of people talking about secret places they have, whether it be their roof, their last vacation spot, or a space behind their bed where they just write all the time. That was one of mine, but I think I've found a new one. I've shown it to 2 people in the past 7 years that I've known about it, one of which doesn't even read this blog. :P I think secret places are important, even if they are just memories. I say go visit Nona's backyard.

3 and 6 will happen before I'm 30

No matter how irrational a hope is, I think each one of us should hold onto something that's maybe not so realistic.

I have been told that I am childish because of my hopes, and sometimes I want to tell people that I am only seventeen, not already seventeen. (Even though I'm almost eighteen).

I hope I can be stubborn enough to fight for myself.

***

HOPE turned into a negative word, and should not be used to antagonize people who give.

***

Some of my hopes are valid, like the one about becoming someone I'm proud of in 10 years, or any number divisble by 3 on my bucket list.

But my irrational hope is that I could go my entire life without consuming alcohol. What's yours?

"Honest to Blog"

Short one today. No picture either.

I put makeup on before work today because my eyes were puffy from last night. Spent about 20 minutes with it on and scrubbed it off. Felt better.

Must you yell? All I did was huff a bit and you puffed me right into oblivion. Damnit, that's like the 2,102,094th second chance I've given you.

I should probably stop thinking about her and focus on you. You make me happy, not something I'm used to. You say I make you happy, also not something I'm used to. Usually we just say "opposites attract," but that doesn't make me feel better about being different. Especially when you're the same as everyone else - it's just me.

I like to tell people "the good thing about me is, that I'll drop whatever's bothering me if a friend is bothered." I stand by that, and if I'm wrong it's one of the few things I'm sorry for.

It's funny how cliche life can be. People say they hate this and that, but when this and that are gone, they'd rather it be here than there.

What if I don't go back to school?

What if I don't come home after work tomorrow?

What if people always remember me as the mispelled version of my name in the yearbook?

I'm a Sucker, Shoot Me.

Maybe I LIKE the movie "27 Dresses," but I'll have you know that it is mostly because the night I went to see it, "Benny and the Jets" came on in the car, only to be heard later again in the movie. Hella perfect.

I LIKE CHICK FLICKS. Once, a guy said to me that he didn't like using that term, which I completely respect, but you know what? I've already accepted that I'm a part of their key demographic so I'm allowed to say things. For all the guys who read my blog, I apologize if I'm not being very relatable, but this has been on my mind for a while now.

What I don't understand is why every movie I see has to include some form of infidelity or a reason to make me hate sexy women and greedy men. I'm sure those women are very nice in real life, but I cannot help but inflame with discomfort (to put it nicely) when Silver Spectre or Scarlett Johansson (do not even get me STARTED on the guy I knew who worshiped Megan Fox), do something on the screen for all the guys out there in the audience. THERE ARE GIRLS THERE TOO, and we like to think we're okay looking without having blue eyes. Brown eyes can be sexy too, ya know.

So can uneven tan lines, good-smelling frizzy hair, and skin that's soft but not soaked with sweat or pool water.

I'll fully admit to half of it being my irrationality, but I'd really like it if movie night didnt require me leaving with all this doubt of myself and questions for my boyfriend. He's a good guy, I shouldn't feel the need to cover his eyes because there really shouldn't be a crotch shot in an action movie. People make fun of me all the time for being a jealous little bugger, but I'm 5 feet and 130 pounds, give me a break! I was the girl who swore she would never show her stomach when she was 10 years old. I was the girl who was told when talking to a guy friend that she was "a dress, not a skirt." I'm also the girl who hopes her confidence never makes someone else feel like they suck.

To me, that's the definition of a bitch.

Girly movies. *Cave. Romantic comedies. *Double cave. I'll watch 9, how about that? I think what I really want is to be allowed to watch "My Sister's Keeper" and "Paper Heart" and not be made fun of by my friend's father when we rent things like that.

I'd also like to point out for kicks that I don't like Juno.

Good God, this blog went all over the place. I'd like to point out that right now I'm just looking to talk, talk, talk. There's not much else to do on a night in when you don't have a pet.

Simple Pleasures

I own a book called 14 000 things to be happy about. It's quite the read, and I don' t have the heart to check if any of them are doubles, but I'm sure there wouldn't be a need for that. I was told by a friend that list blogs are more fun anyways, so I figured I'd give it a shot and a half.

