He and I

When words run dry,
he does not try,
nor do I.

We are on par.

He just is,
I just am
and we just are.

-Lang Leav

What's worse? Realizing how you're slowly losing all of your past friends one at a time... Or realizing how little fuck you give if you do..

I hate surprises.

What a Hoot

Theres an owl hooting next to my window. Ive never had an owl hoot next to my window before. Although it's probably the sole distraction from falling to a peaceful sleep, I kind of like this new company.

Hello new friend.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

A lone coyote howl in the walnut hills set off a cacaphony of surburban dogs barking at empty noise. This eventually led to setting off wailing car alarms and police sirens to annoy the early morning night throughout my street. Ugh. I think a coyote just died.

I had such a stupendous nap dreaming of nostalgic times with my grandpa. Now Im woken up, wide awake sleeping until never simply because my considerate fob only calls back whenever he 'feels like talking.' What a douchetit.

The Forehead Wrinkles Guide to Making the Perfect Macaron

I won't say I've perfected the process, but I would like to believe I've at least gotten very close to making decent macarons. Alas, based solely on numerous webpage bookmarks, trialerror runs, and tears, I've come up with my own method. So here's my take on it..

There are two basic ways to make macs- the French or the Italian method. The French method is easier to do as you gradually pour the sugar in as the egg whites are whipping, but is also more prone to failure since the macaronage (folding the dry ingredients into the meringue) can be easily one fold too much and the mixture will flatten and your macs won’t rise. The Italian way involves melting the sugar with 50g water to a certain point in a pot first (involves a candy thermometer) and then gradually pouring it into the mixed egg whites. Because the sugar is cooked first, the Italian way is less prone to failed macarons, but will have more clean up, if you want to deal with that. This method leans a bit more to the French way.

What you’ll need:
-A gram scale (measure out all your ingredients beforehand to save time)
-Mixer with detachable whisks (hand or standing mixtures, as long as the speeds indicated)
-Food processor, or a really amazing blender that turns everything into fine powder
-Zip lock bags (for piping out the shells/ filling)
-Big mixing bowls
-Baking pan/ baking sheets
-Spatula
-Sifter
-Lots and lots and infinity amounts of patience
-A dood to help you wash the dishes because washing dishes sucks

for the macarons shells:
110g almond flour (crushed up almonds)
200g powdered sugar
90g aged egg whites (about 3 eggs)
30g fine granulated sugar
(for other flavors like chocolate- add 3 tbs of coco powder/ pistachio – add crushed up pistachios/ earl grey – 2 tea bags of earl grey/ lemon- minced lemon zest, etc)

Step 1- Split eggs for egg whites, set aside- then prepare your dry ingredients
1. Thoroughly mix together your almond flour and powdered sugar + any extra ingredients for flavor in a food processor. Sift several times until there are no more big lumps in it. The finer the mixture, the smoother your macs will be. Set aside.

Step 2- Making your meringue
Most recipes ask for you to “age your egg whites,” as in prepare your egg whites at least 24 hrs beforehand. This is to decrease the moisture in the whites so that your meringue will fluff up easily and will help the macs rise. You basically want as little water or moisture to be in this whole process; that includes folding it at the right amount, the more folds, the more air that is being folded out and thus the mixture becomes more watery. The wetter your mac mixture becomes, the harder it is to pipe out since it will spill everywhere and won’t keep a firm shape. So you get a lot of mitosis & meiosis looking macarons on your baking sheet and that’s a pretty depressing sight. But age no more! This different meringue method only requires you to have your eggs sit for an hour or two before, as long as it’s brought to room temp.

1. Dump sugar and egg whites in mixing bowl
2. Beat whites and sugar for 3 min at speed 4
3. Beat for 3 more min a speed 6
4. Beat for 3 more min at speed 8 (you can add color or flavoring at this point)
5. Beat for 1 min at speed 10

Your end result should be a very light and fluffy meringue. It will look like an ugly and lumpy white cloud (unless you added coloring), not like the normal stiff peak you get from usual recipes, a bec d’oiseau – bird’s beak. Basically you want to be able to beat it to the point where it holds together in a light mass and you could hold the whisk upside down and the foam won’t droop.

Step 3 – Dump all your dry ingredients into the meringue mixture bowl all at once
This is the part that most people dread. It’s the part where one extra fold of the ingredients will either make or break your macs. Just be really careful and have patience. It takes experience over time to know when to truly stop folding.

You want to fold your dry ingredients into your lumpy cloud by using the spatula to slide under, and then fold over. This will be one fold. Be sure not to press the dry ingredients into the cloud. It will slowly fold within itself eventually. This process should take around 50 folds, so count your folds. Stop yourself from folding anymore once you’ve hit that number. You should result in a “glossy, ribbon falling, lava like texture” where you could test it by spooning out the mixture and see that by 20 sec, it smoothes itself out and keeps its shape. NO MEIOSIS MUTATED MICKEY MOUSE LOOKING MACS! It’s always better to undermix than to overmix a batch.

Step 5 - Piping your macarons

Now that you’ve gotten the worst part over with, use the spatula to scoop the batch into a zip lock bag and cut off a tip (not too big). Pipe out the macs evenly to however big or small you’d like, at least 1.5-2 in apart. If undermixed, dip a finger with water and use it to lightly flatten down any peaks that haven’t flattened after being piped out.

Step 5 – Preheat your oven to 400 F and “tap” your macaron pan.
Lift the pan and drop the whole thing on a flat surface a few times. This will take out any air bubbles and also help flatten the macs.

