resolution reflection

Yay! Christmas (as in the season of materialism, consumerism, shopping malls, crowds) is over. Let's not forget the true meaning of Christmas. Linus, of the Peanuts, will help you:

"And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were so afraid. And the angel said unto them, 'Fear not, for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you this day is born in the city of Bethlehem, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; you shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.' And suddenly there was with the angel, a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on Earth peace, good will toward men' ". That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown." Amen.

And don't you forget it.

Christmas was alright this year. It's sad, but I really don't feel anything for Christmas. I think I wrote about this before...Christmas is just a break from school, and that's all it means to me, and I wish I didn't feel this way, but I do.

My cousin's husband was my secret santa. We had Thanksgiving at their house this year, and he's in the SWAT. He's tall, and, now, he kinda scares me. He gave me an iTunes gift card, which was on the wish list (all of the family put a couple of things they wanted on the wish list, and it was emailed to everyone). I opened it and was all happy and everything. He was all, "I'm glad you like it, and I hope you use it." Look at that second clause. He said some other stuff to me--he was pretty much grilling me!!! Using some police interrogation scare tactic to see if I was going to re-gift it! Why would I do that? I asked for it. That's the impression I got from him, and I'm not overreacting. I was so put off that it ruined the rest of the night for me. I can't believe this Christmas gift ruined Christmas for me. My cousin, the one he married, doesn't like me at all, and that doesn't help things either. She used to grill me about my weight when I was heavier, and now, she's really snotty to me. She's always been snotty to me, actually. And I was her secret santa. Unbelievable. I wanted to trade with my brother, but I didn't want him to question me about it.

I got her a gift card (which was on her list). She was all being sarcastic when I handed it to her, "I wonder what this is!" She didn't even open it, and she said, "Thanks." Why does me family hate me? This just adds to why I don't really care this holiday season.

Moving onwardly, I do this a lot in my other journal--the one that I write in. I go over the resolutions I made last year and reflect on whether or not I lived up to them this year. So here are last years resolutions with my reflections.

1. Get fit and healthy. Mission accomplished. I am probably at my most healthiest right now, excluding the time when I was a baby and was being fed that mushy vegetable stuff. I'm really happy with my appearance now, more than ever, and I know my immediate family is glad that I got healthier. My Dad is now inspired to walk every day around the neighborhood and to eat better. I've been pushing my parents to eat better as well because I just want them to be around for a long time. Keeping this lifestyle up is the hard part.
2. Be more environmentally conscious. Accomplished. This may sound disgusting, but I always scrutinize the trash in the kitchen to make sure that nothing in there is recyclable. And if there is something recyclable, well, you know where this is going...
3. Try to be more open to people. Uh...still working on that. But I think I'm getting better each year...
4. Be serious. About filmmaking, I mean. Again, not so much. I haven't even finished the Euro film, and I pretty much write more than I film because I don't have a camera of my own. This is something that needs working on.

Two out of four--that's okay, by my standards. Better than none out of four.

New resolutions:
1. Save money. For Paris. It's so important that I have enough money for my year abroad. This means, getting a job (slacker, I know), putting a percentage of my earnings in my savings account, and cutting back on buying things that I don't need. I already have a head start since I put all my money from my summer job into that account.
2. Be a better friend. I suck at being a friend. I forget to send birthday cards, I forget birthdays. I'm really, truly horrible.
3. Stop being such a lazy, slacker bum. Because I am.

That's all I can think of right now.

Repeat the sounding joy

Finally finished decorating the house for our Christmas party yesterday. I know, it's pretty much tomorrow, and we'll probably pack up everything next week anyway. This is what happens when you volunteer to have the Christmas party for the whole fam--uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbors, etc.. Yikes.

Registered for classes. Got into all of them except archery. Not cool. I'm going to crash it anyway and see if I can add it.

Saw Narnia today with Chauncey. It was good to hang out with someone you haven't seen in a while and catch up. Great film. We agreed that the guy who plays Mr. Tumnus is cute. Haha. Afterwards, we were walking, and we talked about Christmas. I told her that I never really felt Christmas. It's weird, but I haven't been feeling it for the past couple of years. I see the decorations, the happy kids, and it's nice and everything, but I feel as if there's something missing. I can't name it.

During the holidays, people (some, not all) are really extra-nice and polite. But once it's over, it's gone, done with. All that goodness is put away, along with all the Christmas decorations, and people are back to being their regular selves. It makes me sad. For some weird reason, I found myself repeating in my head, "Repeat the sounding joy" over and over again while in the car. Like a mantra. And it moved from my head to my lips. I was saying it out loud. Mom asked, "What'd you say?" And then my concentration breaks. I swear, I'm going nuts, slowly but surely.

I went next door to give a Christmas fruit basket to our neighbor. They're really good people. Their daughter went to school with my brother. Anyway, Mrs. L, the mom, opened the door. She was really thankful for the gift. She noticed that I was wearing a jade bracelet. It's a solid bracelet that I sort of writhe my hand into it to put it on. She marvelled at how beautiful it was, how it had slight imperfections and was very clear (it's green, actually, but the light shines through it I mean). She told me how the Chinese (their family is Chinese) believed that the jade reflects your health. Shiny and clear is good; opposite is bad. She was telling me all this history about it, about her own jade jewelry, and how blessed I was to have such a beautiful piece of jade. I always thought it was a pretty cool, but her telling me all this background about it made me appreciate it more. It was such a wonderful gift. And then she says, "You know, I don't tell my own children these stories..."

I felt like bursting into tears right there. They have two daughters, the youngest one is three years older than me, and the other is 26 (like my brother). She's standing there, against the front door in her slippers and all, and she tells me this right after I receive that gift. And the way she said it...it was like she was aching to tell someone these things, it was like she was telling me, "My own children don't want to hear these stories. My own children aren't interested in what I want to tell them." That brief impression lasted for like a second, but I still feel it.

Christmas depresses me, I think.

crybaby

My aunt wanted to see "The Family Stone" (and I secretly wanted to too--2 words: Owen Wilson). Anyway, I didn't openly admit it, but said, when she asked if I'd take her, "Of course." I was expecting some sort of spin off "Meet the Parents", but I was totally wrong. It's a sad movie!

Not a huge fan of sad films, and most of it was not even that sad. But, I don't know--I am so weak!!! There's this one scene. Sarah Jessica Parker and Owen Wilson are lying in his bed (fully clothed), and they're watching the snow fall. He had his arm around her and asked her if she was comfortable and she said yes. It was nice, and such a pretty picture. I guess it really pulled at my heartstrings because tears started rolling down my face. And all I could think was, "Oh God, why am I crying, I'm not even sad!" And yet this flood of tears was coming down, and I couldn't stop. I wasn't sobbing or anything, it was just all these tears! I was embarrassed but glad that I was sitting in a dark theatre.

And then, I don't know why I think they're related but, I had a weird dream that night. I was in a toy store, and there were all these guys there. Just these random guys in my age range. And I was wearing this mask, and they kept wanting me to take off my mask. It was green and on the outside it looked like astro-turf (weird, I know). They were being really nice and all and just kept saying, "Please, Elaine, take off your mask. Give me your mask." And I kept shying away and saying no, I like my mask. This one guy, this one guy that stuck out of all of them, started hugging me and said, "Please, Elaine. Please." And I pushed him away, even though I didn't want to, and I didn't mean it, but I did, and I started crying, underneath the mask and all. And that was it. I guess I'm relating it because of the crying. Dreams are so weird.

I can see the whole meaning behind it, the masks we wear in front of people and all that, but...I'm not even going to go into it anymore. I'm just going insane.

I've been biking around my neighborhood a lot ever since I got here. It's nice alone time, and I haven't biked in years. I live on a hilly culdesac, but the main street that connects the neighborhood is pretty flat. Slight incline, but pretty easy to maneuver. None of my gears work, so the bike home, up the hill, makes me gasp. It's so pathetic. I thank God my neighbors aren't out when I bike up the hill, panting. I resolve to conquer the culdesac!

plans for this week:
1. meet with friends (see Narnia!)
2. Christmas shop (still!)
3. clean up the house a bit and decorate some more for the party
4. start on that other list I made of things to do over Christmas break

currently reading: 1984 by George Orwell. Still one of the most amazing books I have ever read in high school.

simple pleasures

I woke up this morning in the bed that saw me through junior high, high school, and many, many trials of "I wonder how high I have to jump to touch the ceiling."

I thought to myself: "Home." I went downstairs, where Dad was already up. He was eating cereal and watching a documentary on sharks. I went to the living room and sat at the piano bench. I pressed the middle pedal to muffle the music, but my brother heard it anyway. "EEELLLLAAAIIINNEEE!" he moaned. I went upstairs to say hello to big brother.

While he laid in bed, he showed me the new ringtones on his phone, asked me how I was doing, and asked me what I wanted for Christmas. "You said you already got me my Christmas present," I said. "Oh, yeah, that's right." His awesome girlfriend does his shopping for him. He's so spoiled.

Dad is retired. He stays at home and fixes stuff. Today, it was my car. He dreams of driving to Alaska. I push him towards setting the date, going online to research the places he wants to visit, finding a travel agent. He said he'll wait until after they get back from Europe. Mom and Dad are going to Europe for this pilgrimage with our church. They aren't going to Israel or anything. Just to some holy places in France, Italy, and Spain. The priest who I think is boring is leading it.

Mom still works. She works for a county hospital. She works overtime. When she comes home, I know she's tired--an hour drive through traffic will do that to you. But she's still lovely and doesn't complain.

Kuya works his butt off. He takes 12 hour shifts and sleeps weird hours. Dad says he's become stingy because he's saving money for his new home, which he'll be moving into come summer.

I vegged out today. Just for today. I played some piano, and then I asked Dad if I could ride my bike. I'm still used to asking my parents for permission for everything. I hope that never leaves me. He said sure, and he put air in my tires. I felt like a kid again. I rode down the street--we live on a hilly culdesac. And then I went around the neighborhood.

When you're a kid, you have it so good. It's unbelievable how good it is. I'd like to think that I have it both--I'm childish and adult-ish. Who wants to be serious all the time? Not me.

ny new obsession and so long, SF!