1) waffle fries
2) thunderstorms in the Rainforest Cafe
3) the fudge part of an ice cream cake
4) the acoustics in a tiled bathroom
5) lying in fresh-out-of-the-dryer sheets
6) stories about married couples
7) the digits "5946" on my caller id
8) cookies with designs on them
9) a nice checkout person
10) home "spa" days
11) messy boy writing
12) elderly people playing Keno on the bench
13) scratch and wins
14) 5 minute downpours
15) having to choose between 3 really good movies you see on TV listings and then forgetting what channel they're on by them time you decide
16) singing into a broom/mop handle
17) waiting for all of your hair to get wet when you first step into the shower

on a side note - i'd like to apologize for my hiatus. thanks for giving me the recoop time i needed.

The One place you shouldn't walk Diagonally

I went to a funeral today. It was nice. My grandma's uncle died at 95, quite peacefully and we all loved him, which is why we wore white instead of black. It was a "celebration of life."

It was weird though. I've never been old enough to fully comprehend a funeral. Some relatives passed away when I was six and they were buried at the same place, but this time around I actually thought about the whole process of putting a body in the ground to rest in peace. I remember going to the mausoleum and wondering why it said 1993-1993 on one of the inscriptions - turns out it was a baby in there. I remember walking past all of the headstones, and being told it was impolite to cross over them and you had to walk at the foot of the grave if there was no set sidewalk or anything.

Watching them lower the casket, I felt like an ounce of hope that maybe this was supposed to be the time that changed my mind about how things are going. Like an epiphany. Well, I had one, not that one though.

I have not been okay lately. Last night was my last get-together with my choir and it used to be that they were the most important bonds I held. We were supposed to go to the lake, but we got rained out so it all happened in our school's music room instead. I got there and it was different. I felt like my one separate entity there and there used to be days when I could at least relate to one person and that's not what it felt like at all. The games we played turned people against eachother and I wasn't comfortable with some of the activities - I felt like a retard.

I hate it when it depends on who says something for someone to react to it. I used to make jokes all the time and I was good at it, but this year, I can say the exact same thing as someone else who's cuter, only the cuter person will say it, get noticed and everyone will laugh. I AM GOD DAMN FRUSTRATED WITH NOT BEING NOTICED.

Then again, I don't want people to notice that I have darker skin than everyone else. That my eyes aren't blue, and my hair isn't blonde, or pink for that matter. I have never had such a problem with being myself until the year. What the hell. I'm not ashamed of being Asian, but I don't like how I look. I feel FAT compared to other people and don't fucking tell me that that's stupid and untrue because I know how you god damn look at me when I eat, and keep eating when everyone else isn't because it's class time.

FUCK YOU, WORLD. I USED TO BE SOMEONE. And now I feel like nothing. I hope you're happy with all the work you've done to make me think that I'm unnecessary. Mission fucking accomplished.

There's a lot that I need to say but my self-conscience is telling me that you're tired of these venting blogs so I'll just give you what you want. An end.

Because I read Stevie Smith's "Pretty"

Boys and girls, I got tired of orange. It's time for a new look, but not necessarily a new me.
Grad 2009 took place last weekend and it's my job to speak up for the underdog.
Not everyone spends $500+ on their dress/suit, makeup and hair. Sometimes they just want to look nice, not traditional.
Not everyone spends $5000+ on university right after high school. Sometimes they just want to be sure, not frivolous.
Not everyone can feel like a princess on their celebration of the last night of highschool. Sometimes, all they wanted was to prove that they're an every day kind of beautiful.

That was my hope on June 13th. I was beginning to realise just how different I was from everyone else. I"m not going to school next year, I don't believe that everyone has the option of doing what they love, and I didn't look like everyone else when I stepped into the dim sparkling lights of the hall.

The night before grad, I came home in the evening and found an album on facebook of a few classmates in their caps and gowns. How nice everyone looked.... Then, I found an album of my closer friends, the ones who I spend lunch hours with, who I have sleepovers with... all in their caps and gowns. The pictures were taken that day. No one ever invited me.

The next morning, those same friends pracitced to sing O Canada at the ceremony. I can't tell you how annoyed I was that we had 2 songs to sound check and yet, we kept at that one. It's a lovely thing to be asked "aren't you doing this too?" and have them realise just after that "no, I'm not."