Step 6 – The Baking Process
1. Place pan into preheated oven and immediately turn off. Prop two oven gloves at the corner of the door to let a little air escape. Bake for 6 min.
2. Turn on oven to 350F and bake for 3-4min (until you see the “feet” of the macaron)
3. Turn temp down to 250F and bake for 12 min
4. Turn off oven and leave tray in for a remaining 6-10 min depending on how big you made your macs (smaller macs would only bake for 6 min when bigger ones need longer time.
Yes this process is tedious, but apparently it has a pretty successful guarantee to perfect feet baked macarons. Wait until they’re fully cooled, arrange with same sized partners and sandwich a filling that you piped on. Fillings can be a variety of things from buttercreams, ganaches, or jams. Just as long as your filling is not too watery and can hold its shape so that when the mac is put to its side, it won’t slide apart or melt. I’ve found that ganaches make a suitable filling, but I’m still searching for the perfect one.

A perfect macaron should have even feet at the bottom, a smooth flat top, and a hard crunch surface, yet a melt in your mouth delicious center. You should be able to peel off the macarons cleanly from the baking sheet like you’re removing stickers. If the macs are still sticking to the sheet, that means they are underbaked. You can try to peel them off very carefully, turn them upside down and bake again for another few min in order to dry it out. This should do the trick.

After piping them together, you are practically done! Most macarons do not taste their best right away, in fact they taste better after they’ve “aged” about a day or two piped together. It helps mix the aromas of the filling with the cookie for a more intense flavor. That is why having the right filling is also important because in this aging process, you don’t want the filling to be so moist that it will soak right through your cookie and it will be all soggy and not good at all. That’s why I’ve found ganaches to be the best.

Well that's all folks. Now go get your man to do those dirty dishes and prop your feet down to relax after probably 4 hrs of non stop standing & hard work to make these fickle delicious turds. Don’t worry, time to make them will be faster as you gain experience. But practice practice practice and don’t be discouraged if the first batch turns into a sticky disgusting mess (this is coming from someone who simply just wasted everything and rolled her failed batches together to a little macaron snow man). Don't do that. Find a hungry citizen and give him your failed cookies instead or something. Good luck!

May the macaron gods be with you all.

Rereading things I wrote in the past and sounding so obnoxiously unpleasant.

you are coming home
are you still alone
are you not the same as you used to be?

I met a young man the other day. He claims to possess gold - Neil Young tickets for October at Stubs, an intimate Austin venue. I silently sent jealous death rays of the most abhorrent evil to his soul. Gah, if only I could stay in Texas forever.

I forgot to turn on the AC at night so I woke up in a midnight sweat and decided to blog

I've been reading Hemingway's, The Sun Also Rises.It's a funny thing, how relatable 90 yr old literature could be. I might've as well been Robert Cohn, the discontent citizen wanting to flee far from his discontent life in Paris. Ironic really. I am Robert, California is my Paris, Texas is my South America, and Hemingway is my cousin telling me the most important reminder I needed to get clicked in my head:

"Going to another country doesn't make any difference. You can't get away from yourself by moving from one place to another. There's nothing to that."

I guess I've always seen Texas as a way to get away. I've needed it and I am quite enjoying myself in this time here, but I could never get rid of the feelings of anguish I'd once had before. The heavy insecurities, the self denial of an unsatisfying life.

And all the while, despite all the time that has passed and all the middle school anger emotions I've gone through, I randomly really miss you right now. coolbeanscharliesheen dork. And its not the "miss you" that you'd have to be alarmed of, I promise. Just the missing a once wonderfully dear old friend I wish I still kept. I really don't know what it is that started this thought. Maybe it's the fact that its 5AM here and that was a time we used to talk on and on until the sun came, but if I could just call you or if you were at least coincidentally online at the same time and we could exchange our hellos about our days... that would be really nice.

Lone Star Days

Bullcreek- Austin, TX 5:43 AM (S)

Today commences the 8th day I've been residing in the Lone Star State of Austin, TX. Texas is everything and nothing I've expected. Well for one, there are no actual cowboys and saloons here like in the movies (and yes I was expecting that oddly enough). At most, you'd see a street side show dressed up as a cowboy or the commercials would be jam packed with texan stereotypes. And every so often, you'd run into a true redneck Texan, accent and all. But most here are simply friendly diverse people, smiling to you as you pass them at the door or driving on the street. In my 8 days here I've gotten more experience of what I've dreamed to know in my life. All these questions waiting to be answered at my finger tips.

Thus far, I've learned to be a hostess, pack to go orders, how to bartend with the knowledge of basic mixed drinks, beers, wines, hard liquors, so on & most of all I've gotten to meet new people. There are many small things I've learned as well, such as how to spot a rain cloud, which radio tower has cellphone antennas, or never NEVER touch your hair/face/eat in front of your customers. Simple tips. But common knowledge I would've never known had I never happened upon this trip. It's quite enriching.

