Yesterday I bowled a strike for the first time!
Today I tried raw milk for the first time.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Friday, October 5, 2012
In lieu of a long post
I would rather be far away from home and miss my father than to be there and hate him.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
K-pop and good things
(This is more for myself.)
So, roughly two years ago, Korean things (history, food, language, dramas, music, and the like) didn't mean much to me. It didn't register on my map. But meeting Korean friends in Hong Kong, eating delicious Korean food (much of which I had not tried before), and visiting Korea itself brought it much more intimately into my life. It was a nice, kind of refreshing alternative to the Japanese things that I had loved so much since middle school.
Not k-pop, though. I had a decent amount of friends who were fans, and I knew the names of some groups. I even had a couple songs on my computer, but I wasn't interested in finding out more. When Janice showed me the street in Seoul lined with idol products--the street to go for fans--I chuckled and admired the vendors' Japanese abilities.
Then, a year later I found out that one of my friends was in a k-pop cover band. I listened to their songs (so-so), listened to the originals (not too bad, SNSD!). It was nice.
Then, about two or three weeks ago, this huge slide happened. I was watching PSY's Gangnam Style like most people, and saw Big Bang's Blue on the sidebar. That was another song my friend's band had covered, so I gave it a listen. It was okay. On the sidebar of that video was Taeyang's Wedding Dress. I had remembered another time when one of my guzheng mates said that her brother resembled Taeyang, so I clicked it to get a good look at this guy. I skipped to the middle, his dancing caught me, and I watched the whole thing.
Then I found out he was in Big Bang so I went through their stuff to look for his dancing. And then, well... I got caught. Both my feet are now in the k-pop world, and what a world it is. It's very fun. The music wouldn't exactly be my normal style, and I don't like a lot of it, but Korean idol culture is really fun. It's almost a guilty pleasure, and I almost hate to admit it--the thing is, k-pop has brought me a lot of joy while I was stagnating at home.
Yesterday at a family celebration for Autumn Moon Festival I finally got into an extended conversation with one of my little cousins (I've tried quite a few times with no results), and it was all because I noticed she was playing Wedding Dress on the piano. That was great. She's pretty cool!
Thanks k-pop!
So, roughly two years ago, Korean things (history, food, language, dramas, music, and the like) didn't mean much to me. It didn't register on my map. But meeting Korean friends in Hong Kong, eating delicious Korean food (much of which I had not tried before), and visiting Korea itself brought it much more intimately into my life. It was a nice, kind of refreshing alternative to the Japanese things that I had loved so much since middle school.
Not k-pop, though. I had a decent amount of friends who were fans, and I knew the names of some groups. I even had a couple songs on my computer, but I wasn't interested in finding out more. When Janice showed me the street in Seoul lined with idol products--the street to go for fans--I chuckled and admired the vendors' Japanese abilities.
Then, a year later I found out that one of my friends was in a k-pop cover band. I listened to their songs (so-so), listened to the originals (not too bad, SNSD!). It was nice.
Then, about two or three weeks ago, this huge slide happened. I was watching PSY's Gangnam Style like most people, and saw Big Bang's Blue on the sidebar. That was another song my friend's band had covered, so I gave it a listen. It was okay. On the sidebar of that video was Taeyang's Wedding Dress. I had remembered another time when one of my guzheng mates said that her brother resembled Taeyang, so I clicked it to get a good look at this guy. I skipped to the middle, his dancing caught me, and I watched the whole thing.
Then I found out he was in Big Bang so I went through their stuff to look for his dancing. And then, well... I got caught. Both my feet are now in the k-pop world, and what a world it is. It's very fun. The music wouldn't exactly be my normal style, and I don't like a lot of it, but Korean idol culture is really fun. It's almost a guilty pleasure, and I almost hate to admit it--the thing is, k-pop has brought me a lot of joy while I was stagnating at home.
Yesterday at a family celebration for Autumn Moon Festival I finally got into an extended conversation with one of my little cousins (I've tried quite a few times with no results), and it was all because I noticed she was playing Wedding Dress on the piano. That was great. She's pretty cool!
Thanks k-pop!
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Summer blooms
Something wonderful just happened.
I was feeling sort of down, what with my brother about to leave and all. We were talking my room when we heard these booming sounds like gunshots outside. I live in quite the small, peaceful suburban neighborhood, so I didn't really think they would be gunshots, but we were pretty confused. We actually ignored it for a while, but I eventually looked out the window to check it out.
There were these huge fireworks in the sky, just beyond our roofs.
In such a small town!
It was amazing!
