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She would have turned 29 today.

I missed her birthday last year.

Happy birthday. I miss you.

Two completely unrelated topics

Once, when I was in college, I decided to do an exercise and honestly write down everything I didn't like about myself. I'd been having a lot of negative thoughts and I just wanted to lay it all out there. It actually made me feel better because what I thought might have been a never-ending list turned out to not even fill the entire page of my notebook.

It might be a little longer this time, but I should probably try this again.

--

Yesterday, I tried to make the Cantonese dessert 双皮奶 for the first time. I only had powdered milk (at least it was full fat), so it wasn't great. It didn't form a lot of skin. It turned out okay, though. The inside was nice and smooth.

Love poetry

My three favorite love poems:

"A Valediction Forbidding Mourning" by John Donne
"my sweet old etcetera" by E. E. Cummings
"Variations on the Word Sleep" by Margaret Atwood

Postcards and fountains

My preferred souvenir to buy when traveling, since 2009, has been, and still is, postcards. It used to be tall shot glasses but postcards are significantly cheaper, more varied, and easier to find.

Here are some guidelines I have for myself when buying a postcard (and really, one per destination is enough for keepsies).

1. The postcard needs to display something I've actually seen. So no natural feature I didn't actually hike to, no art piece I didn't actually look at in the museum. Many art museums, in fact, sell art postcards of art that sit in entirely different museums.

2. Standard size is best. Standard material is best as well (no wooden postcards).

3. Artsy postcards are better. Creative photography or maybe a drawing. Realistic landscape photos are fine, but I can take photos myself.

4. No words on the front. Too kitschy. No name of the location, no "wish you were here".

5. Preferably, words on the back. A nice description is excellent.

These are not rules set in stone, of course; they're more like my preferences.

Now let me tell you about the first postcard in my current collection.

I was studying abroad in France and took a weekend trip to Barcelona. I decided to go to Barcelona for one major reason: the Calder mercury fountain located in Fundació Joan Miró, an art museum dedicated to Miró's works. I had seen a picture of the mercury fountain--this is an actual fountain with mercury running through it instead of water--a couple years prior in high school and it had left a deep impression on me. It was so cool! Before my trip I even checked their website, just in case, to make sure the fountain was really there.

So anyway, I started by enjoying various Barcelona sights, all whilst anticipating the one event I came here for. I enjoyed the Miró works slowly, too, appreciating them on the surface while my excitement bubbled underneath. And then.... I reached it. Near the end. The glass wall. And the fountain.... was out of order! Under repair! I looked at the dry fountain and actually cried tears. Not too many, though, because I was with my friend and it was kind of embarrassing.

Afterwards, we went to the gift shop and the only purchasable evidence that existed of the fountain was one little postcard. I bought it. This is what it would've looked like if it were running. This is what the picture I would've taken might have looked like.

I still haven't been back yet. I don't know the fountain is still there.

SW128

Yesterday was the day I hit 105.8 pounds, meeting my goal weight of 106.

It was after an airplane ride and a bit of dehydration, so today it's back up to 107, but,
it's still nice.

Thinking about lowering the goal, but I'm not sure if I can handle it.

It's been slow goings for me, having been at this since early November of last year.

I just wanted to put this down.

Darn

I had just gotten my credit card number memorized and it's now stolen.

School work

I never, ever wanted  to throw away my school work at the end of the school year. When I did need to clear the stuff, I always poured over each sheet of paper first, and always ended up saving a decent stack. I just chucked most of my work from middle school, which means my statute of limitations for sentimentality for school work ends maybe after twelve years.

Time

My cousin posted a video on Facebook of one of our family Christmas parties from something like fourteen years ago.

My first and most prominent thought was, Dad looks so young.

I didn't post that comment.








What he looks like now, did I do that to him?

Sad reality

I wish I knew all the languages.

Or at least

Spanish
French
Japanese
Korean
Mandarin
Cantonese
Dutch
German

in addition to English.

Then I wouldn't lose contact with my friends because it's too much effort for either of us to write in another language.

I've only done it once

Buying an umbrella while it is raining is one of the surest signs of failure.

Pas du logement

Waking up, thinking you are home and about to have breakfast with Mom and Dad, but the room is empty (except for you), the bed is old, the floors are wooden, and there is only one dim light that works (to your right). It's barely past 2pm. There are men speaking just outside your door and you can't understand them.

Waking up, and your bed is more narrow than a twin; you turn and you touch the floor. The blankets are stiff and you only have one pillow and it's kind of flat.

The sandwich is mostly bread and butter.

Your socks and shoes like sponges, your feet churning them with every step. You feel your skin begin to prune.

You don't have a bank account here, an address here, a phone plan with internet, no friend's home where you can stay. Il faut une adresse. Il faut avoir un gérant.

They are setting up the fair.

Dog poop everywhere.

Rose

Today Rose, Oldie McOldOld's companion and the last of our original goldfish, died.

A waiting game

I'm very nervous.

I've been thinking about it and--
The worst part of failing is telling the people who believed in you that you failed.

I hope this won't have to happen.

Re:

I sort of like it when I check my spam folder and I see spam in foreign languages I speak. It's like I've broken in and became one of them.

Sometimes it feels nice when a tram company whose tram I rode regularly over two years ago and haven't been near since sends me an email about updates to its system. I can pretend for a little bit that I'm still there. Just for a little, and then I unsubscribe.

When a game forum I haven't visited in years wishes me happy birthday.

When an old friend's email account sends me a blank subject email, obviously a virus.
(Just seeing their name in my inbox is a pleasant surprise, if only for the briefest moment.)

Over ten years

Today, my old, old goldfish died.

This one.

Looking American

I went to visit the Leshan Giant Buddha (乐山大佛) with a friend in January 2011. When we were at the top by the head, we asked a couple nearby to take our picture. They did, and asked us where we were from. My friend explained that she was a local from the same province, while I was from America. They were very surprised and said that I didn't look American. Haha! Well, my friend explained, she's 华侨--an ethnically Chinese person who lives outside of China.

"Can you speak English?"
"Yes.... hello!"
"H-hello...."

And they shook my hand and asked to take a picture with me. I hope their friends and family don't disbelieve them because I am not white.

I wish I had gotten a picture with them too.

Just throwing this out there

I've noticed for a while now that my posts seem to be disproportionately unhappy ones. Maybe I feel like writing the most when I'm unhappy--I know this was definitely the case when I was younger, and a more proficient and prolific writer. (It's very sad.)

In any case, I'd like to announce that I am usually a happy person, that I enjoy life, and that little good things happen all the time. I'm know I'm a pretty lucky one, and I'm grateful for what I've got.

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.

New goal

Since this post, I have eaten a real guava. It was okay; aromatic and not particularly rich in taste. Maybe mine wasn't ripe.

Anyway, new goal: Experience a midnight sun.

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.