Well about the day. I really don't know where to start.. I attempted to make the infamous pistachio macarons today! You would think a restaurant kitchen would have all the supplies you would need to make such a thing but I had literally nothing. Not even a decent sifter. Everything was dirty or dusty mostly for the fact that they rarely use such supplies seeing as it was a cooking kitchen, not a pastry one. We spent $31 on supplies. I stationed myself in a small room next to the kitchen where if I looked to my left, I could see everyone in there working and doing their own business. I began with blending the pistachios. They didn't have a food processor, so I improvised with a highly powerful drink blender. The second I flipped the on switch, it made the highest most, unbearable screeching noise that everyone in the kitchen stopped what they were doing and stared at me. I quickly turned it off, feebly smiled back at them slowly in embarrassment. Ehugghhh. I've gone through 3 different sifters, 1 oversized meat grinding mixer, 3 batches of eggs, 2 ovens, a toaster oven and several seared pieces of baking sheets to result in a burned 1st batch & an under cooked 2nd. This led me to develop horrible feelings for wasting uncle's money and a negative point on my internal baking meter. For those of you that do not know, I have an internal baking meter that turns on whenever I bake. It's a mental thing. When my baked goods come out successfully, the meter is on high and I am happy and eager to bake all day. But when the meter becomes really low, my will to bake goes negative, my whole day is thrown off, I lose the ability to harness common sense & I become extremely depressed& lose all hope to live. Just kidding. But I did feel like I've failed everyone, especially my uncle of whom spent the money and was so excited to taste one of my infamous cookies I've somewhat bragged about perfecting. Highly unprofessional worries sadly.

So out of all the tips and bits I've learned thus far, I've got one piece of random advice for you all: You can't let your personal feelings get in the way of your work. And this means any work or feeling (school project + insecurities, etc). Simple as this tip may be, it took a series of events and time to make the meaning to this advice really sink in. Another something I would've never truly known had I not made my mistakes here and learned for the better. But hopefully and luckily, you wouldn't have to go through the unprofessional embarrassment it takes for this advice. The sooner the better.

6:26 AM (F)

When the hell did I get so flippin insecure?

Mend the bond torn by pride

Well if you haven't noticed already, it is certainly very difficult for me to forgive someone, or admit to any kind of wrong doing. Whether its my dogmatic pride clinging to my being; I can't even think up the words to begin forgiveness. I have no faith in my forgiveness at all & sooner than you'd realize, I'd hold severely damaging grudges- even if I may have "forgiven you". Empty words. I never thought I'd be the person to hold such grudges (since I've frowned upon how pathetic it is to never move on) but here I am, the sweet little short haired hypocrite.

I hate when these moments happen. Of course it's easy for you. But you have to understand what I go through. Unlike you, it's hard for me to just pin point a problem and explain it out loud. I can't just tell you a tangible explanation of why I did what I did, you have to simply be patient with me, and TRY understanding, pride aside. I guess you'd say it's unfair that you'd have to push your pride away first in order to understand me, but you certainly seem more self aware than I ever will be. You could sit there silently and list out your points just as that, whereas all I do is take it all in and break the faucet of uncontrollable tears. I don't even cry that hard, yet my ears begin to throb, as if I'm going deaf and it refuses to hear anymore hurtful things.

I am honestly really hurt right now.

There.

I laid that out for you.

I would like to think I at least seem like I'm trying, like I try to see things from your perspective and not argue for my side, but apparently I don't. I don't know what the problems are. I wish you could understand how I feel, what I think and had to keep from you to stay happy. But I guess all those hidden lies are about to surface and they're becoming pretty apparent. All that arguing and I'm so tired already. I know, we have to talk out these problems, but a lot of times I wish we could just act like it never happened and keep on. The happiness isn't fake though. If that's what you're worried about. It's true genuinely caring love happiness. But I guess that's not enough to keep you from watching the TV instead of holding a dinner conversation with me.

A Midnight in Paris

“Nostalgia is denial. Denial of the painful present. The name for this denial is Golden Age thinking - the erroneous notion that a different time period is better than the one ones living in - its a flaw in the romantic imagination of those people who find it difficult to cope with the present.”

@#$%^&

Orientation tomorrow. Both excited and unprepared (of course). Hopefully I don't make a fool of myself! Sigh.. to my meaty Ms. Trunchbull man calves.

Whores in my head

My thoughts are too mushed up, jumbled and unworthy to be shared out loud. I can never clearly let you see my mind unless I sit there and think about what I am going to say for an hour before I say it. But then the moment will pass, the conversation will move on & I will never have another chance to say it unless I bring it up unnecessarily. Even after writing something here and staring at the amateur words I've written, it just doesn't compare to the truth in the words of others. It's a sad truth & I find it so incredibly disappointing at how ordinary my life, thoughts and daydreams can be. Others will always say or write or do things with so much more eloquence and beauty than I could ever do on my own. It's so pathetic but I realize I can't stop. I can't stop being like this. I can't stop trying too hard. It's the only way I know.

"When you notice someone

& they're smiling or whatever, but then for a second you catch a sadness in their eyes and you know that their mind is elsewhere for a moment."

The Annihilation of Local Supermarket Competition

When I grow to a ripe young adult age with an apartment home of my own, I shall raise an avocado tree that shall produce delicious avocado babies. I will then steal away such fruits from their natural home and proceed to eluding customers to instead buy my own sweetly and organically grown avocados that provide twice the meat and negative times the amount of dusty wallet spending of normally horrendously, expensively priced and feebly sized avocados from their local chain store markets.

What a shame that I find myself wanting to do so much all at once, then I end up doing nothing at all.

Anything to look forward to?

It's been a week since we graduated. And I have yet to do something truly productive and worth living. It's a shame everyone I know is either too busy or will only be free once I'm gone.

