Did I have a good summer? For the most part, yes. Would have kept enjoying it and really develop a taste for it if the means by which I could entertain myself (the harsh reality that money makes the world go round and my dead end job is what keeps my particular world spinning on its axis) wasn't desperately running low. So, regretfully, I returned back to school.
Best and worst choice I ever made was taking a full day off yesterday for my birthday. I spent the whole day watching movies, eating junk food, moseying about the city and disconnecting from the media devices I've becomes so attached to so that I could appreciate even more. Ah, such a wonderful wonderful day. That was the best part. The worst part...that it was yesterday and today paled in comparison to yesterday.
Phasing back to reality is taking a little longer than usual this year, as you may be able to tell.
I'm at home tonight walking a few blocks of memory lane. Did I do all I want to do this summer to satisfy spending 10 months of waiting until I can live it up as a "free woman" again? I don't know just yet....I'm still in that phase of shock that my summer is over. I drove through downtown after work this afternoon silently cursing at people who appeared to not have anywhere like work to go to. Jealously of a temporary carefree existence that they have an extension on surged through my veins as I remember mine has been ripped away from me as of this Monday. I doodled sandbuckets and shovels repeatedly in my notebook during endless hours of inservice meetings, despite having no interest of going to the beach or seasides during my summer breaks. I spent one day out of this whole summer in any form of water other than a shower, but I'd spend a whole week in stagnant public pool water if it meant I could live wondrously amongst the land of the living again for a few moments longer.
Oh, I cannot say that summer didn't have it's woeful moments. There were the moments of complete and absolute boredom when I didn't really have anything to. There were the failed summer romances that I lived and had to recover from in the same breath. There was the lack of financing to allow me to truly live things up.
But there were all the delightful moments that I can remember as well. The nights staying late with friends talking about nothing. There were the nights where the air was just cool enough to sit on the roof of my car and listen to soundtracks I spent the whole day making for moments like those. There was the wandering aimlessly through downtown streets observing the city I live in. There was the moment I remember stealing a kiss on the middle of South Congress at 3am in the safety of knowing no one would be passing on that street in the middle of the night on such a day like this. Because normal people would be asleep and hours ago, they'd gone to bed in preparation for a job that would awake them in the morning.
It's the same sort of existence I've returned to myself.
Yes, oh yes. I think I really enjoyed the summer to the fullest of mine own expectations. I'll take that good despite that bad and daydream about its loveliness until I can revisit those moments again.
-the end-
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Seeing elephants makes me giddy. I heart my friends and their willingness to indulge my absurdities.
A very near and dear friend of my called me see what I was up to and "if I wanted to do something." Doing "something" usually entails that I meet him up at a certain local coffee shop that's 24hrs that hardly anyone knows about (and, I'd tell you what that place is, but I like that nobody knows about it. So, there.) and we talk aimlessly and pointlessly until we both tire ourselves despite the copious amounts of caffeine we've just drunk. It was what I had planned to do as normal until shortly after getting off the phone with him to get ready, the news reports presented a fine piece of media tidbit.
At 11:30 pm, The Ringling Bros. Barnum and Bailey Circus were coming into town and the elephants would be let out for a walk over near Bolm and Springdale. Your plans change considerably when you are provided with such wonderful information.
Totally on.
What makes life interesting sometimes is when you make plans and you force friends to just go along with it without telling them what they are in store for. It tests their loyalty to you, and it provides you with telling information about what your friends think of you and the type of stuff you're willing to subject others to as they try to figure out what the hell you're up to.
Needless to say, I didn't tell my friend Dave that we were going to see elephants.
He went through a round of guesses and I believe he truly considered that we were about the embark on an adventure that would lead to both of our arrests. Unfortunately, he somehow managed to guess what we were about to do at the last minute. This became a disappointment for both him and me...because compared to the excitement of being apprehended, seeing elephants get off a stupid freight train sound pale in comparison.
But we went anyway, and you know what? When you see live elephants...freaking huge as life pachyderms...get off a train and politely hold each others "hands" waiting for their next destination as if waiting casually for a bus, it's pretty damn amazing. And shortly thereafter, I stood there in complete awe of these massive beautiful creature as I turned 29 years old.