I was feeling sort of down, what with my brother about to leave and all. We were talking my room when we heard these booming sounds like gunshots outside. I live in quite the small, peaceful suburban neighborhood, so I didn't really think they would be gunshots, but we were pretty confused. We actually ignored it for a while, but I eventually looked out the window to check it out.
There were these huge fireworks in the sky, just beyond our roofs.
In such a small town!
It was amazing!
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
Saturday party quickwrite
clear eyes, a sort of haze in the room from the heat, carried away outside through the open window, no screen attached. it opens into the air, the darkness and the orange street lamps. trees and insect sounds. outside there is a full moon, bright and shining, round and white. the air is cool and it comes into the room. inside is us. the dirty carpets and smudges, the bottles and cups, mismatched, covering so many inches of the table, of the counter, of some parts of the floor. it is dark and the music hums, there is not a lot of bass. the song changes and no one notices. there is a sort of haze, a warmth, now flowing outside through the open window on the right. outside there is a soccer field. the grass is green. inside some of us stand, some cheeks ruddy, some as they have always been. some drooping eyes, draping arms. I feel like it is time to go. I go around, touching each one, touching. a light touch, an embrace, warm. we all smile, it is dark. the light is coming from the laptop screen and the moon, the orange lamps outside that shine onto the green grass. I touch, it is warm and solid, and it feels good. I want to get closer, but the touch is fleeting, fleeting and light. it feels good. I like the feeling, of warmth and skin and muscle. I like reaching up, reaching, arms touch the neck for a little bit, cheeks near. the touch is fleeting, and the parting even more so. soon I am outside where it is quiet and hollow and cool. some insect sounds. the moon.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
I wrote this while in class
It's been a long time since she has been home, and this is what she was thinking as she walked down the streets. Often, now, she saw his face in the store windows, reflected a million times back at her own at various angles, like a kaleidoscope. Or funhouse mirrors. It was no different here, although he had never set foot in this town. He'd always said he would come with her, that he'd walk the streets of her childhood and that they'd create new, adjacent memories, but, well, that wasn't going to happen now. Now all that was going to create memories with her was his ghost, his frozen face and his beautiful eyes peering at her soul from every store front. (Here's us: me and some mannequin, matching summer hats.) Maybe she'd go snorkeling off the coast. Maybe he'd be there too.
It's been a long time since she has been home, and it hasn't changed a bit. Not on the outside, at least. There was the same liquor store with the burnt out neon sign, the old white van parked in front of the laundromat. The mailbox that was a miniature version of its house. The avocado home with the brown trimming that marked the corner of her street.
She paused in front of the front door, glancing from the lock to her purse, which she realized contained no corresponding key. She rang the bell.
"Oh, baby," cried her mother, swinging the door open as if she had been waiting on the other side all along. "Oh, Cece," she said as she wrapped her arms around her daughter and pulled her close.
It's been a long time since she has been home, and it hasn't changed a bit. Not on the outside, at least. There was the same liquor store with the burnt out neon sign, the old white van parked in front of the laundromat. The mailbox that was a miniature version of its house. The avocado home with the brown trimming that marked the corner of her street.
She paused in front of the front door, glancing from the lock to her purse, which she realized contained no corresponding key. She rang the bell.
"Oh, baby," cried her mother, swinging the door open as if she had been waiting on the other side all along. "Oh, Cece," she said as she wrapped her arms around her daughter and pulled her close.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Perspective
Today I read this article. In the comment section there was a person saying:
A little over a year ago (I cannot believe it has been that long!), I traveled Japan by myself. I booked my accommodations entirely too late, so I had to stay for three days over the New Year holiday in a tiny single room, in the cheapest hotel I could find, instead of the hostels I preferred. After those three days, I checked out to go to a hostel, as I had planned. The hotel owner was a middle aged Chinese man, and when I left he asked me what my next destination was. You know, friendly talk.
I was a little embarrassed to say that I was still staying in the same city--just changing lodgings (your hotel was only a desperate choice), but what else could I do? He asked me if I could continuing staying in his hotel; I said no, my other place has been already booked, you see. He said that he had a daughter around my age. She was studying in the US. He asked me if I knew how to get to my new hotel. Yes, I said, I had drawn a map. We talked about some other things.
Then he said that he was heading out also, and that he could walk me to the metro station. Here, I started getting uncomfortable. But hey, I thought, here I am, meeting locals! So what if he's an old man? That might even be better! It could be an interesting travel experience!
We walked to the station together. When we got there, he seemed worried that I wouldn't know how to purchase a ticket (as if I could have survived like that), and insisted on buying one for me. This involved him knowing my stop. I let him buy it. At this point, I mostly just wanted to get away and get to my hostel as soon as possible, to return to my familiar world of youthful backpackers and hip, lax receptionists. We got off at the same stop. He had a friend here he wanted to visit, he said. He said it more than once.