“So many people are shut up tight inside themselves like boxes, yet they would open up, unfolding quite wonderfully, if only you were interested in them."
— Sylvia Plath

I chopped off my hair today. It looks the same, but still... it's all gone. And I miss it so much. I never knew I had so much hair.. This always happens. I ask for a change, I get it, & I'm disappointed in the end. I shall never be satisfied. If only I could spend the big bucks on those luscious lana waves. If only.. Now I shall spend the rest of my summer dawning a short pathetic pony tail until the day comes that my hair grows to a style worth unveiling.

Synonyms & Adjectives

After a meal of steamed dumplings and a small stroll around the market, we settled to watch 21 jumpstreet. So freaking ab wrenching hilarious. I especially enjoyed how amazingly accurate they portrayed present-day high school.

Asian tub baths> entertainment by face cloths you imagine to be a sinking boat.

Then after, discovered the whereabouts of special baseball gloves and a pitcher helmet. Attempted to a game of catch in the hallway before messing about a camera shoot and listening to fantastic new tunes on Aweditorium- a lovely invention on the infamous ipad.

Ignoring me for that jetpack game hmph

Playing around with iso lighting

It was a simple time together, spending most it at home, but it was absolutely perfect. Suppressed laughter in the death of the night. It was the simple definition of happy young love. So disgustingly cheesy but so incredibly thankful to have.

Camera Obscured

Ever since I traded in the disgraceful kindlefire for my super duper compact system camera, I've been playing around with the idea of capturing the right moment with a fanciful touch (mostly involving either showing part of my face or none at all). To illustrate:

Graduation going by way too fast.

Staring off into the polluted hollywood haze of Universal Studios.

And again with the lack of facial revealings.

Well does thou-est get my drift? I don't exactly know the reason as to why I prefer taking my photos this way, maybe it's a self conscious problem - hating the bottom half of my face. But anyhow, I intend on making this camera obscured touch my trademark in future pictures to come. Tata

An Overture To The Commencement Of A Very Rigid Journey

If last night's weather forecasted pouring rain, it would have been extremely appropriate. It was a night of many catharses- my conclusion to a now completely surreal experience. It wasn't the best night of my life, but at the same time I felt so happily relieved. High school both started and ended in apprehension for what was to come and what I've left behind. I'm afraid I've left regrets and horrible experiences that have shaped my pessimism but after graduation, I feel as if I've gone through a rejuvenation where I can now be the person I've always hoped yet feared to be. All those evil thoughts of the past, all that sad negativity has been cleansed away in the many warm embraces I've given and probably would never give again. I'm surprised it was all such painless goodbyes. It still hasn't dawned on me that these are faces I may never see again. Maybe it's because I've always rushed my leavings and never truly understood the meaning of a goodbye, that it's meant to be cherished and bittersweet. I did feel a tinge of the teary fuzziness for a second, but after I was just extremely ecstatic and smiling idiotically at any other that was dressed in the same ridiculous cap and gown. I have so many plans and dreams, oh so many, & I plan on acting them out now instead of hopelessly dreaming like before. No more wasted opportunities no matter how difficult reality will be. I surely shall start anew, if the fates allow. We can always start anew. I must remember not to lose this sense of self I've just now found. Honestly, nobody really knows where they're supposed to go. But for now, it's time to go live.

Even if I killed you - destroyed every ounce of your physical existence and dusted away the evidence - my mind still wouldn't be at peace.

You won't understand what's going on.

I don't really understand what it is also. But I do know this: I really really just want someone to simply emotionally punch me in the face. Yea I don't get it either. I basically just want to argue with someone. And it can't be just any argument with just any one. It has to be with someone I love, someone I care about or think of constantly; bickering of a little something where it would hit hard and hurt the most. I want them to call me out on every little flaw I have, every thing I've ever done to hurt them and hurt me back in the process. Everyone I know is so passive. They just take in all my angry remarks and say "I don't really feel like talking." But I need someone - someone who could stay with me through this emotional period I'm going through, whatever it is, someone who could scream back instead of letting the phone go silent and not know what to say. Someone that could hurt me just the same. I don't know why, but that's what I've really wanted. An argument. A fight. I'm tired of all the unspoken silences and dismissive looks. I need this fight, so that when it's all over, I shall never talk to this person again and I will lose that person I love so then, I would have lost everything, and then I could start over. Because you don't begin to live until you've lost everything.

I'm going about this the wrong way aren't I? Okay. Time to call to apologize.

A Series of Frustrations

It's at its last breath; teetering on a very dangerous edge and barely holding on. People ask me how you're doing but I honestly don't know myself. I can never talk to you. I never do. In fact we only speak for a few min a day. Sometimes a few words a day. Like we never established anything at all for the last two years. Every time I try or whenever I need someone to talk to, I try to confide in you. But you're never there for me. Always busy or in some loud place. Never again can we just lay in bed and smile sleep to the phone.

I guess this is what I wanted. But why does it still hurt so much? I thought I was better. I thought I could take it. But after this small meeting, it's all back to normal. I really want to just, shut myself in a place no one could reach me until I'm better again. I can't even concentrate right now..

you are here

Today I went to church for, technically, the first time. And they had us close our eyes and pray to our hearts. When I did, I felt something really.. different. I felt like I died to myself. Like I threw away my pride and ego for 2 seconds. I didn't understand why it was so hard for me to simply raise my hand up, even if I thought I was faking it. But even faking that, I hesitated. Honestly, it felt embarrassing - like the kind of embarrassed you get when your pride is mocked or tested. Maybe that's why I hesitated. I even opened my eyes to see if anyone was watching but I shut it fast. I didn't want to be seen with my hand up - that meant I would be believing in something that made no sense. Everything being said, everything about faith and a confusing relationship - it all absolutely did not make any sense and has never made sense. But I kept my hand there, at my heart, even though it felt so degrading. Just this small struggle broke me and then I felt the tears sliding down. What in the world was wrong with me? I found myself crying, but not exactly sure what for. But still, I cried and the tears just kept on coming. Whether it was for all the weariness, worries and internal pains of feeling so lost - I just cried. Then the lights came on and just like that, it was over.