Okay, so they got this awesome new arcade game at the Student Center. Imagine DDR, but with...A DRUM SET. Hi-hat, bass pedal, and everything. It was so cool! But it costs $0.75. Boooo! I played it twice. Very fun. The instructions are in Japanese and some of the songs too. I told L., who played as well, "If I strike it rich, this is the first thing I'm going to buy." I can't wait to get back to school so I can rule at the drums. Maybe I should just spare myself the trouble and buy a set of drums. Haha.

I'm at the hotel with my Dad. Free-internet access! So I can dork out away from home too! Oh, wow, I just referred to my apartment in SF as "home". We're going to walk to In-N-Out later for dinner. Yum! It's cold out, but I'm in the mood for a strawberry milkshake.

I'm looking forward to being home (parents' house). There are so many things that I have to do, that must get done. I've realized how much I've been slacking this past semestre by only taking three classes. I know some people who take 18 units a semestre and work. I've been so easy on myself, and I really shouldn't. So, I'm stepping it up next semestre, loading up on classes, volunteering at my site, and finding a job on campus. Oh, man, I'll be so burnt out by summer.

things that I must do over break:
-read (at least 4 books)
-finish Euro film
-film films (L. and I have this music video idea)
-not spend an obscene amount of time on internet
-do Oasis (an online Library requirement for school)
-figure out what you're going to do this summer
-study French and do as many French things as I can
-meet-up with friends

backgrounds I've been mistaken for (for Chauncey):
-- mixed: Filipino-White, Chinese-White, Hispanic-White
-- full: Japanese, White, Hispanic, Portuguese, Hawaiian, French, and Persian

potential classes for next semestre:
1. French Review 1
2. French 216 (grammar and composition)
3. Intro to Cinema Studies
4. Intro to Filmmaking
5. Archery (so cool!)
6. Intro to Philosophy

my last day

Yesterday was my last day at my volunteer agency. It was fitting. I helped the girls decorate their Christmas tree. I taught one of the girls, M., an easier version of "Fur Elise". We ate burgers and had cake. I gave them all some candy I had bought at See's. M. then showed me her room--the first time ever--and wanted me to watch this video she made for a health class. It was really good and hilarious. I'll never forget it. I was so happy that she let me in, that she wanted me to stay, to teach her more piano. She hugged me on the way out.

I think I'm going to go back. Go back and volunteer next semestre. How funny. I mean, 4 months ago I was dreading going to my volunteer agency, and now...It's different. I like helping out, being with the girls and playing piano with them. I've been so selfish and lazy. But now, I feel like I've made a difference in someone's life. It's just piano, but...I don't know the fact that it's music, and it's good just means everything to me. I got them interested in piano. That's so cool. Giving back is so rewarding. Thank you God for putting me through this. For this experience.

I just had my last French class. Madame asked us to bring some food or drinks to share for our last class, and I brought Orangina. T. gave me a little present, this mints tin that's shaped like a guitar. Whenever T. and D. and I had to practice for our French skits, he always brought these mints to share with us. I told him that I'd take it to France with me and take pics with it in front of the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower. I gave them presents too: one of those French word-a-day calendars and a mix cd I made with songs that remind me of winter or Christmas.

I'm so sad that I might not see them again--both of them weren't sure about continuing French. But I'm glad that I met them and had these classes with them. Good people. It's always nice to meet good people.

I don't think I ever wrote about him before, oh wait, yes, there's this guy in my French class, Th.. He sits with these other people across the room. Anyway, I wrote about him before a while back--I was studying and I looked up and saw him looking at me, and I kinda got weirded out. Anyway...two days ago, I saw him on my way to Borders. He didn't see me, but I saw him and he was riding his bike (those ones with the skinny wheels), and he was wearing this newsboy's cap and had his backpack on, and it was really cute. I mean, the sight of this guy on his skinny-wheeled bike made me so happy. Guys on those skinny-wheeled bikes are cute. They're abundant here in SF.

I was walking out, and I saw him unlocking his bike from this guard rail outside Humanities. I walked towards him and said, "Bye, Th." He looked up and said, "Oh, bye."

"Are you going to continue French next year?" I asked.
"Yeah, 205."
"Awesome, I'll see you there!" And I walked away.

Can you believe it? I spoke to this guy for the first time on our last day of classes. I walked away thinking, "Oh my God, I'm Supergirl." I was so happy. I mean, two years ago, I would have walked the other way and totally avoided him.

So, I'm filled with joy and happiness. Is it because it's Christmas? Is it because of this cold, winter air that fills my lungs, the Christmas lights, the carols, the gingerbread cookies? I went over my Christmas presents money limit. I've spent to date over $250 on my friends and family. And I still need to shop for my friends back home. I don't have a job. I don't even care. This season is all about giving, and if I have to eat pb&j for a while next semestre, then so be it. So be it.

Guilt

I feel horrible for joining MySpace. I mean, it encompasses so many things that I detest and am fighting against. And yet it's just another easier way to be in touch with friends who are far away, know what they are doing, and be connected to them. Plus, they all use it.

It didn't use to be this way. I mean, we used to just email each other or IM each other. I'm not a fan of IM anymore because it allows me to have second-rate conversations. I mean, I can IM this person and do other stuff at the same time (like watch a trailer on Apple, type up a paper, shop on Amazon). That's not communicating, and that's not fair to the other person. Maybe I'm just old-fashioned, but I like hearing people's voices and speaking to them face to face.

I'm torn. Being the old (as in fashioned, still) person that I am, I don't want to conform. And yet, I don't want to be left out while everyone I love continues without me, joining this site or doing whatever else has been concluded to be "in" and "easier". Easier in a sense that, we can be lazier and complete things with the least amount of effort. Can there be a healthy balance of both? Can I continue the old ways, fight for them, try to turn everyone back to what used to be done, what should still be done? Written letters, fountain pens, sealed wax, and conversations over tea and not over the internet?

Am I just as bad for having a blog? I don't think so, since it's original intent was to get my thoughts out there to friends, but mostly anyone with internet access who loves to read about weird, random experiences, moments with strangers, and just my life as a 19 year old girl who is trying (very hard) to live this life to the fullest. I want this to be meaningful, this blog I mean. I don't want to waste people's time. This blog has been meaningful to me, and I hope I haven't wasted your time this year.

And please, help me bring back the old ways.

For Narnia!

Not cool.

Okay. So...I'm on MySpace. The truth is, I've been on MySpace for like two months. I'm so sorry, guys. Please forgive me. I've been lying to you all that time. I'm so bad. I only joined because I wanted to view Thrice's MySpace pics, and you had to have an account to view them. I made one and barely used it, but now I'm using it to keep in touch with my friends who are far, far away and fam. I totally foresee myself wasting an endless amount of time doing crap on that site. I really hope that won't be the case. Here's what I wrote in my blog there. http://www.myspace.com/gunslingergirl3. Ugh.

Titled: my last blog...forever!

Kidding. Okay, so I caved in. I gave up. I've decided to make this thing public and ask my friends to be my friends again just by clicking a button. E-mails are out; MySpace is in.

I'll try not to make this thing a nasty habit (i.e. being here all the time). I just want to be easily accessible to my friends, as if e-mails aren't easy enough. Oh well.

For Narnia!

So there. Please leave me nasty comments on how you hate me, and how I'm such a hypocrite, and the like. I totally deserve it.

Christmas is all around

It's such a nice feeling to walk around a public place, like a mall, for example, and to see all the Christmas decorations, and people shopping for presents, and kids waiting in line to sit on Santa.


Went to the mall after Mass (obvious) to get a present for my brother. I don't think I'll write what I bought him because he told me he visits my blog. Was at the food court with L., and we saw this cute guy standing by a pillar and dabbing his pizza with a napkin. You know, to get the grease off. We both laughed, not within earshot of him. It was just a cute, funny thing to see. We also laughed for different reasons. L. laughed because of the dabbing. I laughed because he was standing by that pillar and not sitting down like the rest of the people eating at the food court. I also laughed because he also had this bowl of roasted potatoes with him. Pizza and potatoes. Guys are hilarious. They are so weird. Like, why won't they heat up their leftovers? Whenever my brother eats leftovers, he eats them straight out of the fridge. Sick. I'll never understand.

Anyway, I should get back to working on my final papers and stuff. Ugh.

Christmas wish list:
1. peace on Earth (maybe not this year...sigh)
2. anything Thrice (a cool vinyl of "The Artist in the Ambulance" maybe? I wonder if they still have those.)
3. anything French: travel books, The Harry Potter books in French...
4. assorted dvds and cds

is this what happens?

One of my other roommates has at least one fight a week with her boyfriend over the phone. He lives back in her hometown. It makes me sad. I asked her if she needed anything after their...thing over the phone...and she was all, "No, I'm just sick." These walls are paper thin.

Is this what happens when you're separated from your boyfriend? I hate fights. But I don't have a boyfriend, so maybe I shouldn't be worrying about this. For a while. Yeah...Let's change the subject!

I went to my French prof's advising hours to see exactly what classes I should take next semestre. There's a 205 (French Review) and 216. But 215 should be taken before 216, and 215 is only offered in Fall. Quite the conundrum. Or however you spell it. She leaves me in her office--the door wide open--and goes across the hall to these two other French professors. One of them I recognized her voice because I had her last year.

They start talking rapidly (in French, mais oui!) in hushed tones. I hear my name being repeated several times by both my current prof and my former prof. The other prof is like interjecting and agreeing. And all I could think was, "This is so cool! When will three French people ever mention my name and discuss my future? I wish I knew everything that they were saying. This is cinematic." I wish you could have seen my face while I was just sitting there in her office, listening to all that was happening outside.

Madame P. (my current prof) walks in and sits down behind her desk. She tells me that she was discussing with her collegues what would be the best plan for me. She says that I am in the top 10, no!, not top 10, top 5 students in her class. I smile, a bit embarrassed. Top 5, really? Yes, you are a good student. I blush. She tells me to take on 216 next semestre and 205. Will it be tough? Yes, but I think you can handle it. You will be ready for Paris. Paris?!?! Yes, Paris. It will be good for you.