As we exited the station, he asked me again if I was sure of where my hotel was. What was its name? Perhaps he can help me find it. I absolutely did not want him to know where I was staying. I knew the name of my street and I knew the exit I needed to take, but I didn't tell him this. I didn't want him to walk me there. So we took a look at the station map. We see the street my hostel in on, but right there on the map was a little symbol of the hostel. Oak Hotel! My heart dropped. I was so angry at that map!
"Is that it?" He asks.
"I think so," I say, my voice small.
And we leave the station together.
About a block later, I needed to cross the street, and apparently he did not. He asked me again if I was sure I knew where I was going. I nod vehemently. Yes, yes, I'm sure. Thank you for your help. The cross signal chirps and I just start walking across, cutting off our conversation. Bye, I say. I know where I'm going, I say, rushing away. I wave a little, and leave, leave, leave.
Later on I sneak a peak back, there he is, on the other side, walking.
I head down the alley to my hostel.
When I got back to Hong Kong, I told this story a couple times. I felt a little bad, leaving so suddenly without much pleasantries, because, after all, perhaps he was truly concerned for a young female traveler like me. He paid for my metro ticket. Was I just paranoid? Did I just blow it up out of proportion in my head? Every single one of my female friends said no, he was definitely overstepping boundaries and being creepy.
My male friends thought it was not a big deal, that it was innocent, and that he was just being friendly and helpful, like Japanese people tend to be towards foreigners. One of them said, "But I'm a guy. Maybe for a girl, it would be creepy."
I thought, if he really was just being friendly, how could he not understand how uncomfortable his actions made me? He should've backed off and trusted me to take care of myself. One part of taking care of myself would be staying away from strange men, right?
I'm still not sure what to take from this. Just some food for thought.
I simply never thought of how paranoid the average female has to be to simply avoid being attacked and how that paranoia effects how they perceive what I might have interpreted as an innocent gesture.It made me think about a small incident that happened to me, and the reactions I got when telling the story.
A little over a year ago (I cannot believe it has been that long!), I traveled Japan by myself. I booked my accommodations entirely too late, so I had to stay for three days over the New Year holiday in a tiny single room, in the cheapest hotel I could find, instead of the hostels I preferred. After those three days, I checked out to go to a hostel, as I had planned. The hotel owner was a middle aged Chinese man, and when I left he asked me what my next destination was. You know, friendly talk.
I was a little embarrassed to say that I was still staying in the same city--just changing lodgings (your hotel was only a desperate choice), but what else could I do? He asked me if I could continuing staying in his hotel; I said no, my other place has been already booked, you see. He said that he had a daughter around my age. She was studying in the US. He asked me if I knew how to get to my new hotel. Yes, I said, I had drawn a map. We talked about some other things.
Then he said that he was heading out also, and that he could walk me to the metro station. Here, I started getting uncomfortable. But hey, I thought, here I am, meeting locals! So what if he's an old man? That might even be better! It could be an interesting travel experience!
We walked to the station together. When we got there, he seemed worried that I wouldn't know how to purchase a ticket (as if I could have survived like that), and insisted on buying one for me. This involved him knowing my stop. I let him buy it. At this point, I mostly just wanted to get away and get to my hostel as soon as possible, to return to my familiar world of youthful backpackers and hip, lax receptionists. We got off at the same stop. He had a friend here he wanted to visit, he said. He said it more than once.
As we exited the station, he asked me again if I was sure of where my hotel was. What was its name? Perhaps he can help me find it. I absolutely did not want him to know where I was staying. I knew the name of my street and I knew the exit I needed to take, but I didn't tell him this. I didn't want him to walk me there. So we took a look at the station map. We see the street my hostel in on, but right there on the map was a little symbol of the hostel. Oak Hotel! My heart dropped. I was so angry at that map!
"Is that it?" He asks.
"I think so," I say, my voice small.
And we leave the station together.
About a block later, I needed to cross the street, and apparently he did not. He asked me again if I was sure I knew where I was going. I nod vehemently. Yes, yes, I'm sure. Thank you for your help. The cross signal chirps and I just start walking across, cutting off our conversation. Bye, I say. I know where I'm going, I say, rushing away. I wave a little, and leave, leave, leave.
Later on I sneak a peak back, there he is, on the other side, walking.
I head down the alley to my hostel.