Afterwards, even if it was for a small moment, I felt a sense of complete contentment. Not peace, but just content; like the feeling you get when you eat the right amount of food in a meal. It felt good driving to Buffalo Springfield while on our way to dinner actually. Nothing to do but grin pointlessly at all the good things I have. So for a moment, I was happy. I even smiled at people I normally wouldn't have smiled at - and by that I mean genuinely smiled, from the outside AND in this time. No more past tensions to weigh me down. But it was only for a moment and nothing more. And now I'm writing this blog.

There's something happening here. What it is, ain't exactly clear. Well maybe I'm just scared. And stubborn. Too weak to move forward. Too afraid of what's to come next. Too ashamed to even admit it. But there's something happening here. I'm sure of it.

Watching Pooh's Grand Adventure. For the next 75 min, no one shall exist.
Gosh how I do love this movie.

"I don't know what else to do, except to try to dream of you. And wonder if you're dreaming too. Wherever you are.."

nothing worth the praise

I find it ironic that people are commending me for recycling. As if I'm this amazing great soul for doing so. I'm just moving trash to another area - like India, where it will be recycled by smog producing fire machines that bring more fumes into the atmosphere. It's not like I'm saving the world or making it better. Well... maybe for suburban society yes. Moving away what isn't wanted to be seen so things seem somewhat nicer. As if stuffing all the dust under the rug makes a room truly clean. They see me picking up their trash when I see myself making extra pocket money. It's as simple as that.

This new blogspot layout needs some getting used to.

Dammit. I either want or never want to have anything to do with you ever again. I don't know which I could live with. Loud noise electro beats to block it all out. Like death metal screamo to some, I've been listening to transformer dubstep. Those drops couldn't be a better remedy to my headbanging angry phases.

History, Expectations, Reality

“Do you want to go eat dinner at your cousin Cammi’s today?” I shuffled to the door and settled into the car. My mother’s voice sounded again. “Hey Mei, dinner?” Her question finally settled in my consciousness as I processed her words slowly. After a long day at school, I would have enjoyed nothing more than the comforts of my own room at home but then I began to weigh the options. Dinner at my cousin’s guaranteed a filling meal, good old bonding time, but most of all, the possibility of seeing my father. My father. The type of man that was rumored to be reckless, impulsive, and have this aura of the greatest intimidation. My parents divorced when I was too young to remember. Every once in awhile I would receive birthday money, a small visit on the weekends to catch up, but overall, history with my father never involved a stable enough relationship to spark a loving affection for. The thought of meeting him again always seemed to strike a fear in me. What if it’s awkward? Do I hug him? What do I say? – but as soon as my mother’s voice came back again, I conclude to an answer and agree to go. I figured being with my cousin was a much more pleasant thought than the awkwardness of meeting him. I just won’t drop by to say hello, I thought.

My cousin lived literally two doors away from my father, but a visit to her house never gave excuse to visit his. As my mother and I were greeted at the door, I saw every face except one. Oh no, I realized, I forgot that today was one of those days my cousin had night classes. Down went all those thoughts of hanging out and with it replaced disappointment as I took a seat to eat dinner with a table full of adults. My mother and Aunt struck up a conversation I had no interest in. No more interest now that I was the only child there. I began picking at my food. I was all alone. Then the front door opened and in came my father. He took two steps inside and soon locked eyes with my mother. I began to wonder if he might even join us for a bowl of soup - but the second this happened, he turned back around and headed straight for the door, closing it behind him without a word. Typical. “Where did he go? He doesn’t want to eat?” I asked. “Oh he probably left because I’m here.” my mother responded indifferently. And then, dinner went back to normal. I began to think about my father. Where he went and whether I should go see him. No, you don’t want that, I told myself, it’s going to be too awkward.

After the meal, the adults decided to go out to a night seminar which left me at my cousin’s home with their two dogs. I settled at the living room and took out my itouch, resorted to trying to beat a high score on Fruit Ninja to pass time. Yet at the same moment I settled down, my itouch died. It had to be the most amazing perfect thing to happen at that moment. Now I was truly was alone. I called my cousin who seemed to be the only person in her home to own a charger, but she wouldn’t be coming back home anytime soon. And then she suggested one thing, “Your dad has one.” My dad has one. Of course my dad has one. But the thought of walking two doors down made me cringe. So I thanked her, hung up, and stared at the dead device. What am I going to do now? I wondered. Then at that moment, there was a knock on the door and my father appeared. He was back to get something from the house he had forgotten to get before. This moment of realization gave me a split second to prepare for the flood of awkward small talk to come. I forced a smile.

“Uhmm oh hey dad.” I began.
“Mei mei! What are you doing here?” He said.
“Just… sitting. We ate dinner here! What about you?”
“I just needed to get some keys.” He responded.
“Oh okay.”