I thank her profusely. She smiles back. You're welcome. I leave.

I am the happiest girl alive! Yay for studying what you love! It definitely pays off!

Woo-hoo tomorrow is December! Yay for Christmas!

headache

Ouchy. I don't know why I have a headache. I drank some water, maybe I'm just dehydrated. Maybe I'm just realizing that these next two and a half weeks are going to be insane. I have three papers, three final exams (not bad), an oral presentation in French, 12 hours of volunteer work to complete, and a Francophone festival to organize. Not to mention numerous presents to buy for my friends here in SF and Christmas cards to write. It's really not that bad, and I shouldn't be complaining because I know other people have it worse, but I always seem to stretch things out of proportion which in turn stresses me out. I have to remind myself that I'll get through this. That I shouldn't take stuff so seriously, that these two weeks will pass quicky, and then I'll have some six weeks of glorious vacation.

Six weeks of freedom...I'm salivating already. I get to go home, spend time with the fam and my friends, read some books, and finally finish editing the video. Kuya wants Dad to take me to the shooting range. I want to go to Old Pasadena--I can't believe I've lived in so cal for so long and have never even been there. I want to go to the LACMA and the Getty. I want to take pictures and put them on cinematic. There's so much I want to do, I don't want to waste each day of it. God, help me get through these two and half weeks.

mmmm...tasty

I ate more last night than I have ever eaten in one day in SF. Totally worth it. Had Thanksgiving at my cousin's in Valencia (nearby Six Flags). Pretty nice place. She just moved in with her husband--they got married this summer. She's a cop, and he's in the SWAT. He's the sniper. How cool is that? He's super tall and very nice.

I bought Tchaikovsky's "The Seasons" for the piano. I am learning June Barcorolle. It's tough, but I really want to play it well. Yay for pianos!

Went to the mall today with C., my best friend since grade-school, and her little sis, not to buy anything, but just to see all the craziness. Actually, she was shopping for her secret santa. We looked at puppies at the pet store in the mall. Cute, little guys. I saw this awesome siberian husky, he looked fierce. We had dinner at California Pizza Kitchen afterwards. Good times.

Technology hates me today. At first the internet wasn't working in the morning. And now the cd magazine in my Mom's car ate Vheissu. It won't give it up, it just loves it too much! It won't play the cd either. Ugh. I have to figure this out before my parents find out. I don't want to tell them what happened...

French In Action

Today in French class, I went up to my prof and asked what class I should take next semestre. It's kind of difficult because there are only a few classes being offered. She said that I was "a pretty good student." That comment made me do jumping jacks in my head, "YAY! I'm a good student!" And then I thought, "Wait. She said, 'pretty good'. She qualified it." She said that I might be able to handle one of the harder classes, but that she'll get back to me. So, I really can't wait until next semestre. Yay for learning foreign languages!

I was watching a bit of tv with L., and we came across this French instructional program called "French In Action", a sort of teaching aid for students. We watched it a bit, and there was this guy who looked just like Mike but without glasses. I freaked and was all to L., "That's him! That's what Mike looks like! How bizarre!" We laughed at the coincidence. And then I was swooning because French Mike was speaking French. Be still my heart...

And then, later, I found out something else that's bizarre and coincidental--I have the same flight number for tomorrow as I did when I left on Thursday. Flight 384. Same flight time too. Weird. I don't know why I'm so sensitive to these things, I just am. I don't think it's a sign or anything, it's just weird how connected and repetitive things are.

Or maybe I'm still hung up on this whole thing, and I'm just seeing things that aren't there. Elaine, listen to the voice of reason, you will never see this person again, and it's better this way. You don't want to see this person again. That one meeting was all that you needed, and nothing more. Leave it. Let it be unique. Let it stand out. Remember that time, but always look forward because the future is beautiful, the future is beautiful...

Sorry, I just had to reassure myself.

I cut myself in intro. to archaeology with an obsidian flake. We had an awesome guest lecturer, a prof from UC Berkeley who came to make some rock tools for us. He had all this obsidian and other rocks and made these really neat flakes and handaxes right in front of us. It was so cool. They were passing the flakes around, and stupid me, I grabbed the wrong end and cut my thumb. You wouldn't think a rock would be so sharp...I didn't make a scene or anything, but I quickly stuck my thumb in my mouth and sucked out the blood. It hurt so bad! After the lecture, we all got to take some flakes home. Pretty neat. This one girl got to take home one of the handaxes because she got the highest grade on the last test!! I was so heartbroken. I was in the top ten. Oh well...

my first crush--ever and thank you

This morning, I watched "The Journey of Natty Gann" with L.. I loved this movie when I was a little kid. This movie and "Stand By Me". Just watching this movie brought up an old memory that's been buried deep in my subconscious. When I was a little kid, I had a thing for John Cusack. I mean, he really looked out for Gordy when their Dad didn't care, he pretty much saved Natty from starvation--what an awesome guy! Oh, and that scene between him and Natty, right before he gets on the bus...Of course, I was young and could not comprehend the idea of a "crush", but he probably was my first movie star crush. Who was yours?

Thrice is performing this Tuesday at the House of Blues in LA. I was hoping to go straight from the airport to go see them play, but Kuya can't pick me up and take me. It's cool. I hope I get the chance to see them in the near future. It's nice to know that they have a break for Thanksgiving, time to be with their family and friends. Being on tour all the time and away from their fams must be rough. Especially if you're married, like Dustin (singer/guitarist) and Teppei (guitarist) are.

Happy Thanksgiving all, and take care!

What I'm thankful for this year:
1. God (always): Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to send me signs.
2. the fam and my friends: You're always there for me, and I can count on you. Thank you for your love and support on this rough, shaky path that I have chosen for myself.
3. the girls and the staff at the group home where I volunteer: I have learned from you many lessons that I would never have received from any class.
4. Thrice and their newest album, "Vheissu": Thank you for delivering this album at the most perfect time in my life. I needed this. Thank you for growing with me. I can't think of any other band to grow with, and I'm glad that it's you.
5. strangers who smile at me and make me feel beautiful--you always make my day: Thank you, Mike, where ever you are. You are just a glimpse of things to come, a world I have yet to know. You give me hope that I will find my soul mate. You restored my faith. There are amazing, passionate about life, old-fashioned guys out there, albeit they may be few. How can I ever repay you?
6. an education--my professors, my TAs: You guys do an amazing amount of work for dirt. I wish I could give you the money of millionaires. Thank you for office hours, for giving us back our homework and exams in record timing, and for having an amazing sense of humor. Your work is noble and selfless.
7. you, dear readers: Thank you for visiting, for being here with me, for reading me whine, lament, cry, rejoice, laugh, grow, mature. For your advice, love, and support. For making the numbers in my counter go up. You are amazing, and thanks for sticking around.

Loads of love,
Elaine

clarity

Sometimes I have to remind myself how amazing a certain song is and how it affected me the first time I heard it. For me, it's "Table For Glasses" by Jimmy Eat World, the first song that made me believe that a band's music can be cinematic. It plays on my iTunes as we speak. Any group of individuals who can make the sentence "sweep the dirty stairs" musical and beautiful is genius.

I first heard this song on a road trip to San Fran.. Just me, Kuya, and Donny, my cousin. Incidentally, I am eternally grateful to Donny who first introduced me to Thrice. He was helping another band with their first cd, and they thanked him by giving him a Thrice cd, the "First Impressions" ep. I am now the proud owner of that cd--he gave it to me for my birthday a while back since he knew how much I love them. He also met Teppei! Anyway, Kuya put that song on, and it changed the whole mood of the car. Everyone was silent, listening to the song.

I was moved. Speechless. "To make sense of it, make it last." Amazing. Beautiful. I'll never forget our silence, the endless stretch of green and yellow farmland, and Jimmy Eat World blasting on the stereo. After the song ended I asked, "Who was that?"

"Clarity" came at the perfect time of my life. As did "Vheissu". It's lovely when things work out like that.

I leave for home again Tuesday night. Another flight home. None of them will ever compare to Flight 384, though. I swear, there's something about airports. I love them. Great for people-watching. It's nice to know that someone is seeing a new place for the first time, that someone is needed somewhere, that someone is starting somewhere new.

plans for Thanksgiving vacation:
1. eat turkey and mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie and...
2. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (maybe?)
3. shopping for Christmas presents
4. playing some piano: I really miss not having a piano. I love the piano and am really glad my parents got me to take lessons. So invaluable.

I go on

God, what a beautiful week. It's unusually sunny here in San Fran.

All this sun + a great weekend + that chance meeting on the plane = a glowing happiness that fills me and overflows. I am unbearably happy. So happy that I woke up earlier than usual just because it felt good to be awake and alive.

Yesterday, I was walking home, and my eyes were on the ground like they sometimes are. And I saw a keychain on the ground--one of those personalized ones that have your name on it. This one said Michael. How bizarre. I smiled to myself. I imagined him in Hawaii (that's where his honeymoon is taking place) with his gorgeous wife soaking up this same sun, and I was happy. I can go on, knowing that he is happy and has his one true love. True love exists. I hope to have what she has years from now.

I must learn firstly. To be complete without a man. To be able to stand alone. Only then will I be ready for my perfect other, my soul mate. Mr. P (my high school English teacher) once told us girls that you shouldn't have a boyfriend because you need one. It's the total opposite actually. You should have one when you're already complete, already independent, or else you'll never be able to stand alone.

I should write about Las Vegas!! Sorry I've been so hung up on this guy. Before we left, we got new cell phones--our contract was about to expire. Kuya got this way cool one that flips open and has a keyboard, sort of like a Sidekick. I got one that has a camera on it and the ability to listen to music. Mom and Dad just got simple camera phones. It was neat. The family plan, haha.

The drive was wonderful. We listened to Louis Armstrong (dad's favorite). Mom told me all about the plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas. XMAS will be at our house this year! We arrived at Monte Carlo--Mom's favorite place to stay because she feels lucky there.