When I got back to Hong Kong, I told this story a couple times. I felt a little bad, leaving so suddenly without much pleasantries, because, after all, perhaps he was truly concerned for a young female traveler like me. He paid for my metro ticket. Was I just paranoid? Did I just blow it up out of proportion in my head? Every single one of my female friends said no, he was definitely overstepping boundaries and being creepy.
My male friends thought it was not a big deal, that it was innocent, and that he was just being friendly and helpful, like Japanese people tend to be towards foreigners. One of them said, "But I'm a guy. Maybe for a girl, it would be creepy."
I thought, if he really was just being friendly, how could he not understand how uncomfortable his actions made me? He should've backed off and trusted me to take care of myself. One part of taking care of myself would be staying away from strange men, right?
I'm still not sure what to take from this. Just some food for thought.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Life is moving ahead
Well, I've just officially applied for graduation. Somehow it makes it so much more concrete.
I don't want to grow up.
I don't want to grow up.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Revision
It's really difficult for me to look into my archives and not want to change things, such as deleting expletives (it never makes me sound cooler and I don't think it ever makes anyone sound smarter), uncapitalizing sentences, hiding whole posts entirely. It's hard for me to hold back.
George Lucas keeps changing his films and everyone keeps complaining. Michel de Montaigne added new things to his essays all the time, changing his mind and such, but he also wrote that he never takes anything back, that everything he wrote, even if they contradict themselves, is true. I've read through quite a few webcomics where the art is atrocious in the beginning, but improves dramatically as the story goes on, and the present day page is a beautiful work of art.
So. I will ban myself from changing anything aside from spelling and grammar mistakes in my old posts. If anyone ever reads this, please go easy on me.
George Lucas keeps changing his films and everyone keeps complaining. Michel de Montaigne added new things to his essays all the time, changing his mind and such, but he also wrote that he never takes anything back, that everything he wrote, even if they contradict themselves, is true. I've read through quite a few webcomics where the art is atrocious in the beginning, but improves dramatically as the story goes on, and the present day page is a beautiful work of art.
So. I will ban myself from changing anything aside from spelling and grammar mistakes in my old posts. If anyone ever reads this, please go easy on me.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Drifting rice
A username I used to use, and no longer use, is RiceDrifter. It's based on a combination of the various meanings of my various real life names, which is why I was surprised when, some years ago, someone came up to me in a MMO to tell me "nice username" (or something to that effect). I was confused because it I didn't think it sounded particularly cool on its own. Was my name creating skills really so great?
It was only until very recently that I realized that he probably, probably thought that my name was referring to cars, ricers, and me, drifting them.
It was only until very recently that I realized that he probably, probably thought that my name was referring to cars, ricers, and me, drifting them.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Harry S Truman
We have something in common, that president and I.
Our middle names are just one letter.
And while he was content with using "Harry S. Truman" in his life--signing it as such, making official letterheads with it as such--I am not. I am a little sick of people helpfully adding a period after my middle name, as if I had forgotten to fill the rest of it in on my forms. No, you guys, that is my full middle name. I'm graduating this year, and I want it proper on my diploma.
Our middle names are just one letter.
And while he was content with using "Harry S. Truman" in his life--signing it as such, making official letterheads with it as such--I am not. I am a little sick of people helpfully adding a period after my middle name, as if I had forgotten to fill the rest of it in on my forms. No, you guys, that is my full middle name. I'm graduating this year, and I want it proper on my diploma.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Home
Fuck, I don't remember ever being this homesick. I want to be home so badly. I want my mom, my dad, my brother. My bed, my couch. Classes seem to be a world away. I feel like crying, but not enough to actually cry. Maybe it's because I feel so sick? I think there's something really wrong with me. I'm worried this will happen again. I'm worried they won't find anything. I hope going to the school doctor will help. I really, really hope so. I want to be healthy and happy again.
I want to be home.
I just want to be home.
I want to be home.
I just want to be home.
About me
Here is the "About Me" I was thinking about putting on Facebook before I chickened out:
Hi! I have the coolest friends. They make me cool by proxy! I love traveling and languages, but I also love home. Procrastination is the bane of my existence; I'm not proud of it at all. I never want to be shy. I like anime and manga a lot but I'm not confident enough to admit it to most people. I think I'm kind of smart. I need to be healthier.
Hi! I have the coolest friends. They make me cool by proxy! I love traveling and languages, but I also love home. Procrastination is the bane of my existence; I'm not proud of it at all. I never want to be shy. I like anime and manga a lot but I'm not confident enough to admit it to most people. I think I'm kind of smart. I need to be healthier.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Lack of skills
I wish I were a normal person for whom driving is an unnoticed part of everyday life, like setting alarms or buying groceries.
This sucks.
This sucks.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)