Best birthday present to myself ever.
-the end-
At 11:30 pm, The Ringling Bros. Barnum and Bailey Circus were coming into town and the elephants would be let out for a walk over near Bolm and Springdale. Your plans change considerably when you are provided with such wonderful information.
Totally on.
What makes life interesting sometimes is when you make plans and you force friends to just go along with it without telling them what they are in store for. It tests their loyalty to you, and it provides you with telling information about what your friends think of you and the type of stuff you're willing to subject others to as they try to figure out what the hell you're up to.
Needless to say, I didn't tell my friend Dave that we were going to see elephants.
He went through a round of guesses and I believe he truly considered that we were about the embark on an adventure that would lead to both of our arrests. Unfortunately, he somehow managed to guess what we were about to do at the last minute. This became a disappointment for both him and me...because compared to the excitement of being apprehended, seeing elephants get off a stupid freight train sound pale in comparison.
But we went anyway, and you know what? When you see live elephants...freaking huge as life pachyderms...get off a train and politely hold each others "hands" waiting for their next destination as if waiting casually for a bus, it's pretty damn amazing. And shortly thereafter, I stood there in complete awe of these massive beautiful creature as I turned 29 years old.
Best birthday present to myself ever.
-the end-
Friday, August 14, 2009
"I gave fair warning that tonight would not turn out like you expected it would."
Tonight, I got dragged to the opening of a new Westin Hotel in downtown Houston. I do not have enough fingers or toes on my person...on your person...on the person of all of my friends combined to count the number of things I would have rather done tonight. But, as a favor to a friend who needed a little more organized fun and excitement cum free drinks, I went. Needless to say, I ended having spent more money on this evening and not one of my drinks was comped. I did however, leave a good smudge of dirt and grass on those fancy Westin sheets as jumped on their fancy overpriced beds with my heels on.
Still, that sort of satisfaction barely covers one of my paid drinks.
A word to the wise...don't ever let an invitation to any sort of grand opening of any kind convince you that you are going to have a good time or that you are special. An appearance only to said event only demonstrates how much of a glutton for punishment you are. Suckers are a dime a dozen and you and the rest are now standing in line for a free drink that will never come.
We did, however, go to a lovely dive bar called Kay's Place I ended up thoroughly enjoying. I could take off my heels, swill a few Lonestars, and talk shit and rabble rouse to much saner folk who realized paying 3 bucks for a pint is a price worth paying considering what you have to go through freely for "free".
-the end-
Still, that sort of satisfaction barely covers one of my paid drinks.
A word to the wise...don't ever let an invitation to any sort of grand opening of any kind convince you that you are going to have a good time or that you are special. An appearance only to said event only demonstrates how much of a glutton for punishment you are. Suckers are a dime a dozen and you and the rest are now standing in line for a free drink that will never come.
We did, however, go to a lovely dive bar called Kay's Place I ended up thoroughly enjoying. I could take off my heels, swill a few Lonestars, and talk shit and rabble rouse to much saner folk who realized paying 3 bucks for a pint is a price worth paying considering what you have to go through freely for "free".
-the end-
Why I feel l'm really on vacation today...
Currently staying in my sister's house. Let me tell you, being away from home in a clean house is in and of itself, a vacation. All I had to do today was get up early to let the contractor's in to work on some construction bits around the house, and the rest of my day morning was dedicated to sloth.
First task of the day...wash laundry. You'd think that would be a chore for me, because it's a chore for everyone else. But, I really like doing laundry. It's a simple mindless task that unfortunately takes lodes of time to do properly. So, I rarely do. Unless I'm on a mini-vacay...which I am...which I'm currently doing. Something about being blanketed by warm fresh clothing makes me feel loved. It's the exact opposite of the feeling of self-loathing and despair I get when I run out of clean clothes and am reduced to wearing ill-fitting back of the closet sample sale mistakes or baptizing myself with gallons of Febreeze before leaving the house.
Other loveliness...I have the house to myself this morning. Not that I don't love my sister or her family, but being alone plopped in a very lady like manner (read: not very lady like at all) manner in front of a huge flatscreen tv, surrounded by warm laundry and no one to fight over the remote with (that person being a four yr old who wants to watch nothing but Go Diego Go which conflicts with my need to watch nothing but Law and Order SVU - Go Stabler, Go.