Mom and Dad gambled mostly. I expected to be by myself, as Kuya is such a poker fiend. But he opted to hang out with me most of the time, which was pretty cool. We went to the new Fashion Mall I think it's called and the shops at Caesar's. He wanted to go to the new Wynn to get tickets for a musical his girlfriend and him are going to see when they come back in December. An enjoyable time.

For Dad's birthday, we ate at this fancy restaurant in Aladdin called Elements. Swanky, but a good time. Dad got birthday creme brulee, haha. We started singing "Happy Birthday" to him and right after the first line Dad just blew out the candle, and Mom, Kuya, and I stopped singing abruptly and were kind of sad. But it was hilarious. That's something Dad would do.

The day of my flight, we went to Mandalay Bay for a little while. Mom won $500 on the slots. She was very happy. Dad broke even. Kuya won $200. Good times. They dropped me off at the airport. Dad was all, "Don't get sweet-talked by anyone." I think he was upset about me talking to the guy on the plane. I had told them all about it (but not about the "one" stuff--yikes!). I have a good gauge of who to trust and who not to. He's just being Dad, being protective of his little girl, and I'm glad for it. Happy Birthday Dad!

Things I bought while in Las Vegas:
1. Paul Frank shirt at the Paul Frank store
2. Smith's Rosebud Salve at Sephora
3. Perfumeria Gal's Apple fragranced balm at Urban Outfitters: I have a thing for balms in tins. I'm starting to get a pretty good collection actually.

I met the man I want to marry Thursday night

Not exactly. The man I met on my flight embodied all the qualities I'm looking for in a man, and...Well, grab something to drink and/or eat--this is a bit lengthy--while I recount that fateful Thursday night on Flight 384, OAK to LAX. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I had enjoyed experiencing it.

I was sitting on the terminal floor in line A Gate 25 writing in my journal with all the other people waiting for our plane to arrive. Ten feet across from me, sitting in those rows of chairs was a young man, I guessed in his late 20s or early 30s. He looked like a business man, except that he had a kind face, unhardened by the demanding pressures of working and commuting. He was on his cell phone. Our eyes met for a brief second. And then I went back to writing; he went back to talking on his cell.

Before boarding the plane, I knocked twice on its exterior, a little thing I do before getting on planes. I took the window seat in row 8--something I usually do if its available--situated myself and my belongings and continued writing in my journal. A few minutes later, I saw the same man walking down the aisle. I saw his face more clearly this time. He had mousy brown hair, not too long or too short. He wore black rectangular rimmed glasses, black slacks, and a shirt that, I wrote in my journal while I observed him putting his bag in the same compartment that held my duffel, "looks like graph paper". Except with green lines, not light blue. He sat in my row, just one empty seat between us.

Thank you, God. The grown-up version of the boy with glasses has decided to sit in my row, of all the other empty rows in the airplane, he chose my row. I kept writing in my journal, writing about the grown-up boy with glasses who sits a seat away from me holding what looks like an essay in his hand. Is he a teacher? Is he going to correct that paper on the way to LAX? I looked at his left hand. No ring. A guy like that doesn't stay single. He has a girlfriend. No, better yet, I thought, he has a fiancee, and he's going home to her. Lucky girl.

I put my journal and fountain pen away. For some reason, fountain pens act funny on airplanes. At least, that's been my experience. An older woman, in her early 40s perhaps, asked him if there was anyone else sitting next to him. He said no, got up to let the woman through, and sat back down. How polite.

Our plane was heading toward the runway, the young man got out some papers from his back pocket. He turned to the woman next to me and said, "May I get you a drink? I have some coupons here for complimentary drinks. I fly a lot and get these coupons." He speaks! Thank you, God. I listened to this as I stared outside the window. Will he offer me something? Probably not, I'm only 19. The woman said, "Are you offering? That's very nice. Yes."

"How about you, Miss?"

I turned to them, he was looking at me with his gorgeous blue eyes, and the lady was smiling at me too. I smiled and said, "I'm not legal."

"WHAT?!?!" They both reacted. I guessed I do look older than I really am sometimes. "How many more years?" he asked.
"Two," I said.
"So you're 19." He said.
They both had this attitude, Oh we don't care that you're not legal, but I didn't press the matter any further. The woman--Ms. Baker--I saw it on all these Blue Book composition books that she had on her lap--joked, "I'm old enough to be your mother!" I laughed and the man said, "I'm old enough to be...your older brother!"

He introduced himself. His name was Mike. He's a broker and sells chocolate to companies like Swiss Miss. The way he spoke about his job, you could tell that he loved it. He wished that he had samples to give us. Miss Baker said she was a history professor. They asked me what I was studying in college.

"French Cinema. French, as in the language, and Cinema--it's separated." His eyes lit up, "Do you want to make French films?" I said that I didn't know, maybe.

We talked about why we were going home. He was going home to his fiancee. I knew it! We got our drinks. They both got white wine, while I was drinking Sprite. He told us that he's getting married on Saturday. We congratulated him and clinked glasses. It was nice.

He talked about his fiancee and all the stuff he's going through with the wedding. You could tell that he was really excited and jittery and just happy. He talked the most out of all of us. He told us these great, funny stories, and he spoke with such passion, and he was just hilarious. I swear, I've never laughed so much on an airplane before. What was funny the most was that he didn't even seem his age (31). When he spoke, he was like a kid--just excited and fumbling over his words in a cute, awkward way, but telling a really great story that was satisfying to the end.

It felt so good to be in his presence, to be a tiny part of this stranger's life. When he told me to go backpack through Europe because it'll be the best time of my life, he looked me in the eyes when he said it, and I felt beautiful in that moment, deserving of his words. When he spoke, I noticed that we made a lot of eye contact, he and I, and then he'd occasionally break to look at Ms. Baker. It's funny, I had no problem making eye contact with him. He made me feel comfortable. In those moments, I thought that Mike is the type of man I would want to be with for the rest of my life.

Before we landed, he got out this Winnie the Pooh dvd case that was in the pocket of the seat in front of him and handed it to Ms. Baker saying, "Because I enjoyed your ladies' company tonight, I thought you should have this..." Ms. Baker and I laughed out loud, and he was all, "I found it in here, and the dvd's gone--it's probably in someone's computer somewhere." Ms. Baker said, "I think you should have it, you're the film student." She handed it to me, and I said thanks and placed it in my backpack. (It's on my desk right now, a rememberance of that night).
I never wanted the flight to end--I just wanted to listen to him talk and tell his funny stories. We walked out of the plane together. He joked out loud, "I forgot the rings!" And then he started laughing. I laughed too. And then I did the craziest thing I have ever done.

He was heading towards baggage claim, and I felt like saying something to him, something better than good-bye or congratulations. I wanted to tell him how he had made me feel--me, this unexperienced girl of 19 who has yet to have a boyfriend, yet to have any sort of romantic relation with the opposite sex. I wanted him to know that he had made a profound effect on me.

So before we parted ways, I stopped him and said, "Your wife's a lucky girl, and I hope I find someone like you." Tears were forming in my eyes as I said this, but I think I did a good job of holding them back. I held out my hand to shake his. Instead, with his right hand he half-hugged me--putting his hand behind my back, and my left hand went around his. A full hug might have been too awkward, and both of us were already carrying a lot of luggage on us.

I walked away, trying not to look back. I had to let go. I felt like he was the "one". Or, he was a type of the "one". I know, how naiive of me to think so, but I really do. I mean, he's everything that I want in a guy. I was so close. But everything was off. I'm too young. He's 31. I'm off by a decade. And he already met his girl.

I imagined if things were different. If he was 1o years younger or if I was 10 years older and he hadn't met his (now) wife, then...maybe it could've happened. He could've been the one. Will there be others like him? Oh God, please say yes. Please let mine find me, like Mike had found her. I can't get this close, and not get any closer. Someone like Mike. Like Mike.

I waited beside the curb for my brother thinking, "What did I just do? He probably thinks I'm nutso. I probably ruined the whole travelling experience for that guy with my stupid farewell words. Some geeky college student who's probably never talked to a boy for more than 10 minutes fell in love with me on the airplane. I can see him telling his wife-to-be that on the phone. I can see both of them making fun of me, telling their friends about me. I am a laughing-stock for 30somethings and their friends, a story they would tell at dinner parties. I am such a loser. What, 'Good-bye and congratulations' isn't enough, Elaine?"

I stood beside the curb feeling stupid. It's alright. He doesn't even know my name. That whole time, I didn't even say my name. It's okay. I'll never know what he really thought of me. I'll never see him again.

A familiar graph paper-like shirt entered my vision. He was walking past, maybe ten feet away from me, and he was on the cell phone. I got one last look of him. He saw me, and he smiled and waved.

I'll never know what he really thought of me.

Où est-ce que je vais aller d'ici?

Where am I going to go from here?

Last night was one of the most eye-opening nights of my life. For a few moments, I caught a glimpse into my not so distant future, and I was terrified and excited. Let me recount...

Last night, I went to a little birthday get-together by Le Club Francophone's president, E.. She said to meet her at her office--I was getting a ride from her. So, I went and met her friends, S. and R.. Both women. S. went ahead to reserve a table at the restaurant. I should probably explain a little more about them just so that they're more than the names I give them...

E. just turned 41, which is amazing because I would have guessed that she was 10 years younger. She has a French background--her Mom is French. I don't know how old R. is, but I'm guessing in her early 30s. She is of Arabic origin and teaches Arabic. S. is a grad student for French and is in her early 30s.

As we were walking to E.'s car, R. turns to me and says, "You are cute! You have such a nice face." I was a bit taken aback by this compliment--especially to have it come from someone I just met.* It was also nice because she speaks with an Arabic accent. I'll never forget that moment and how good it made me feel. It was spontaneous and unexpected and it will probably never happen again. I mean, when will a woman of Arabic descent ever tell me that I have a nice face? I'm still glowing from it. Also, E. talked a bit about her birthday history...she said that she used to be really depressed around her birthday and not do anything because her family was so far away, and her husband had left her...I had no idea. I just never would have thought that would be her history. She's such a nice, funny woman. It was just shocking. She went on saying that she got over it and that she should go out and be with people on her birthday because it only comes once a year and that there's no use in being depressed on your birthday.