I wore a blue dress that night. It was knee-length and it cost me $15, originally $100. It was in perfect condition. The only problem, should one really have cared, was that it wasn't really a "prom" dress. Luckily, I didn't. So I was there amongst all these princesses, in a pair shoes that I borrowed from my mom, hair and makeup done at home by myself and my cheap little tiara. It felt awful. Everything did. I have never been so ashamed of being myself. And normally, I'm the kind of person who blossoms on their own. I felt so .. subsequent to everyone else there, regardless of all my accomplishments and every award I had received that morning walking across the stage. My boyfriend was really sweet about telling me how nice I looked. He's good about that sort of thing, but this time I knew it wasn't true at all. I just smiled for the pictures. It's okay, that night's done. I don't have to compete with highschool girls anymore. I'll go back to school when I'm older and I have more money in my bank account. For now, I wear a ring on my right hand, nothing but Chapstick on my lips.

It's Angsty, be warned.

Know what I just realised?

I could be independent, and if I were, I'd be a lot less sad. I'd take care of myself first and not constantly try to do nice things for other people because every time I try to do a nice thing for someone, it blows up in my face and I end up feeling like crap. I'd also have to fake smile a lot less.

But if I were independent, I'd be a lot less happy. I'd detach myself from a lot of the people who make me laugh and make me okay, not to mention be thought of as the Local Bitch. I don't want to be that person but you know, sometimes you don't have the energy to be "okay."

Sorry about this one, but lately there haven't been a lot of people around to express my frustration to, and this spot is usually where I'm most honest.

PS - I had a Tom Hanks in "You've got Mail" moment today. I zinged someone when I should've just smiled and walked away. Oops.

I Forgot how much fun Frisbee is

Nerds can have a good time too, you know. They (we) are perfectly capable of having a party during what should be class, breaking out the junk food, turning up the Pat Benatar, and running through a set of sprinklers on the track like it was your driving test not for marks. Perfectly capable, just like today.

It's weird to think that I've been in the same class as those kids for five years. Of course some of them didn't show up but for those that did, we managed to let our hair down for a grand total of 1 hour and 10 minutes in the midst of P.E. classes and video projects and we ran, and danced, and played in the sunshine. The 13 of us shared 3 frisbees, 3 bags of popcorn, some lemon cranberry muffins and a giant box of crayons. (There was more food than anything, but none of us thought to bring water so the sprinklers came in perfect time).

Why is this so strange to me? Why is it so unfamiliar to have a good time and just hang out and swing my arms and legs around to a song without thinking?

Yesterday, I went to go visit a friend of mine in the hospital. He's a nerd too, so we thought it'd be great to bring him a set of bongos and a guitar and have this positive energy jam sesh... and he kept telling us to "forget all the shit" and just not think about how the jam turned out. So we got a rhythm going, and I kept trying to jump in with a hum, nothing but a hum, and I found so hard. Which is stupid! And it took me long enough to just let sound out of me and make up words and I realised, I don't have enough improvised, spontaneous FUN in my life.

I still remember when I was 11 and my uncle asked me if I'd like to snow tubing and my instinct screamed no because it wasn't something we'd planned. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It was so much fun.

With everything that's going on, and there's ALWAYS something going on that makes you feel more grown up that you are/should be, we all need to do this. Promise me that you will go and step out into the sunlight and shake your hair around in the wind because it does the soul at least a little bit of good. :-)

I Eat Meat when I'm Depressed

So you might have noticed that I want to spend a year as a vegetarian. This is actually a follow-up to my 12 weeks as a (seafood) vegetarian last year, something I had a lot of fun with, and I felt really good about it. Each week that contained the first of the month in it, I would spend as a vegetarian. Sometimes I agonized over how poorly they were timed, but I'm proud to say that that is how I spent my 17th birthday.

Unfortunately, I stopped this year. I think it was in October that I just found it easier not to tell myself no when it came to chicken strips and pepperoni pizza. I find myself missing those days where I could still say I was proud of myself. I can't say that as often anymore.

It feels like my activist attempts have just gone so completely downhill. There's so much on my plate right now that sometimes the things I have to do take priority over the things I want to do and that leaves me feeling a little empty to say the least.

I'm not about to retract my point, but I do notice that I sound like what people would call a "tool" when I put things like this. I'm aware, but I refuse to correct it and that's bound to be someone's too damn bad.

ps . I had a hot dog for the first time in 2 years the other day - it was comcerningly delicious.

My own Bucket List

I've returned! My trip was incredible, and considering it will be my last in a good long while, it was everything it should have been and more. I'm proud to say I accomplished one of my life dreams on Sunday night - #17.

