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