As she spoke of these things, I saw myself in her, like a reflection of myself in her eyes as she spoke of being alone on her birthday. Because I'm like that too. I get pretty depressed around my birthday and just want to be alone.

We arrived at the restaurant. Everyone ordered alcoholic drinks except me of course. It was funny because E. got carded! When she showed the waitress her license, S. was all, "You're carding her, and look how old she is! It's her birthday!" We teased E. a bit, but she didn't mind it. I was the youngest person at the table. It was awkward, but pretty cool. So this is what adult women do. They order extremely large margaritas and appetizers and talk about their problems, politics, and women's stuff. It was very interesting.

Afterwards, E. drove me home. She put the car in park right outside Humanities and started giving me this pep talk. She started off saying that we need a new President for the club and how my name came up. She said that though I may not see it now, I have a lot of leadership qualities. I thought, "Uh...I earned the nickname Prufrock back home. Are you kidding?" I laughed out loud when she had said it, and she replied, "No, I'm serious, Elaine. I believe that if you had to do something, you would get out there and do it." She told me how my TA and French professors think that I'm a great French student and how she believes that I can really keep the club from dying.

In hindsight, I really wonder if she means these things or if she's just pushing me to be president next fall. I told her last night, "I'm scared. But I would do it to save the club." She was thrilled. But I said would. I'd hate to see the club in shambles just because we couldn't find someone to be a president. And I like being a part of the club.

She then rambled on and on about her French graduate work and all the stuff she's going through. I was exhausted, I had to pee, and I couldn't breathe in her car--we were still parked with the engine running and no air. I noticed that the windows in the back were fogging up. But she wouldn't stop talking, and I didn't have the heart to stop her. She told me that I should get my Masters in French and blah, blah, blah. She then let me go--we were in the car for an hour and a half--and apologized for keeping me out so late, but I said that it was okay.

Wow. That was too much. I feel like French is becoming more and more of my career, more than film. Will it be possible to pursue both? At the same time? I don't want to have to let go of either of them. These questions plagued my mind on the walk home. What's going to become of me?

This little weekend getaway I'm going on came at the right time. I have a lot to think about. Have a great rest of the week all, and I'll post next week. Check out the sugary confection on "cinematic".

*Now, if only a boy would say that to me. Sigh...

pretending is fun

I was at Hallmark getting a birthday card for Le Club Francophone's president. It's her birthday this Tuesday, and she sent this mass email inviting us to dinner this Tuesday. I'm going because I need to get out (as in socially). Back to Hallmark, I found a birthday card that was in French, and I thought, "Hey, that's pretty cool." I stood in line, looking at the card, and got this weird idea in my head.

I should act like I'm French.

I wanted to see if I could pull it off, if I'd go through with it. I mean, it's just acting, and it's not hurting anyone. She greeted me Hello, and I said Bonjour (a little softly). I handed her the card--making sure that she saw that the card was in another language, haha. She smiled at me, and I smiled back. "Two dollars and sixteen cents." I opened my wallet (I hid my CA driver's license beforehand just in case she saw it--I am so good!) and counted the change carefully. I wanted to give her the impression that I was unfamiliar with her currency, haha. I can't help but laugh as I write this. I even examined one of the new 2005 nickels I had for like 4 seconds. Good thing I was the only person in line. I gave her the money, she gave me my card and the receipt, and then I said, "Merci" and got out of there.

It was fun, pretending to be someone else. I wonder if I fooled her. Anyway, I'd never done something to that extent before. My best friend from my hometown, Ch., and I have these aliases that we use when we go to Starbucks or when we write letters to each other. It's pretty funny. Sometimes we forget we're using them, and the Starbucks guy is calling out our fake names and we have to remind each other that our coffee is ready. Try it sometime, just don't forget your fake name.

Books I want to read over Christmas break:
-- 1984 by George Orwell: I really liked this book in high school and feel like reading it again.
-- Emerson's and Thoreau's works: We only had to read excerpts from them in high school. I feel that their stuff is on a human being's required reading list. Oo! <-- that's really funny looking! I just said that out loud right now. Imagine a little kid raising his hand excitedly because he knows the answer to a question. Oo! Ooh! Oo! I just got a cool idea: make a required reading list for all of human kind. What a task, I don't think I can tackle it.
-- Everything is Illuminated by Foer: T. from French said it was good, and I read some excerpts and was intrigued.

things I must get from home to bring back to SF:
1. hairbrush: I only have a comb here!
2. Zissou cap: My cousin was working at Tower records, and they were promoting "The Life Aquatic." She knew that I was an Anderson fan, so she saved one for me. Yay for family!
3. piano books: for the girls at my volunteer agency
4. earrings: for prettiness
5. Thrice dvd "if we can only see us now": I've been dying to watch it.
6. 2002 journal: I need it as an aid for the Euro film I'm editing (still). All my notes of the places we visited are in there.
7. my small change purse: for change
8. Mom's camera (?): I'm going to ask Mom if I can borrow her digital camera so I can document all things cinematic and documentable.

Why is it so important...

...to find love? The internet is filled with sites that'll set people up with other people: eharmony, match, whatever. What's the big hurry? Most of the time, the answer is right in front of them. Love is in front of everyone. Love will come to you when the time is right. At least, that's my belief. I probably shouldn't say anything, I'm still young. Watch, 10 years from now I'll be blogging, "I'm sick of this loneliness--I'm going to eharmony.com to get me my soul mate."

How old is too old? I feel that if I haven't found him by 28 (28 is an important number for me), then I might never find him. We might never find each other. I often think, is he thinking about me? Is my soul mate thinking about his soul mate? Are people really perfect for each other? I know my parents are...they're amazing together. They balance each other out. Made for each other. Will I be able to match their happiness?

I'm not looking for a boyfriend. It'd be nice and all, but this independence thing I've got going on is great. This might pose a problem for me in the future. I might never get a boyfriend because I won't know how to. I mean, how do I proceed? I'm hoping that it comes like...riding a bike. One minute it's wobbly and scary and you're still being held on by the seat and handle, and the next second you're off, on your own, it's no longer scary, and it's actually quite fun. You had it in you, kid, all you needed was a push.

On verra. It's French, it means "we'll see". We most definitely will.

I'm sick of eHarmony.com commercials.

something of substance

Sorry I've been filling my posts with useless things. What happened to me? Whatever happened to my observations, my feelings...Whatever happened to guys like the boy with glasses and the CK model? What's with this rut?

Here's something of worth. I was at the market the other day. I reuse the paper bags they give so I can get refunded. I had two paper bags filled with stuff, and this old man came up to me. He said, "Will you be using those bags?" I looked at my bags--they were filled. I said, "Sorry, sir, but yes." He said, "That's alright. Thanks." And he walked away. I looked again at the bags and felt selfish and stupid--I can cram all that stuff into one bag. I know I can do it. I emptied one bag and crammed it all into the other. It worked. I went inside and looked for the old man. He was near the entrance, pushing a cart.

"Sir?" I handed him the empty bag. He smiled and grabbed my hand and shook it. "Thanks," he said. "No problem." I walked away and felt light, airy. Like my next step would just be on air, and I'd drift or something. It was nice. This feeling. I helped someone. Right now, my bag is holding groceries or is being stored somewhere so that it can hold future groceries. It's nice to know that. It feels good to help people. Try it.

It's raining here right now. It's nice. A week from now, I'll be at home where it's probably 15 degrees warmer. Also nice. Next Saturday is Dad's birthday. I'm flying down Thursday night and then we're driving up to Las Vegas for the weekend. Vegas, baby, Vegas. I won't be able to do much seeing as I'm not legal, but I will get to be with the fam, so that makes up for everything. I'll probably window-shop while the parentals hit the slots, and Kuya plays poker. I'm bringing my book that I'm currently reading (Lottery and Other Stories by Shirley Jackson), my ipod, some paper if I get any good story ideas, and NO HOMEWORK. There is no way I'm going to do homework on the weekend of my Dad's birthday. No way.

I updated "cinematic". Take a peek. Have a beautiful weekend everyone.

mmm...boredom

Found this on another blog. I don't know why I like filling stuff like this out...

10 Favorites:
Favorite Season: Fall
Favorite Sport: anything that's not too competitive
Favorite Time: when the sun hits the horizon
Favorite Month: December
Favorite Actor: right now, Matthew Fox
Favorite Actress: Audrey Hepburn
Favorite Ice Cream: strawberry
Favorite Food: anything tasty and good
Favorite Drink: right now, cranberry juice (100%)
Favorite Place: my room

9 Currents:
Current Feeling: I can't tell
Current O/S: Huh?
Current Windows Open: blogger create post
Current Drink: see fave drink
Current Time: 22:09
Current Mobile(s) Used: Verizon
Current Show on TV: who knows?
Current Thought: what am I doing?
Current Clothes: pajama pants, t-shirt, Paul Frank slippers

8 Firsts:
First Nickname: little princess
First Kiss: Never! I am totally serious.
First Crush: Fox Mulder. Again. Serious.
First Computer: It had DOS...that's all I remember.
First Vehicle I drove: white E-class Mercedes Benz
First Job: State Farm
First Movie: Stand By Me
First Pet: never
First Shave: Sometime in middle school.

7 Lasts:
Last Chai (Tea) : The day I moved out of the dorms.
Last Movie: Dawn of the Dead
Last Time I Drove: August
Last Time Shaved: This morning
Last Web Site Visited: Thrice's
Last Software Installed: Quicktime 7
Last Pill I Had: my vitamin this morning

6 Have You Evers:
Have You Ever Broken the Law: nope
Have You Ever Been Drunk: nope
Have You Ever Climbed a Tree: Yes
Have You Ever Kissed Someone You Didn't Know: eww.
Have You Ever Been in the Middle/Close to Gunfire or Bomb Blast: no. scary!
Have You Ever Broken Anyone's Heart: I don't think so.