Silence. He then caught sight of the itouch in my hands. “You have an itouch now?” He walked over and began to fiddle with it. “What’s wrong with it? Did it lose battery?”
“Yeah. I was trying to beat my high score on Fruit Ninja.”
“You play Fruit Ninja? I’m good! Here, I teach you.” With that, he took my itouch and walked out the door. I assumed I was supposed to follow him, so I scrambled up and shuffled behind him to his house. Once there, he took a charger, plugged it in and began to play. I stood at first and then sat down next to him.

“The trick is you have to get a lot of good combos, see.” A swoop. The fruit juices come splattering down.
“And you can move your hand around; you don’t have to just chop in a straight line.” He made a graceful swish congratulated with several points worth applauding.
“Aha! See! This is how you play Fruit Ninja!” And with the final flick, he landed a total of 967 points in one try. It took me all day to even get up to a quarter of that score. I was in an awe of disbelief.

“Wow… Dad…ha! Now let me try.” And I reached for the device.

Noshi Sushi

The only way to get a good smile shot of him is if you sneak a candid moment while he's laughing his hilarious little giggle no one could imitate.

Would you consider pride a fault or a virtue?

That I couldn't say. Maybe it's that I find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offenses against me. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.

Before you are quick to judge, watch where their motives lie. But it is possible his pride has taken over his love for you. A lot of times, hope gets in the way of seeing one's true character. The character that is flawed and can make you hurt.

I'm sorry my dear. It breaks me to see you hurt like this. I wish it were ethical to leave my dead jacuzzi rat rotting on his doorstep. That'll show him.

Impulsssscision

CONS: Yes, it's two days to prom.
-Yes, you have no experience in making actual clothes (or using your sewing machine).
-You already spent $140 on a dress that doesn't fit after spending two afternoons arguing with a bush-mouthed manager.
-You're rushing everyone around you to help and bothering them to grudging thoughts.
-Your grade will drop from having to retake two tests after the last day of the six week grading period.
-Everyone professional claims it is impossible to do so in so little time.
-Everyone says you can't do it.

PROS: I'm going to look damm sexy.

Looks like the pros outweigh the cons! It's 10:28 PM, Thursday night and I have no intention of resting anytime soon. My blood is coursing with caffeine to push me on through the night. I absolutively must get this done. It's so depressing how I work the best under stress and pressure, seeing how I tend to always put things off to last minute until the full force of the situation hits. So many things to prepare, and I'm far from finished. Why oh why do all my good ideas always come so last minute? Well break time over, back to the sewing machines. Be like Nike.

How to Bargain w/o Really Trying

17 years of living half an hour away from one of the most unexpectedly exciting cities in the world and I never got to experience any of these hidden diners and cafes. We spent all afternoon today experiencing the aesthetic appeals of LA. From tasting exotic rattlesnake rabbit sausages, visiting more restaurant inspirations, haggle shopping, and meeting other imaginary communities; it was a good last day to this year's spring break. I was smiling like an idiot the whole time. Shame I couldn't take any pictures worth looking at. Anyways, it seems like every time we make a trip to the Rose Bowl Flea Market, the weather decides to blaze searing hot sun rays on our delicate bodies. But despite the heat, I was able to get some really good deals today. I really think I'm getting a hang of this bargaining!

Tips I learned:
-Only haggle when cash is involved and there is no set price
-Set a really low price for a reason (point out rips, stains, wears & tears), you can always haggle your way up to a compromised price
-Combine two items for a cheaper price (2 $15 bags for $25)
-Be able to perceive which seller is rude and which doesn't care about what price, as long as they have the money (Dunn let them rude ones get your money)
-Don't be swayed by the seller's reasons for their unbelievably ridiculous pricing, if it's too high then don't buy it (no matter how amazing that leather green backpack may be)
-Be confident in your stated price
-State an imaginary competitor's lower price, if they believe you and if they're that desperate for money, then you got your deal (muahaha)

That is all. Happy Bargaining/Easter/Last day of break/&homework cram day. Oh goodness, back to school. What a drag. Time to lose my soul again to brainless thinking meh.

what a bore

I've misplaced my glasses. Now my vision is slightly impaired, contributing to my future squint wrinkles. Oh sight. Now I have to commit to gathering enough energy at the end of the day to drag myself to the bathroom and apply these night contacts that don't seem to work no matter how many times I put them on. My vision will always be slightly impaired.

I was listening to my ipod today. Ipod not itouch because I destroyed it in the process of hopelessly fixing its cracked screen. My ipod kept making heaving last breaths until it died on me completely.

Every little item to help make my life a little bit easier has failed on me today.

Boo hoo.

I wonder if a glasses gnome took it.

I even googled it. No response. But I did find this article. About how our minds coincide constantly with our long and short term memories to make decisions and forget things.

I wonder if I tapped into my short term memories, I would be able to find my glasses somewhere in there.

I wonder about how limited our minds remember things. That if we truly were able to tap into the other part of our unconsciousness, we would remember and understand everything. Limitless. I hope this were true. Then I could find my glasses.

I wonder if I can start lucid dreaming.

I sit on a chair there to think about where my glasses could possibly be. Then my mind drifts to other sounds. A conversation begins citing questions that I never dreamed of asking. The idea of doing the unthinkable by a feeling so real. I've been quite curious lately on how to achieve such a feat. I've been curious of a lot of things.

Then I wake up.

How realistic my dreams have become. How boring.

And I still have not found my glasses.