Fine dining options...I'm what you call a grazer. I eat like a five yr old. I like individual sized snacks and food items partitioned off in compartmentalized melamine trays. Food looks lovely cut up into cubes. This would be lovely everyday, but I have a tendency to forget to run out of time to get groceries, which like doing laundry, should be a simple chore. However, I like dedicating more time than necessary to doing it and if i can, i just won't. This means a lot of eating out with I like and dislike in parts. If I'm dining - sitting to a proper meal with a friend or two, it's great. But, more often, my dining partner is the drive through man or woman at the window and my proper meal has no name but "number + large diet coke." My sister, buys grocery in bulk and never really runs out of things. So, my ability to indulge like a five yr old is catered by her responsible ability to restock the cheese sticks and personal hummus and cracker combos.
In addition to this, she got an ice cream machine and has been indulging in the art of homemade gelatos. I've been taking advantage of this new found art of hers.
Entertainment has consisted no less than three networks playing hours long marathons of mindless programming. Bravo's got America's Next Top Model going back to back. The Sci-Fi Channel has been playing Scariest Places on Earth non stop all morning. Noggin is nothing but repeats of Degrassi The Next Generation. If I bore of any of this, my sister was mysterious gifted box set of True Blood's Season 1. It is safe to say, i will have no brain cells by the end of the day, and that's fine by me.
As I'm a multi-tasker, I will thumbing through a fine library of magazines my sister has yet to go through. My sister subscribes to enough magazines that she's not quite sure what she gets in the mail, but knows that she's never in short supply of materials to read on the can. It's all girl centric ranging from gossip rags to decorating and fashion magazines. And frankly, I'm in hog heaven with my nose in mindless reading material. Which, I will get to as soon as I'm finished typing.
The likelihood that I will get up for anything but bathroom breaks, if that, is slim to none.
-the end-
First task of the day...wash laundry. You'd think that would be a chore for me, because it's a chore for everyone else. But, I really like doing laundry. It's a simple mindless task that unfortunately takes lodes of time to do properly. So, I rarely do. Unless I'm on a mini-vacay...which I am...which I'm currently doing. Something about being blanketed by warm fresh clothing makes me feel loved. It's the exact opposite of the feeling of self-loathing and despair I get when I run out of clean clothes and am reduced to wearing ill-fitting back of the closet sample sale mistakes or baptizing myself with gallons of Febreeze before leaving the house.
Other loveliness...I have the house to myself this morning. Not that I don't love my sister or her family, but being alone plopped in a very lady like manner (read: not very lady like at all) manner in front of a huge flatscreen tv, surrounded by warm laundry and no one to fight over the remote with (that person being a four yr old who wants to watch nothing but Go Diego Go which conflicts with my need to watch nothing but Law and Order SVU - Go Stabler, Go.
Fine dining options...I'm what you call a grazer. I eat like a five yr old. I like individual sized snacks and food items partitioned off in compartmentalized melamine trays. Food looks lovely cut up into cubes. This would be lovely everyday, but I have a tendency to forget to run out of time to get groceries, which like doing laundry, should be a simple chore. However, I like dedicating more time than necessary to doing it and if i can, i just won't. This means a lot of eating out with I like and dislike in parts. If I'm dining - sitting to a proper meal with a friend or two, it's great. But, more often, my dining partner is the drive through man or woman at the window and my proper meal has no name but "number + large diet coke." My sister, buys grocery in bulk and never really runs out of things. So, my ability to indulge like a five yr old is catered by her responsible ability to restock the cheese sticks and personal hummus and cracker combos.
In addition to this, she got an ice cream machine and has been indulging in the art of homemade gelatos. I've been taking advantage of this new found art of hers.
Entertainment has consisted no less than three networks playing hours long marathons of mindless programming. Bravo's got America's Next Top Model going back to back. The Sci-Fi Channel has been playing Scariest Places on Earth non stop all morning. Noggin is nothing but repeats of Degrassi The Next Generation. If I bore of any of this, my sister was mysterious gifted box set of True Blood's Season 1. It is safe to say, i will have no brain cells by the end of the day, and that's fine by me.