Believe me, I am the type to resist the cheesiness of something like "the happiest place on earth," and of course I've heard every disgusting story about Walt Disney (including a particularly disturbing one concerning lemmings), but when you're there on Main Street USA, and you see the characters waving at everyone and there's a man with mouse balloons walking around you just give in to it all.

A morning in Disneyland, it was enough to rejuvenate (or maybe distract) from any hardships and worries I'd been experiencing days before. I mean, this was the place where they broadcast Christmas parades and where they filmed Sing-a-longs that I watched as a kid. It's also the place whose advertisements I used to get really sad over. I'd be 10, 12 years old and I'd see a Disneyland commercial and there would be that child on tv who gets to go with their parents and watch the fireworks and meet Mickey and everything, and I never thought I'd be able to do that. I'd only ever been once before when I was about 4 years old, so I couldn't even go let alone remember any of the cool rides. I remember having to sit and watch the intro video to the Indiana Jones ride while my brother went on once with mom and then another time with dad. It blew chunks.

Anyways, the fact that I was there with all my friends during senior year just meant the world to me. I'd taken the entirety of Sunday to walking around between there and the Paradise Piver in California Adventure (where they have the best tasting waffle fries EVER), and my legs were just about ready to buckle 1 minute into the fireworks. So I sat on a bench and looked up at the exploding stars and circles in the shape of a face and two very large ears, and on the speakers they started quoting movies and every quote started with "I wish..." It was amazing I'd never noticed how much they say that in Disney movies, but there were like 10 of them. It was literally wonderful.

Because of that night, I feel it'd be wrong to rule anything out ever again. Watching those commercials as a child I thought I'd NEVER see those shows but there I was a few days ago, in the moment. I encourage you to create a bucket list of your own, writing down the fantasies you have no matter how much you think they'll never come true. You might just find yourself standing in the middle of one of them one day.

(please not that these are by no means in order or desire)

#1 - become an ultrasound technician so I can show someone their baby's heartbeat
#2 - be a Power Ranger for Halloween
#3 - spend a year as a vegetarian when I am 24
#4 - receive a postcard from somewhere that's not North America
#5 - send a handwritten letter
#6 - have a pet dog and a pet genuie pig
#7 - take a picture of my foot on the Walk of Fame
#8 - wear a sari and get a monroe piercing
#9 - record an improvised jam session
#10 - make out in a library
#11 - have a Disney movie marathon, complete with the Aristocats
#12 - be able to quote/identify famous poets and authors, specifically Thoreau
#13 - enter an open mic night
#14 - attend a poetry slam and drink an exotic tea on a mildly smelly couch
#15 -sing on a cruise ship
#16 - watch the sun rise from a cliff barefoot
#17- watch the Disneyland fireworks from Main Street USA

there's probably more.

I am a Sedimentary Rock

You'll have to excuse my love of Geography on this one.

I'm going on a trip to the states soon. It's with school, so lots of people will be there. Last week, we were signing up for buses and of course, one group of friends decided to go on bus #2, and another group of friends decided to go on bus #3. You wouldn't think it would be so difficult to choose a damn bus, it's only a 4 hour ride, but I got really emotional over it. I thought my decision would dictate how the entire trip went: me choosing between friends and always missing out on one thing or another. Sometimes I wish I had just one set of close friends who I can default to, but that's not me. It's never been me. I can't even spend a lunch hour in the same room for more than 10 minutes. I have to make my rounds.

I've always prided myself on being well-rounded, but sometimes that makes me more vulnerable to getting hurt, or rather, hurting myself. My personality is made up of little bits and pieces of my friends and people I admire, and when I meet someone, I always like to find something we have in common. It just makes the transition from strangers to acquaintances a little more interesting, you know? Mind you, when it comes time to being myself, I have no idea what that means. I feel like I have to be different around different people because of social circumstances, and that confuses me a lot when those different groups of people are all together. The sad thing is, that when I graduate at the end of this year, I'm going to miss having this problem.

So as for the trip, I suppose I'll just have the best time I can with whoever I'm with, and I'll hear everyone else's inside jokes later back at the hotel. I can't say it's not going to make me sad, but what else can I do?

PS
-I never liked ven diagrams.