Jealousy is not a good feeling. I need a way to cleanse it out before it rots my whole being.

Like gold to airy thinness beat

To see it’s figure, it’s outline, the ideas and beautiful thoughts forming but still hazy. Hazy enough to keep me quiet and hurting. It hurts. This irritating silence. You're my only problem right now and I can't even confront it. I can’t think. I’m in a state before thinking. I see it, but only bits and pieces. I’m so frustrated. Why can’t I communicate these thoughts. I do know that I am frustrated. I do know that I hate the feeling I get every time I hear your godforsaken name - seeing how happy you are. How pathetic it is that all my thoughts end leading back to you. I really am holding onto something that's destroying me every second aren't I? Yet I still have this masochistic need to make you things - maybe for another chance? But must I be so pathetic around you? Why waste my thoughts that only lead me to disappointment? You've stretched my hope thin. And not in the optimistic way Robert Parker writes to his distanced lover, but in a far worse way that's made me the pathetic weak being I've become because of this. I feel so betrayed and hurt. But there's nothing I can do but float along with your genuinely good hearted sappy niceness GOD it makes me sick to see how nice you are. Why do you have to be such a good person? Makes it even worse knowing I hate you. Makes me feel like a terrible person. I'm a terrible person. My pride has a hard time accepting this defeat. There's really nothing I could do but secretly hate you like any other immature child would do. And because of you, I now have a hard time trusting people. Because of you, I have a hard time having faith in anything. Thanks for that.

This mental stagnation is such a problem. I constantly find I am able to give answers to others when I find myself still held back, unable to move ahead and accept anything as comforting. Putting my thoughts to the test and even reading. And yet I could feel what a sham my true motives are. I'm searching for answers but silently I hear a secret voice, telling me this mental stagnation is now a comfort. Or is it? Je n'ai aucune idée.

Been a fool for weeks
'Cause my heart stands for nothing and your soul's too weak
Got a will that's been around for days
Goes far if you want it, it needs to behave.

I will never know
what had rot my heart
it just came and went
in the dark

Wrapped up in my reveries

I've been finding time plenty more bearable being alone than around other people. Books become more entertaining than socialization. It's a lot more comforting really. No one there to shoot an odd look when I have my random outbursts and grimacing moments. Like how I ran away today, even if it was for only an hour. An hour of pure peace and quiet. Somehow I manage. I just need to occupy myself with a constant something. No big deal! And for now it's reading the Hunger Games trilogy (sadly to which I am about to finish very soon). Then it's back to searching for another something to fill the void.

Well, I guess I should have seen this coming pulling such an idiotic move like that. It's so hard to rid my mind of such childish thoughts plagued with worry when the stupid memories keep resurfacing. I wish I could really say I am wrapped up in all my reveries when asked what's on my mind, but instead there's honestly nothing pleasant to say because it's not reveries but regrets.

"Sometimes, upon waking, the residual dream can be more appealing than reality, and one is reluctant to give it up. For a while, you feel like a ghost — Not fully materialized, and unable to manipulate your surroundings. Or else, it is the dream that haunts you. You wait with the promise of the next dream. But the act of waking is dependent on remembering." -Blankets

The Wisdom of Rats

"Time has also been a problem since I cannot keep the past in the past, cannot believe the present is pure and freestanding, and think the future is simply a place we imagine."


Well... it's a start. Even though it still brings back a tugging pain every once in awhile. At least I don't miss you anymore.

I can't do this. I can't let this go. Why is it so hard for me to simply just forget about it? I thought I was happy and I thought I moved on. But one second back and my mind is out of control. I can't concentrate. I can't hear what they are saying. What anyone is saying. It's not clear. It's all just leading back to that one thing and it's so so very LOUD. All I can think about is that presence right there and it's driving me MAD. Chasing nonsense. Why. Why WHY? I don't know what to do. I don't know who to turn to. How to get rid of this. Turn to God? But I have my doubts. I try too hard. All I can do is avoid it. I feel so pathetic knowing these thoughts are only one way. I can't believe it's all still bothering me. Please just make it stop.

"I do not associate with people who blame the world for their problems."

‎"Get out your guns it's time to start a fight'

I think we're made to feel pain. To absorb it into our every being, purposely tempting sadness. I want someone to yell at me. To be angry and just rip apart this memory to the point where I could feel it. I need to wake up so I can feel something, anything. And so, I target the one's I'm closest to. I press their buttons. I fail to keep conversation. I make my pathetic frown apparent. Everything I used to do when I was a little brat child. But nothing. Not even an answer. Every second becomes a second too late to respond back and then the thought is forgotten. Destructive loneliness once again.

The problem is that I have too many expectations which ultimately leave me with disappointment. Stuck with a mind that only hears what it wants to hear because it's easier. Yes. For some reason, it seems easier to collide paths with someone than to be alone. Much more easier to run away from what your mind, body and soul are screaming out because it's better than facing the truth.

Cherish the moment when you see one's passion come alive through finger tips and sound in closed eyes.

I miss those days when everyone would blog, even if it was step by step narration of meaningless events.

Oh no! Home alone on a monday night after a rainy day... I know the Negative Thoughts are watching closely, ready to pounce. Can this week crawl by any slower?

I miss my sunglasses.