As I'm a multi-tasker, I will thumbing through a fine library of magazines my sister has yet to go through. My sister subscribes to enough magazines that she's not quite sure what she gets in the mail, but knows that she's never in short supply of materials to read on the can. It's all girl centric ranging from gossip rags to decorating and fashion magazines. And frankly, I'm in hog heaven with my nose in mindless reading material. Which, I will get to as soon as I'm finished typing.
The likelihood that I will get up for anything but bathroom breaks, if that, is slim to none.
-the end-
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Last hurrah in Houston.
The idea is that I come down to Houston to have a last summer hurrah before the start of another school year on Monday. So far, that has entailed me running errands as soon as I arrived here and now rounding out my evening watching Thundercats with my four year old niece. Totally rocking it hardcore.
Eh.
Realistically, I could have used a bit of reprieve from all that is Austin, TX at the moment anyway.
Over the last few years, Austin has ranked high on travel lists as the best place to be a single person. I agree with this wholeheartedly. Austin is the best place to be a single person...if you have no wishes to change that status...if you've already proven to be completely dysfunctional at maintaining anything long term or anywhere near remotely healthy for a long period of time...if the thought of commitment thorough scares the shit out of you...if you are me.
Not that any of the above would be different if I lived in Houston or any other major or minor metropolis. I've just found that Austin has delightfully and professionally managed to encourage said tendencies.
However, as of late, I've found a certain need to change some of my habits. I never found those particularities naturally within me. I was just young and dumb and full of....oh well, we'll just censor that little axiom, shall we?...enough to allow myself to be accustomed to it as second skin. Seeing that want for change turning in the synapses, Austin all of a sudden felt a bit claustrophobic. Not everyone is necessarily on board with that. Some people actually prefer the former and not the slowly changing latter. And, I could use some time apart from "some people."
I'll be ready to come home soon enough. Eventually, if I want to make ends meet, I'll have to go back to work. And besides, Austin has more to offer than a singles scene. It has cupcakes. (And people that do love me for my heart.)
-the end-
Eh.
Realistically, I could have used a bit of reprieve from all that is Austin, TX at the moment anyway.
Over the last few years, Austin has ranked high on travel lists as the best place to be a single person. I agree with this wholeheartedly. Austin is the best place to be a single person...if you have no wishes to change that status...if you've already proven to be completely dysfunctional at maintaining anything long term or anywhere near remotely healthy for a long period of time...if the thought of commitment thorough scares the shit out of you...if you are me.
Not that any of the above would be different if I lived in Houston or any other major or minor metropolis. I've just found that Austin has delightfully and professionally managed to encourage said tendencies.
However, as of late, I've found a certain need to change some of my habits. I never found those particularities naturally within me. I was just young and dumb and full of....oh well, we'll just censor that little axiom, shall we?...enough to allow myself to be accustomed to it as second skin. Seeing that want for change turning in the synapses, Austin all of a sudden felt a bit claustrophobic. Not everyone is necessarily on board with that. Some people actually prefer the former and not the slowly changing latter. And, I could use some time apart from "some people."
I'll be ready to come home soon enough. Eventually, if I want to make ends meet, I'll have to go back to work. And besides, Austin has more to offer than a singles scene. It has cupcakes. (And people that do love me for my heart.)
-the end-
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Scary days in the neighborhood: Why being a single girl living alone sometimes scares the bejeezus out of me.
So, this past week, I had a frightful dream. It kept me up the rest of the night and I never caught up on sleep for the remainder of the next day. The dream was a real doozy, and without getting into too much detail, I had I lot of time to think about it as I spent my waking hours reinforcing the screens to all my windows, asking the guys at Home Depot about the most cost efficient way I could go about keeping life's psychopaths from paying me a visit against my will, and investing in a huge ass "take down a bear and it's pack" sized can of chili-pepper spray. (I've been informed I have to register for a license of some sort to carry the potent amount of attack spray I chose to procure).
Normally, I take the lazy man's belief system that "whatever will happen will happen." But, frankly it was a vivid dream reinforced by the increased amount of reports of sexual assaults around the city by attackers that have yet to be apprehended. Whatever will happen, will most undoubtedly happen. I've just decided that, in my scenario I'll have effectively caused enough physical harm to said attacker in such a way that he (or hell, even she...there are a lot of crazy people out there) will reconsider doing it again. Not that they will have the capability to do so.
