Pre-Passionate

So maybe I always knew it would come to this. The timing is perfect, the schedules align... heck, even the technology is cheering. And so it seems to ask me: why not?
If I remember, my New Year's resolutions did not include "exercise more," yet the probability of that is going down and down as I continue to fulfill my first resolution: EAT LESS CRAP!
After reading those articles about how you can fulfill any goal, after changing my schedule to accommodate waking up at 5am and going to bed at 9pm, after realizing that audiobooks can now be bought and downloaded directly from Amazon, and after finally finally understanding that I am uncomfortably overweight, I now have decided - I am going to exercise more.

My decision will progress as follows:
- Wake up at 5am
- Work out for at least 15 minutes [as per the articles: make it so easy that you can't not do it]
- Attend the gym 3 times per week [Sunday, Saturday, Tuesday sounds good]
- Go to yoga [Mondays]
- Look for interesting classes at the gym or articles to keep up
- Download an audiobook and test out its merit
- Repeat for 4 weeks

If I hate it after 4 weeks, then I can scale down. If I love it after 4 weeks, I can scale up. There is no harm in trying, I think. And so, we go!

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Strangeness

You know, as much as all the work they are putting on us, I have been feeling something quite strange and other than stress - joy.
It's completely insane, but I think that with completing everything I am passing all the tests and hitting all the marks; regardless of the grade or the changes or the new work they're shoving, I am finally at the end of something and not just the middle or the beginning.
Beginnings are great, middles are great, everything is great [is what I tell myself] but I still think that ends are very sweet in a strange way. Sweet and sad. And so, in this next week of "final" exams and all of these old things ending, I am going to start some new things. Partially here.
I have been doing pretty well with giving myself little goals to keep sane and motivated, so I think that my next thing to work on is... self-study.
Lately there has been no time for anything other than school. School, school, school. I have had no time to read or educate myself or do anything that remotely interests me other than the stuff that's still (you guessed it) associated with school. So, I am going to go back to reading the books on psychology and articles on other various subjects and perhaps even posting my interesting findings here [I have found that keeping a blog really keeps me on track with self-oriented projects - it also lets me vent and whine in case there is nothing to be had]
Anyway, for now we are ending. But the beginnings, I hope, will be just as sweet as their oh-so-delicious ends.

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Bases

I think I might start doing one-word titles. They're less encumbering to the reading eye [and I am just tired of sounding as long-winded as I am].
Anyway, today I am going to cover the same lame trend of using a photograph that I took a while ago and posting up my writing experiment for the day. Because I will have no time later - no matter how much I would wish it.

The matte sheet of sky is cut in half by deep blue. Below the windless centerline, I float in a sea with no fish and no life. My paddles upset the strict tranquility here.
I look around to get my bearings – there is no land and no boat sails past. My hair sticks up strangely, but the water feels like tap water, dyed to match the deep blue pill that I had swallowed so quickly. My head still rolls from the medication.
I had hoped that Lilya would have given me some sort of message, but it seems she stuck me in transit, waiting for the next move. I still did not know the man who had assaulted me, but in this surreal world I at least got the use of my hand back. That night was a distant image now, even so soon after – my mind wanted to lock it away.
Leah…
I hear a soft whisper and struggle to buoy myself up in the water. It is a male voice, but it seems awfully familiar. I look around and see… no one.
Leah. I am not gone.
“Charlie?” I call out, puzzled, “Charlie!”
There is a whisper of something like wind through my ear; I can feel its bold touch tapping into my brain. A moment later I recognize it as unpleasant.
Leah, don’t worry about the man. Worry about Jack and Lilya. They need you right now…
“Why weren’t you there that night? I called out to you but—“
It’s not important right now. Just… please, try to remember everything you can about last night. Everything happens for a reason – remember it.
The voice is distinctly Charlie’s now, upset but always trying to be mysterious. We haven’t seen him in a year and yet he is still the same old Charlie that we knew. My gut jerks backward behind my navel and I opened my mouth.
From the cavity, I feel something burst up. Again unpleasant, but not painful, I extract a small thin vial from between my teeth. I wiped off the saliva and looked down at it.
This will help you later.
The tense silence returns as I look down at the clear vial with what appeared to be plain tap water within it. After last year, I know not to question Charlie about it.
When I look up, the sky has been tinted pink, and the water less piercing blue. Light diffuses from beneath the surface, and each of the colors blend together into one large mass as the scene disappears and I am left in the darkness behind my own eyelids.