Return To Sender

For the past 6-ish months, I used to comment on a Facebook thread every week with something called "Philosophy Friday." I used to do my best to give some healthy advice to my friends and they took to it pretty well. It used to be things like, "don't be afraid to talk to someone you normally wouldn't, they might pay you a compliment that makes your day" or "speak up for someone else's sake" and small anecdotes like that. They usually had something to do with my own experiences. Unfortunately, a couple weeks ago, I noticed that no succeeding commentary was made after my post, and it made me a little bit sad.

I waited a couple days, and the posts consisted of things like "damn, I have to get up early" or "I'm craving meatloaf." That was the point when I realised hey, it just stopped being worth it. It felt a bit like rejection.

There's a reason why I started blogging instead. One was so that other people, even if I didn't know them, could follow it, and two, was that I could say what I wanted and no one would feel obligated to respond. They just did it because they were interested. Lately I've been a little worried that the things I say have no meaning or at least they lack signifigance to my audience, which makes this whole thing a little ponitless. But after a few friends asked me why I haven't been around, I realised: I don't have to feel obligated to impress anyone either.

Like my header says: I am every day people. This blog is more like a journal than anything, so I'm going to write freely, but consciously. I'll share my thoughts with you if you're up for some reading. You might just catch yourself thinking about me and my words one day.

By the way, if you ever have something to say. Put it somewhere. Write it, scribble it, post-it, SOMEwhere. I have an entire word document full of things I think, but don't tell anyone, and sometimes it kind of fun to read through.

PS - I know I changed my header. I actually didn't notice it was missing a word until today.
PPS - I'm sorry for my "hiatus," but I was a bit scared to put my stuff out there again. Come back soon!

The Lamp Next to the Wallflower

Hey Out There,

We've all been in that dirty, dank place where we think it'd be easier to give up than to keep going. Truth is, it probably would be easier, but where's the story in that?

Believe it or not, sticking it out is worth a try. During the summer, I was tempted to give up everything that made me the year before. The groups I was in, even some of the friendships I'd made, I asked myself if they'd really miss me. And so many times this year have I stood in a room and felt like I had no purpose there. Angsty stuff, I know. But the sick thing is, that type of thing is normal. You watch the other people around you and they're all having the time of their lives and then there's you, the wallflower.

Don't wait until you feel the need to scream out loud to make yourself a part of the scene. Too many times have I done that and I've become such a burden on the people who care about me, who constantly have to reassure me that I matter to them, and to the world. Of course, they don't think it as a burden, they do that sort of thing out of love and genuine concern, but that's how it comes off. I get to thinking, if I'd just clued in, I'd be the person making someone else's day. Spread some positive energy and enlighten them -- "guess what, I care." And so do a lot of others.

In case you didn't pick up, stay! STAY! There are people around you, friends, family, whomever, that care and don't you dare deny them the chance to show it. Let them keep you, it's the nice thing to do. Don't go walking away from something good.

Lights Out, Kiddies!

So yesterday was the day that as many people in the world tried to turn their lights and things off for an hour to promote climate change awareness. I was at a party and about 15 of us participated - it was great. We lit candles and we all went out for a walk around the neighbourhood singing "This Little Light of Mine." We even knocked on someone's door to let them know about the event and wished a "Happy Earth Hour" to every car and pedestrian we passed by. :-)



I had a great time, hope you got a change to do your part!

Chalk Drawings on the Sidewalk

Remember hopscotch? You know, how 3 and 4 and 8 and 9 were always side by side? How funny it felt to your wrist when you wrote on the bumpy spots? The colourful residue on your fingers?

Let's get back to basics, folks. I was walking home after a full day of class and volunteering and clashing with people, when I got a block away from my door and noticed that I was stepping on some blue squiggles. Luckily it was still light out and it hadn't rained since the morning beforehand, so I kept going, finding X's and suns with glasses along my way. Naturally I couldn't resist following the hopscotch squares for a little bit, and then "I love you."

It was written in front of me in yellow, along with "I [heart] you," then, "ILU." (This made me think of how earlier that day I'd written "IOU a hug" on a note to my boyfriend).

I got home and I was tired of how complicated and exceptional everything was. I'd spent the last 3 weeks being bitter from work, and rude to my friends and it took me nothing short of a dizzying busride to get me sick enough to stop for a minute. Time to suck it up, and ask for help. Something I was never okay with doing, even as a kid.

When I drew on the sidewalk, or took rides on my tricycle, or played with my Thomas O'Malley cat in my room in the afternoons, I was never so aware of being by myself. Now that concept has turned into things like alienation and solitude. And here I was so keen on independence.