Nonetheless, the anxiety does have me a bit on edge as of late. As I finally manage to enforce some amount of healthy sleep, I curl up these days with a completely useless by mildly intimidating appearing guard dog and the extra sharp titanium trek stick my ex left behind at my place.
Hopefully, the worst case scenario will ever be is that I managed to poke my own eye out in a fitful night of sleep.
-the end-
Normally, I take the lazy man's belief system that "whatever will happen will happen." But, frankly it was a vivid dream reinforced by the increased amount of reports of sexual assaults around the city by attackers that have yet to be apprehended. Whatever will happen, will most undoubtedly happen. I've just decided that, in my scenario I'll have effectively caused enough physical harm to said attacker in such a way that he (or hell, even she...there are a lot of crazy people out there) will reconsider doing it again. Not that they will have the capability to do so.
Nonetheless, the anxiety does have me a bit on edge as of late. As I finally manage to enforce some amount of healthy sleep, I curl up these days with a completely useless by mildly intimidating appearing guard dog and the extra sharp titanium trek stick my ex left behind at my place.
Hopefully, the worst case scenario will ever be is that I managed to poke my own eye out in a fitful night of sleep.
-the end-
The not so anonymous ramblings of your friendly neighborhood asian.
The not so anonymous ramblings of your friendly neighborhood asian.
I've been subjected to several movies as of late where the protagonist bemoans the fact that, despite having a graduate's degree in journalism from an elite accredited school, he or she has been given the menial task of writing a "slice of life" column. This scenario most assuredly turns the protagonist into a mortal enemy for me and I proceed to stop watching. My natural willingness to suspend my disbelief becomes an active exercise in civil disobedience to listen any further. Said character has been offered a full salary to sit down and write their general musings on life and guaranteed an audience will loyally follow along every insipid word.
It's my dream job and I get to hear Hollywood's version of a person who hardly appreciates how lucky they truly are.
I don't want to be on the frontlines of some civil war going on in some unpronounceable county that I've never heard of. I don't want to be undercover exposing some scandal going on in some industry. I truly just want to write about the things that matter to me the most....like that one time I was eating lunch and how I saved a potato chip from that very day because I was convinced it's likness to the Virgin Mary really got me through the lowest period of my life. Or perhaps, why none of the lack of success in securing a proper relationship has anything to do with my fears of commitment, but more likely due to a grand conspiracy founded by a skull and crossbone society I somehow managed to slight many moons ago because I made some casually harmful remarks about the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes.
The true gems of life...
I'm just saying. Anywho...I suppose I should spend more time practicing for the day when the gods finally decide to shed their light upon me. Posting more often would help.
-the end-
I've been subjected to several movies as of late where the protagonist bemoans the fact that, despite having a graduate's degree in journalism from an elite accredited school, he or she has been given the menial task of writing a "slice of life" column. This scenario most assuredly turns the protagonist into a mortal enemy for me and I proceed to stop watching. My natural willingness to suspend my disbelief becomes an active exercise in civil disobedience to listen any further. Said character has been offered a full salary to sit down and write their general musings on life and guaranteed an audience will loyally follow along every insipid word.
It's my dream job and I get to hear Hollywood's version of a person who hardly appreciates how lucky they truly are.
I don't want to be on the frontlines of some civil war going on in some unpronounceable county that I've never heard of. I don't want to be undercover exposing some scandal going on in some industry. I truly just want to write about the things that matter to me the most....like that one time I was eating lunch and how I saved a potato chip from that very day because I was convinced it's likness to the Virgin Mary really got me through the lowest period of my life. Or perhaps, why none of the lack of success in securing a proper relationship has anything to do with my fears of commitment, but more likely due to a grand conspiracy founded by a skull and crossbone society I somehow managed to slight many moons ago because I made some casually harmful remarks about the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes.
The true gems of life...
I'm just saying. Anywho...I suppose I should spend more time practicing for the day when the gods finally decide to shed their light upon me. Posting more often would help.
-the end-
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