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Nexistentialism

I wrote most of this post this morning [during English class, yes, I don't care if that is incriminating] so the only thing I am going to say other than that is that I must must MUST finish my personal stuff tomorrow morning - we have school, then Speak rehearsal and then an open rehearsal for A Midsummer Night's Dream and so I won't get home till probably 9pm. Wooh...
And, as well, I am kind of embarrassed to say that I haven't been able to do as much photography in the past 2 days so I have only the stuff that I took yesterday [dramatized above] and might have to use that tomorrow. It's sad, but at least I got to be photographic heavily for the two days before! Anyway, on to the post.

As I sat with my dad at the breakfast table, he trading stocks and I shooting emails out into the wild, I was reminded of the philosophy I decided to adopt a while ago: existentialism.
But in an edited way, you know? I believe in God and I believe in the works of man, but I have decided that... none of it really matters.
The world is futile, effort as well. All has been preordained in my opinion; God is the ultimate judge.
When I was so apathetic, in the years where depression hit hardest, this gave me some purpose. Ironic, right? No purpose to make purpose.
Right now I feel I should think to that again. Breathe in, breathe out. And maybe all this stress will melt into purpose. I will make myself healthy, I will hold myself accountable.
After all, if life has no purpose, why not make the best of it?

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Check-In

Just checking in because I have already become late on my sleep schedule tonight [it was either exercise or sleep on time I guess - I just wasn't aware of this when I left the house]
I think I have to take a deep breath because I am so deeply stressed about what's going on. Today I asked if I could schedule a regular doctor's appointment - and realized that I have no time for it. School and my extracurricular activities and the reform-your-life-to-be-more-healthy-and-happier thing... really taking a toll on me.
I know that I overbook myself in a lot of ways, but right now I am just in crisis mode and wading through. Every small goal is a victory. Getting the + after my B in biology was like a grand moment. Now I just have to push for an A. I just have to push in everything. I just have to... no wonder the girls at practice said that I looked tired today.
No matter, I'll get up at 6am tomorrow and do my emails then. No time for me, but that's ok! I would rather shower and eat now than later.
Ironically, today is the 27th... so shouldn't I be happier? Who knows.
Also, the picture above is of the lining of my new coat [from Costco!]. I just wanted to use the flash and I have been kind of looking for subjects around my house and... ok... I am trying to find things to photograph quickly because today I didn't have time to be all artistic like I enjoy being. Stupid self. Anyway, enjoy.

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Des Bouquins, Des Magazines, Des Feuilles... Mais Pas De Temps!

I wrote too much yesterday. So today I am just going to say exactly what I want.
I want TIME TO READ!

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One of Those Days...

I'm sure everyone has those days when they just don't want to work. Some more often than others - I fall into that 'others' category. But today is that type of a day. Nothing seems interesting, there is a lot of work but no inclination to do it, people are frustrating... yeah, the whole lot.
So for right now I'm taking a breather and am going to write instead of freaking out. I over-think and over-do, but I feel just so sluggish today that I want none of it. None, I tell you!
[Did I forget to mention? I actually am keeping up with this writing experiment, as I said I would. Nothing makes sense or is in relation - but I am getting a lot of interesting ideas, and it just feels good to put pen to paper. Yay for small changes!]