5 Things:
Things You Can Hear Right Now: the computer's lulling hum, the TV in the other room, the heater, street noise, a skateboard rolling down the sidewalk
Things On Your Bed: comforter, sheets, pillow, bear, sweater
Things You Ate Today: cereal, yogurt, salad, chex mix, chicken in a pita pocket
Things in Mind: Am I wasting my time? Am I wasting my reader's time?

4 Places You Have Been Today: French class, Marine Bio. class, market, and bed.

3 Things on your desk right now: altoids, pens, clock

2 Choices:
Black or White: black
Hot or Cold: cold

1 Thing You Want To Do Before You Die: go to a Thrice concert

hilarious

Why do funny things happen to me when no one else is looking? Friday night. Food court at the mall. Both of my friends went to the restroom, and I was sitting there people watching. Then a massive wave of long blond hair brushed up against my face and landed on my shoulder. EEEWWW!!! The lady sitting at the table behind me was fixing her hair, unaware of the grossed-out girl behind her. I made my "disgusted-in-a-funny-way" face (I make this face all too often) and looked around to see if anyone witnessed this display. Nobody. I laughed at myself, and then scooted my chair closer to the table. HILARIOUS!!! My friends came back--I retold the story as we headed toward the stores, and they were cracking up. I swear, the funniest things happen to me only when God is watching.

Halloween. All the weirdos are out. I was going to buy a ninja outfit. The ones where you can only see my eyes, but I don't have the money--I really should be saving. Because I have to eat...Oh, gosh, talk about saving, I spent a wad of cash Friday night. I bought a really cute olive green eyelet skirt and a warm vest. I'm very attached to this vest, and I'm not even a vest person. It's brown, made of cotton, lightly padded--not like those puffy nylon ones like Michael J. Fox's in "Back to the Future"--and it has a removable hood with faux fur lining around it. It was fate. E. (our friend that works at the pool hall) and I were looking at all the outerwear vests, and I was saying that I'd like one that didn't look like any of them and that had a fur-lined hood. Then, we were just standing around--L. was in the fitting room--and a salesperson puts back this cute, brown, lightly padded, hooded vest on the rack facing us. E. and I both looked at each other, and I knew that at that moment we were both thinking, "Wow." I was all, "This is the vest." E. said, "That is so you--try it on!" And it fit! I felt like Cinderella but without the prince. The prince can come in later...I got a really cool vest! I looked around for another one of its kind, but there weren't any. How unique.

It was a bit pricey...but I rationalized it:
a. I rarely go "clothes shopping"--I usually just like looking around and if I find something that fits, is unique, and compliments my wardrobe then I usually go for it. The vest fits all of my criteria.
b. I can wear it for Thanksgiving (the skirt too).
c. There is no other vest of its kind.
d. From now on, my money will only be for groceries and this year's Christmas gifts (I got your b-day/Christmas gift, Chaunce! Keep an eye on your post next month!).
e. I want it! I want it! I want it!

Happy Halloween everyone! I love fall.

What I love about fall:
1. the leaves changing colors
2. warm clothing
3. apple cider...all things apple in general
4. enjoying a good book with some apple cider
5. Thanksgiving
6. the approach of Christmas

And as for Halloween...things that gross me out:
1. maggots
2. slutty girls
3. really thin, unnatural looking eyebrows
4. being touched by strangers
5. zombies

This is sad...

I have more evidence for my recluseness: two of my flatmates asked if I wanted to go watch "The Shining" with them at one of the dorm buildings, and I said, "No, thank you though." I'm so sad. I do have a good reason though: I watched that film two weeks ago. Also, two days ago all my flatmates except me ate dinner together (I had leftovers from the night before!), and they all ate breakfast together this morning. I woke up early this morning and ate half an hour before them.

I'm not avoiding these group things--it just so happens that some reason gets in the way. All my flatmates are pretty talkative. They talk about their day and what they did and all that. I find that I don't do that at all. I'm pretty much the listener in the household. I really don't mind it--I love to listen. I don't like to talk much; I don't know why. Writing's funner. I'm so weird.

Tomorrow, I'm going to watch L. perform a scene from "Romeo and Juliet". She signed up to act in some student's film/play this semestre, and she's Juliet. How awesome is that? The guy who plays Romeo is Japanese, and some of his lines are in Japanese. It's like a West-Side story-ish thing going on. She gave me her camera, and I'm going to film it at the back of the theatre.

I made my photo blog. It's over there in the links section. I'll let you know when I update it. I'm excited for my photo blog. It's going to be fun...

changes

There are going to be some changes around here...Don't worry, I hope you like them. I want to add a picture page with photos I've taken so you can see my cinematic side because I love being behind a camera as much as wielding a pen or typing my thoughts on this computer. This won't be up for a while--I don't have a camera here or my photos, and I keep bugging L. to use her camera, and I don't want to bug her anymore. So, maybe in mid-December it'll be up. An early Christmas gift for you, dear readers!! So yeah, that'll be fun. I really do hope you like my photos.


I really love blogging here. I'm glad I didn't just stop because nobody was reading it. (Thanks for changing my mind, Mark!) Writing in here just so other people can read/comment here isn't really the point (but it is nice). The main thing is to write, to get thoughts out, to have a creative way of expressing yourself.

This blog is such an amazing outlet, and it's really helped me grow. My friends can read it, anyone who has an internet connection can read it actually, it's not exclusive or anything, and I ask nothing of you in return. You can come here and read, you can leave a comment or not. Whatever. This isn't a popularity contest. There will be no "adding" of "friends". There are no labels; this is no facade. This is all me, and it's the straight truth.

Anyway, I just want to thank you, readers, for coming here, for reading my posts, for your comments, for your advice and love. I feel like I don't say this enough, but thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for growing with me and investing time out of your lives to visit me here. You have no idea how much it means to me. I really hope that you are happy with the direction my blog is taking, and I'm glad that you've joined me on this journey.

it's here

This will be quick. I got my packages!!! Yes, Vheissu is finally in my hands. I received the Best Buy order yesterday, and I got the Tower order today. And it's all thanks to my friends. L. was downstairs yesterday and just casually asked the front desk if Elaine had a package, and the person at the front desk said yes. L. told me to go downstairs because my package was there. I didn't even receive a package slip. Usually, you get a package slip in the mail saying that you have a package. And then, today, L. was picking up a package downstairs and I was with her. The person working the front desk, M., is in Le Club Francophone with me and said that I had a package, and she just gave it to me right there, no paperwork. Thank you God for L. and M..

So, I am happy. Finally listened to Vheissu straight through, and I was blown away. It's just unbelieveable to think that I listened to this same band in 8th grade not knowing, not even foreseeing how far they would go and how much they would accomplish. I'm in college now. Time is so crazy...I must go and study for tomorrow's midterm though. Have a beautiful week.

Vheissu favorites at the moment:
1. between the end and where we lie
2. atlantic
3. music box
4. red sky

beauty

"Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in." -- Ricky Fitts, American Beauty

Yesterday was amazing.

I wanted to get out and be by myself for a while. I didn't want to stay in and study like I had the weekend before, and I felt that I needed a change of scenery. I woke up with the intention of going to Irving Street, the place I frequented most when I stayed up here for one week in the summer with my brother while he did his rotations at UCSF. I was 15.

It was gloomy, as always in south San Fran. I waited for the M line. Across the street, there were four guys filming with an Arriflex camera. They were getting shots of buses stopping on 19th and Holloway. I wished that I could work with them, that I was knowledgeable in Arriflex cameras and in filmmaking in general. The M came and cut off my view of them.

After all the tunnels and stops, the moment the tunnel ended, and we were a bit more downtown, the sun was shining. I didn't think it would be possible. How could the sun shine here and not shine in south SF? I got off nearby UCSF and proceeded to walk down to Irving.

I stepped into a few shops. Saw a cute hat at Crossroads. Wishbone is my favorite, a cute boutique that sells Paul Frank, Gama Go, stuff for your home, and more. I was looking for a new wallet. Something unique and special and within my price range. I found it:
















I had to turn my driver's license over in the top left pocket so you wouldn't see my face. Haha.

I continued walking around, passing people, enjoying the liveliness of the neighborhood. Everyone was out, smiling. It was like each person had something to be happy about, that there was some secret in each person's mind that was all theirs and that no one could take it from them. I wanted to know the secret; I wanted to find my secret. Or did I always have it, and maybe I just lost it in my brief moment of despondency? It'll come back.

I took the N line back. It was crowded, but I was able to have a seat near the window. There was a husband and his wife and two kids, a baby boy and a little girl a couple feet in front of me. The man had a stroller with him, and it was taking up most of the aisle. Another man, trying to walk past them yelled at the father, "You gotta fold that f*****g stroller, that's a fire hazard." The father got angry, how dare he use that language in front of my kids? I couldn't believe it too. But the father didn't retaliate, and instead, let the man through as best as he could.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to punch that other man in the face, I wanted to go back in time and maybe get in the next car so I wouldn't have to witness what I just saw. I let it go. This is life. This is what happens. Three stops later, the wife and the two kids were getting off the car, but not the husband. He helped his wife take the stroller out and got back in the car. The little girl, the daughter on the platform waved and said, "Bye, Daddy." I watched the Dad, standing in front of me by the door. He waved and said, "Bye." He turned and saw me watching him. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. All is not lost.

patience

I can't believe how much patience I have. Sorry to keep rambling on and on about this, but Vheissu is still not here. I'm glad that I didn't break down and walk over to Tower to get it. I got a reply from Tower, and they said that it can take up to 21 days to get to me since I paid for standard shipping, which I forgot about. So, whatever. I can wait. I mean, I've been waiting for other stuff to happen in my life that hasn't happened yet, so I can wait for this. Okay, enough of Vheissu.

I might be the new piano teacher for my volunteer agency. One of the girls at the group home is interested in playing the piano, and I told her that I was going home in November and that I'd bring back some of my piano books and that she can make copies of it so she wouldn't have to buy actual books. I told the staff about making the copies, and they were like, "Well, you can be the piano teacher!" I told them I'd think about it because I don't feel as if I have the experience to teach piano. They offered to pay me, and I said that I'd do it for free just so I can have the hours. That's probably why they want me to do it. Anyway, I might end up doing it.