Texas. At this point, my summer stay in Texas is at a 50/50 chance. The decision stands as to whether I still feel like going or not. I've been weighing the options. It shouldn't matter leaving everyone/thing I know even if it is for a short while. Gotta have a break from Southern California. Sure I haven't truly yet experienced the essence of LA Nights and Socal sun, but those adventures shall wait until I have the freedom and chance to. So on one hand, I get to finally leave and meet new people, learn new things, get a job. On the other hand, I'd be living a summer with a complete stranger. That's... about it. Nothing to miss. But will I be able to bear the prospect of having no authority to answer to but myself? For "madness is the result of being removed from one’s social context and allowed to be the sole arbiter of one’s own actions." Yet here I am still struggling with the idea of nothing to miss. Seems like every relationship I have nowadays is just as easily disconnected. Inspiration comes with such ease, but I never have the strength to actually do anything about it.

I am a walking lightning bolt.

Everything I touch is a static shock. I think it's all this negativity taking over my mind and distributing themselves rather comfortably all around; thus leaving my body with quite a surplus of negative charge. I can practically feel the excitement of my negative particles floating along, happy to have so much free space to roam now that all my positive charge has disappeared along with my optimistic mind. How discomforting. It's as if everywhere I go is a carpet, and I'm just shuffling along in wool socks. But instead of a carpet, it's my days; and instead of socks, it's my mind: the mecca to all this negativity. I guess this is what it's come to.

You suck. You suck you suck you suck I hate you goodbye. You suck.

Such a problem when we let our emotions get the best of us.

To my utter dismay, I've got nothing to say.

"In time, things will get better." Procrastination at its finest. Everything I do goes along with this thought, consciously or not. For instance: high school. But I do try to enjoy it. I have to. It's my senior year. But I can't, all I can do is nothing but feel so drained. These people aren't your people. Everyone is at a disconnect in their little groups. You didn't grow up with them. So don't try. In my apathetic mind, I don't try. And I just don't feel anything. I don't feel that there is a problem with not enjoying my senior year to its fullest potential; not speaking to anyone and just staying silent. No problem with hating every second I move from class to class. Yet concurrently, I'm screaming inside my silent mind, screaming at how much of an idiot I am for being like this.

But no worries! In time, things will get better. In time, I will graduate to college and my apathetic mind will melt away, leaving my true being to finally reveal itself. But nothing has changed. I'm weak, indecisive, and stubborn with no faith in anything. I can't open myself up to anyone as much as I do on this blog ironically. I fear getting close to anyone, even those you'd expect I should be close to and I can never answer the question to "What's wrong?" I don't know what's wrong. In the moment I'm asked, I can't think of an answer. I get frustrated over the simplest things and I keep telling myself to change everyday. Smile more. Appreciate things. Socialize goddammit! But I don't. Because the confines of my mind are so much more comforting than making eye contact with others. I don't have everything I need to be in a content state. I have no idea how to even get close to being in a content state. I hope looking forward to "in time" will not be another big disappointment. 30 hours in less than a month. Projects. Rehearsal. School. Hangouts. A 10pm curfew. Sleep. So much to do in so little time that my sleep has been the first to take the toll. When WILL the time come when things get better? I don't know whether to anticipate the day or just be plain terrified.

I thought a thought.

I hate being here. I want to be alone in my room pantsless and not having a single care. But no. I usually spend most of the time in my room thinking anyways. Thinking and over thinking everything that I shouldn't be thinking about. My greatest weakness is that I think too much about what people think of me. A bit too much. And a lot of times it's the very problem that hinders me from getting close to anyone. I would be with a group of people wanting to catch up, yet I would rather walk away to be alone again. I am constantly full of emotions, worrying and thinking of ways to be more sociable, but when the moment comes, I reject the idea and do nothing. A contradiction. But I dont want to do anything and it's becoming extremely difficult for me to maintain small talk conversations (no matter how interesting you could debate the difference between essays and research papers). My mind is on its smoking break, just blanking out mid conversation. I fall asleep standing up with my eyes open and I don't pay attention. My thoughts drift. Call it rude, but I can not put myself through another meaningless small talk conversation anymore. I would just leave to go blank out somewhere else. I don't know how to respond to these situations. What's wrong?

"There's no point to lessons that don't bring with them pain. People can't gain anything without sacrificing something, right. But once you've successfully endured that pain, you gain a heart that is stout enough not to be overcome by anything. A heart made fullmetal."

I've finally been able to finish watching all of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood. Success! But that means no more new episodes of How I Met Your Mother, Misfits, or The Office... now what? I find myself always searching for another new game, series or hobby that completely wastes my time but can't help to waste my time with. I've been searching for something that could fill up those moments of emptiness and space to accompany my mind aside from my boring days. Every show always has an end though. Or just takes way too long to broadcast a new episode. Goodness, my patience is killing me. I have the patience to work on simple things on my own, but when it comes to dealing with other things beyond my control, I start to get restless. Fullmetal Alchemist, what a lovely story. I shall miss looking forward to its episodes of awesomeness.

Hello to the New Year!

I haven't blogged since last year! Good riddance to 2011. What a complicated time. But this year shall be a new start! A new start to a completely similar lifestyle. I shall have no new resolutions this year only due to the reason that it takes too much energy thinking of one and I probably will never pull through with it. This apathetic senior mind is getting to me. But I'll try. I shall try thinking of everyday as a new start and enjoying my time when I'm around people. I shall try to finish whatever I start. But that probably won't happen anytime soon. There's a lot on my schedule that I need to get over with, but I just don't have the interest or time to. Lately I've been tired. Very tired.

"May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself."
—Neil Gaiman