I did something really embarassing today. So I was walking to CIC to turn in a paper, and there are two guys coming toward me. One of them is on a razor scooter, the other is just walking. Scooter guy is going really, really fast. He veers to my right to avoid crashing into me, and for some reason unknown to me, I step to the right, and I'm maybe five feet in front of him. He freaks and swerves more to the right, and I go back to my original path. The guy walking laughs at what had taken place, and I blush and laugh at myself.

Why did I do that? I swear, I'm so weird sometimes. I can't even begin to explain why my body took control and wanted to scare that scooter guy. I didn't mean to scare him at all. My mind is an enigma and plots to embarass me and make me look like a lunatic. It's just like when I laugh at stupid things in class that nobody else finds funny. Why am I so weird...

did some grocery shopping:
1. Lactaid
2. whole wheat pita bread: I really like whole wheat now. And it's good for you!
3. cheese
4. romaine lettuce
5. Dove conditioner
6. oatmeal

WHY!?!?!

I'm so sad right now. It's nothing serious. It's just that...Vheissu hasn't come in the mail yet!!! I was expecting it last night--that's when all the mail is sorted and everything, and it still hasn't come! The Tower order is who knows where, and the Best Buy order is in New Jersey. NEW JERSEY!!! I'm tracking it, and it went from Ohio to Jersey. It's going the wrong way!!!

Last night, I watched Jimmy Kimmel, and Thrice was amazing, as always. They also did a signing at Tower Records afterwards. I was reading the message boards, and a lot of people wrote that not too many people showed up for both. That made me kind of sad. I wished I could have been there to support them. If only I had the money just to fly down for one day and let them know how much they mean to me. Oh well, it's not to be.

Today, Le Club Francophone is having a poetry reading, and I have to read a poem in front of everyone. I'm not looking forward to it at all. I just want to get in there and get out. I'm also not looking forward to trying to speak French with the other officers and members who are more fluent than me. I can write French fine, but I have difficulty speaking it. I wonder if I'll ever get fluent.

if you know what's good for you...

...you'll check this album out. It's pretty amazing. Just a suggestion.

Isn't it exciting when your favorite band comes out with their new cd? The day comes, and you take the trip to Best Buy or wherever you get your cds (in my case, I'll be waiting patiently by the mailbox), you purchase it, and you lock yourself in your room playing the cd, reading the liner notes, the lyrics, the thank yous...It's just such an amazing ritual. I love being able to do this.

Fortunately, I bought two of their cds: the special edition and the regular--I am a dork. They had this special thing where if you buy it at Towerreccords.com you get a limited edition 7" and then a couple weeks later, I found out that if you buy it at Bestbuy.com you get an exclusive track and podcast download. At first I was angry at Island Records for doing this to Thrice fans. I wrote them an email that was just a bit angry. Later, I asked Kuya for advice, "Should I buy the cd at Best Buy too? So I can get that exclusive track?"

"Do it, Elaine. It's Thrice. They're your band."

Kuya convinced me, and so I bought it, and now I will be eating peanut butter sandwiches for a week or so. Thanks a lot, Island Records for taking advantage of poor, starving music-loving college students. I did it for Thrice, though. They're my band, as Kuya said.

Okay, so my archaeology mid-term wasn't that bad, but I am glad that it is over with. Oh, we got a new apartment-mate. I'll just call her our new flatmate. Flat is much more cooler. Anyway, her name is N.. She's pretty cool. I noticed that she has a lot of stuff. It's as if she brought everything she has ever owned into our apartment. I'm cool with that, it just made me realize that I'm a pretty light packer. Or at least, I didn't bring a lot with me here to San Fran. My side of the room is really, really sparse compared to L.'s or my other flatmates. I guess it's because being here only feels temporary, and my home will always be in so cal, so why should I bring up all my crap?

I think that when I have my own apartment up here (I'll only be here for college), my place will be really, really sparse. If you looked at it, you would think a hitman lives there or an assassin. (You know, because they're never home, they're always out doing what they got to do.) But when I move back down, my new place, my real home will be the total opposite. It'll just be an explosion of all my crap at my place because I would have totally moved out of my parents' house with all my stuff, and I have ton of stuff. I save almost everything. It's kind of sad, and it's a habit I'm trying to kick, which is why I'm living like a spartan up here. "Simplify, simplify," Thoreau once wrote. Maybe I'll put up pics of my side of the room later.

countdown

There are a ton of things that I can't wait for (or can't wait to get over with), so here is a list of them:

17 Oct.: French skit, archaeology mid-term
18 Oct.: Thrice's Vheissu released, Thrice performs on Jimmy Kimmel
19 Oct.: Le Club Francophone poetry reading
21 Oct.: paper due
24 Oct.: First Aid session for volunteer agency
25 Oct.: marine bio mid-term
28 Oct.: Halloween sleepover with friends
10 Nov.: go home for Dad's birthday

Obviously, the stuff I can't wait to get over with is all academic. I don't understand why I'm hating school so much. I only have three classes, but I only really care about one of them--French. I mean, I love to learn just as long as the teacher is good at what he's doing. But all I really want to learn is French and filmmaking. That's it. How sad it that? I'm not very interested in anything else right now. I hope I get out of this mindless funk.

Also, I don't know why I'm never really satisfied by the present or by the immediate present. It's always the future that I'm looking forward to. I'm not happy about today because I have loads to study, or tomorrow because I have to meet with my French group and work on our skit. And it irks me just a bit that I don't have much social activites in my calendar. I'm a bit of a recluse. I like being a recluse, but it just saddens me a bit.

Here's a funny pic I took a while back. Random, I know.

a dream and a past vision

I had the most beautiful dream last night. I was at my old church in my hometown. It was night. Then suddenly, a thought came into my head: "I can fly." I levitated a couple feet off the ground, then higher, and I started flying home. The stars--there were loads of them--shined brightly, then my hometown transformed right in front of me into some old European town. I knew it because of the old buildings. These buildings, circa who knows when, where lighted from within. To the right, I saw a stretch of forest and a dark lake that was glittering from the starlight. I tried to get higher and higher, but each attempt would bring me closer and closer to the ground. I alighted in front of a tall green gate. I remember holding the bars of the gate in my hand, but never entering. I just stood there in front of the gate. I can't recall what was beyond it, it was dark.

What a magical dream. Does it mean anything? I get déja vu a lot, which I think is abnormal. When I was a junior in high school, I caught a glimpse of my past life, or one of my past lives. I never told anyone about it. Later, my friend told me that she had a dream that I was in, and it confirmed my past life because she described me as I saw myself when I had the vision. It was really bizarre.

I was in my brother's room studying for an English test. He has this bright halogen lamp that I was using to read. I must've got bored of studying, and I looked into the lamp for quite a while and was quite hypnotized by it.

It's World War II. I'm in the body of a nurse in a field hospital tending to an American soldier. Everything I did, I had no knowledge of doing. A junior in high school should not know how to do these things. The other nurses were speaking to me in French, and I spoke back in French, not knowing that I had such a grasp of the knowledge. The soldier I was helping, he was young like me, handsome, and asleep. One of his eyes was bandaged, I can't remember which. I felt such a connection with this young man who was in my care. Then everything got really, really bright, and I was back in my brother's bedroom.

Every time I try to think about the vision, I find that I can't remember pieces and parts. Like I'm slowly losing it. That's all I can remember right now, but I'm pretty sure I wrote all about it when it happened. It must be somewhere in my journals at home.

Anyway, a couple days later, my friend told me about this dream she had. It's World War II. She's waiting at a street corner for me. I walk up the street to meet her wearing my nurse's uniform. We start conversing in French and smoking cigarettes as we head to a cafe. So bizarre. I told her what had happened nights ago, and we were both pretty freaked.

I don't know why I told you that story...Now you know how weird I am or it just adds to the list of my bizarre qualities.

that's my new hair!

Or rather, that's my new haircut over there by my profile. I was getting tired of my Amelie pic, so I thought that it would be hilarious if I just had a pic of the back of my head, instead of giving you the front of my face. Funny, no? My roommate took it with her digital camera since I don't have one. That's my bed and desk in the background. That red clip I'm wearing (it's actually red with black stripes) is my favorite clip in the entire world, and it's my mother's. The pic's a little blurry, which adds some mystery.

Anyway, you wouldn't be interested in what I look like...Or would you? Do you need to know what I look like? After all this time I've been here, do I need to show my face to you? Some of you already know what I look like (Chaunce, Catherine). Is that fair? Maybe I'll unveil myself, one facial feature at a time. I'll give you one of my eyes, and then my forehead, and then my chin. Haha. I'm just thinking out loud. Don't count on it.

In other boring news, I'm starting to do stuff left-handed. I need the change. My right hand does everything, it really needs a break. I've been using my computer mouse with my left hand. So far, it's going good. Tomorrow, I'm going to eat breakfast with my left hand. I wonder if I can become ambidextrous. How long would it take to teach my left hand how to write? It's like first grade all over again. I should get those handwriting textbooks with the huge lines all magnified and everything.

My film is almost completed! I just have to add credits and titles and some effects. I'm really happy with it considering I had a limited amount of shots and scenes to work with, and I wasn't the one with the camera. 99% of it was filmed by my brother.

Hope everyone has a great week!

to waste your time...

My friend sent me one of those questionnaire thingies thinking that I wouldn't do it, but I did! Take that, Chaunce. Now, it's here for you to enjoy:

1. What time did you get up this morning? 7:52.

2. Diamonds or pearls? neither. not much of a jewelry person.

3. What is the last movie you saw at the cinema? Transporter 2. Eh.

4. What is your favorite t.v. show? It's a tie among Lost, Arrested Development, and The Office.

5. What did you have for breakfast this morning? Scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice. And my daily vitamin.

6. What is your middle name? Grace.

7. What is your favorite cuisine? That's a tough one. I can't answer that.

8. What foods do you dislike? I dislike foods that are poorly prepared. Anything has the potential to be really good, it just has to be made well. I'm weird.

9. Your favorite potato chip? The ones made in a kettle--they're really crunchy. Yum.

10. What is your favorite CD at the moment? Thrice's Vheissu, even though it's not out yet. I can't stop listening to their podcasts and the little snippets of songs that they put out. Yay for Thrice!

11. What kind of car do you drive? At home I drive a '89 BMW 3.25i. Dad sold the convertible, which I'm still bummed about.

12. Favorite sandwich? In Cambridge, I had the best chicken bacon sandwich ever near Queens' College. I'll never forget it and will probably never eat a sandwich like that again--unless I go back to Cambridge.

13. What characteristics do you despise? ungratefulness, bad manners, vanity, selfishness, snobbishness, know-it-allness.

14. Favorite item of clothing? My growing collection of sweaters.

15. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation where would you go? For vacation, probably Prague during spring. Greece for the summer.

16. What color is your bathroom? A boring yellow.

17. Favorite brand of clothing? Anything unique and different and flattering. Anything no one else would wear.

18. Where would you want to retire to? France.

19. Favorite time of day? Dinnertime.

20. Where were you born? Long Beach.

21. Favorite sport to watch? Not a sport, but I like seeing people run for their lives in movies. Running from zombies, whatever.

22. Who do you least expect to send this back? "ummm Elaine?" Haha, I'm doing this just for you, Chaunce.

24. What laundry detergent do you use? Tide.

25. Coke or Pepsi? Coke. Pepsi's too sweet for me.

26. Are you a morning person or a night owl? I can be a bit of both if the occasion calls for it.

27. What shoe size do you wear? 8.5

28. Do you have pets? Nope.

29. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with everybody? My Chemical Romance saved my life, along with other artists and geniuses. My life is constantly being saved by strangers and dead people. [haha, wrote this in a post too.]

30. What did you want to be when you were little? A doctor. I was brainwashed!

31. Favorite candy bar? Anything with nuts or a cookie crust or toffee. Twix is good.

32. What is your best childhood memory? Spending summers outside with my neighborhood friends. We owned that cul-de-sac. Camping with my fam at the beach.

33. What are the different jobs you've had in your life? Receptionist at State Farm. Ugh.

34. What color underwear are you wearing? Purple.

35. Nicknames? Prufrock, Lainy, Noel (by my parents), Elaine Grace (by my nor cal cousins)

36. Piercing? Just the ears.

37. Eye color? light brown. sometimes they look olive. Dad says that I was actually born with opal eyes, kinda like a gray.

38. Ever been to Africa? No.

39. Ever been toilet papering? I wish!

40. Love someone so much it made you cry? I've been so infatuated that I would cry.

41. Been in a car accident? Thrice. The third one saved my life.

42. Croutons or bacon bits? Croutons as long as they're crunchy.

43. Favorite day of the week? ALL DAYS ARE THE SAME.

44. Favorite restaurant? For "bad" food, Tommy's burgers and Pink's hot dogs. Thai BBQ is also very good.

45. Favorite flower? Hydrangea.

46. Favorite ice cream? Strawberry.

47. Disney or Warner Bros.? That's a toss-up. For now, Disney because they have the Narnia films coming out.

48. Favorite fast food? Who doesn't love In n Out?

49. Color of bedroom carpet? A weird amalgum of blue, orange, and green. It's like church or school carpeting.

50. How many times did you fail your drivers test? None!

51. Before this one, whom did you get your last email? An email from Island Records telling me to pre-order the new Thrice cd. I already ordered it from Tower!

52. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? Maybe IKEA or Borders.

53. What do you do most often when you are bored? Go online, read, write something, do some chores.

54. Bedtime? Around 11.

55. Who are you most curious about their responses to this? Just sending this back to Chaunce, who thought I wouldn't do it. Shame on you. Hahah

56. Last person you went to dinner with? Lombard at the DC (dining center).

58. What is your favorite color? Green

59. How many tattoos do you have? None. Am thinking about one, but don't like the idea of desecrating my body.

60. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? "Or" came first.

61. How many people are you sending this to? Just Chaunce.

62. Beer, Wine, or Fu Fu Drink? What is Fu Fu, seriously? None of these drinks. I like sodas in bottles though.

63. What type of sheets do you have? the cotton type

64. What time did you finish this email? 11:41 a.m.

do you know?

I have a paper that's due tomorrow, but I chose to write here because, dear readers, you are more important to me. And this is more fun.

I was on the bus tonight going home from the agency where I volunteer at when an elderly lady sat two seats away from me. The man between us got off at the next stop. The lady looked at me, and I smiled back. I've been smiling at strangers lately. Anyway, the lady got up and sat next to me and started talking to me. She did most of the talking, and I did the listening. She asked where I went to school. "There," I pointed at the school outside the window. My stop was coming up. Then she said,

"What do you want to be?"
"I don't know." I replied.
"Be a doctor."

I said goodbye and left her. I laughed at myself crossing the street. Why did I say I didn't know?

I do know, I just didn't want to say it, especially to this stranger. I know what I want to be, but I don't know if it will ever really happen. Does that matter? Does that change the answer? I want to be a filmmaker. I want to be a writer. I want to be a world traveller. Any of these sentences would have been sufficient, but I had to say I didn't know.

I want to be happy. That's sufficient enough for me.

Plans for this weekend:

1. grocery shopping
2. study for archaeology, marine bio, and French
3. hair cut? : I really need a haircut right now. My hair is hideous. I was going to be a cheapskate (and risk taker) and have my roommate cut my hair. Just trim it. I asked her at the beginning of the semestre if she'd be cool with that, and she was. As a joke though, I got this picture out of a magazine and handed it to her last night. "I want my hair to look like that." She stared blankly at the picture, and after a few seconds I started laughing so hard. "I'm only kidding!" She started laughing really hard, and we laughed together. Good times. Anyway, am thinking of a cute, short layered bob kind of thing with a bit of fringe. That's what the pic looked like. We'll see.

one step toward not being a Prufrock

Yesterday, I was with my French group, D. and T, and we were practicing our causerie (oral skit). They've been my French class friends since last semestre. After practice, D. mentions that he has an extra ticket to the My Chemical Romance concert this sunday and was wondering if either of us wanted to go.

I would have said no even if I had nothing to do and even if I loved their music. But I didn't. I said yes.

I said yes! I said yes! This is not normal Elaine or Prufrock behavior. I'm not too fond of being in the middle of large crowds of people. But I said yes because...I really wanted this. I want to be there, and I want to hear their music in person. Even if that means having to be in the middle of a large crowd of people.

I told Kuya and thought he would be really excited for me, but the weirdest thing was that he wasn't. He kept telling me to be careful and all that big brother talk. He just sounded like he didn't want me to go. Which is funny because I remember him telling me to have fun during college and not be such a study hermit. After, I was thinking of bowing out, making up an excuse for D. so I could not go. And that's when I started crying.

It was just instantaneous, a severe reaction to the thought of excusing myself from this activity. I cried so hard that a tiny capillary in the skin beneath my eye had burst. It's a bit red, but not that noticeable. I kept repeating in my head, "Life paralyzes me. Life paralyzes me." I worry too much. I never take chances. I'm not living to my full potential. I'm not alive.

I calmed down. Remembered all those things I wanted to do before things get macabre and realized, this is one of those things. If I drop dead next week (God forbid), then as least I got to see My Chemical Romance perform. This is something I have to experience.

I'll let you know how it goes and take some pictures hopefully.

thrice!

Left to right: Teppei (guitar), Dustin (vocals, guitar), Riley (drums), and Eddie (bass)

As you know, I can't wait for the new thrice cd, "vheissu", that's coming out in Oct. As such, I've been spending a lot of time on their site, listening to their songs, reading the ramblings section, and so forth. I just remembered that I was still a member of the Thrice Alliance. Kinda like an online club with cool perks--you get to buy tickets early and sign up for meet and greets. They also have the Q&A section where members can ask Thrice questions. So, I asked them two questions...And I got the responses today!! Check it out:

Asked by 9/25/2005 by elaine
hey thrice, this is a nerdy question but, does the morse code at the beginning of "image of the invisible" actually spell out anything? thanks.

Answered 9/27/2005 by Teppei
yes it does.

Asked by 9/26/2005 by prufrock
i read that one of your goals was to make the record more "cinematic". would you, as a band or as individuals, consider doing the score to a film? thanks.

Answered 9/27/2005 by Teppei
i think that would be great fun.

How cool is that?!?!?! I was so excited that I was jumping up and down in my room right after I read that. I used "prufrock" for the second question because I thought that maybe if they saw my name twice they'd only answer one of my questions. Anyway, it's on the thrice website if you want to see it for real or are interested in their music. http://www.thrice.net/

It's funny...I love Thrice. I can't say that about any other band or musical performer. I have this strong affinity for them because I grew up listening to their music. I feel like they had some sort of hand in raising me, in making me into the person I am today. Sort of like an older brother. Thrice is my other older brother. Haha. From record to record, their music changes. Not drastically, but you can hear the changes. And they're beautiful changes, signs of their growth as a band and as individuals. Thrice saved my life. I can equate certain songs and each of their records to certain times in my life. I can remember listening to a certain song when I was young and thinking, "This is why I have ears." (that song is "In Your Hands" on "Identity Crisis".)

And they're such good people. That's rubbed off on me too. They donate a percentage of their sales to charities that they support. They're not the type of band that's promiscuous or promotes drinking and taking advantage of girls. They promote reading books, and asking questions, and searching for answers. What a rarity these days!

I found this quote the other day from the bassist, Eddie Breckenridge: "Like, there’s some magazines...they’ll be like, “Strippers or..blah, blah, blah?” And we would just be like, “Neither. Like, I would never date somebody that doesn’t have respect for themselves.” And they’ll just have like this blank stare and be like, “Oh….okay.” Because so many people expect people in bands to be a certain way and I’ve always loved being that person that’s not what you expect. Not that I would say something like that, just because it’s not what somebody would expect. But, I just love seeing people’s faces when they expect us to be some partying, crazy, promiscuous band. And we’re not that kind of band...And I hope that we would be a positive influence on others because I think it’s really important to respect other people."

Lovely, lovely. What great role models! Has a band changed or saved your life?