“Place your fist in your mouth and breathe through your nose. Don’t try to talk.”
I looked desperately from one side of the room to the next – Jack was lying unconscious in the corner and Lilya was nowhere to be seen. The metal folding chair beneath me bit into my skin as he cinched my right arm to it with duct tape. My other hand I balled dutifully into a fist and stuck it between my teeth.
“Good,” he said, putting duct tape over my cheeks and hand for extra insurance, “Very good.”
His mask was askew on his head, listing to one side to expose a pale white spread of neck and a tuft of brown hair. I watched closely as his green eyes moved hastily from his work to the bag in his hand – he was wearing contacts.
“I’m going to ask you questions. But you’re not going to answer with sounds – you’re going to nod your head for yes and shake it for no. Got it?” I nodded.
A door opened onto the grand ballroom below us and I saw a sliver of light from between the bars surrounding the balcony. The masked man crouched down for a second, waiting for them to pass, his eyes flicking even faster from side to side. Would they see us? Would they look up? My heart sunk back into my stomach as they exited the room, closing the lavender doorway behind them.
“Ok,” the man said in a half-whisper after the door had closed, “Do you have the money?”
I must have given him an odd look, because he suddenly balled his hands into fists. My fingers lost feeling inside my mouth – I had bitten down on them. Hard.
The man came closer, his all-black outfit now looking faded as he approached me. Right before his first kick knocked me to the ground, I remember thinking what a lame villain.
Then I was down, tasting blood from my fingertips as they sheared open with the force of my teeth. I tried to release the hand from between my jaws but the tape held it firm – I bit down again, trying to stop the flow of liquid streaming from my eyes.
Where is Charlie? Where is Charlie? I kept thinking; my head swirled as I looked up through a fresh spring of tears.
“Do you have the money?” he repeated. Desperation and impatience were edging at his tone. What could I tell him? I had no clue.
The second kick rocked me back against the wall, blood from my fist trailing down onto the floor as I skidded over it. I didn’t feel anything at first, but I saw bright pinpricks of light as the wind rushed back into me; my stomach had imploded under the pressure. Charlie? Charlie? Charlie?
My thoughts were the calmest thing about me. Everything seemed like a surreal dream – from experience, I knew that I was losing consciousness.
“Do you have it? DO YOU HAVE IT?” the man screeched at me, his exasperated tone and high volume ringing in my ears. But everything was slowing down now… the room was spinning and it was so terribly slow…
***
“Do you have it? Do you have it?”
I seized up. A female voice was right over me, speaking so hurriedly that I felt nervous. Where was I? I didn’t know. By the time I realized that I had woken up, there were hazy people all around me, standing or leaning against white walls. I still didn’t know where I was, but I knew it wasn’t the ballroom – the lack of lavender tipped me off.
The woman was still shouting for something, whatever ‘it’ was, but now that I wasn’t on the cold balcony floor, I relaxed. My mouth felt open and small; my fingers were uncurled over the sheets beside me. I opened my eyes wider, trying to focus my vision.
“Leah?” one of the hazy people said, and I turned my head to the sound of their voice.


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Epic

Today was just awesome.
For photography, for food, for hanging out with people, for... well, a lot of things. I am going to have a really long-winded post today just to belt out all of this stuff from my system. And then there are the 50 billion pictures that I am going to put - at the end of the post so that it doesn't look like I'm entirely neurotic. But I will put my favorite one at the top!
Anyway, yesterday was Sophia's going-away party and we rocked out for a while [though it was kind of hard to because barely anyone outside of our group showed up to the dance] and then went to a coffee shop and played Apples to Apples for a while to get acquainted. I won once and got something like... Harmful, European, Refreshing, Hot, something. So that is apparently my personality - brilliant! It was just great to meet all those different people and to send off Sophia in the way that she wanted. Yet it didn't hit me then that she was leaving; ironically, that only happened today at the time she left Gasworks Park. I will miss her soooo much!
[as an off topic bracketed side note, I went to Costco yesterday before her birthday and found the most awesome pair of jeans ever and a new bathing suit and a novel about Bangladesh during the separation from Pakistan - totally win! I went back today and got 3/4 of what I wanted: a warm jacket, bras, and stockings. I LOVE Costco!]
That brings us to this morning - where I made another collage mirror for Ka-chan's birthday gift (the picture of it is below if you prefer to look) and bought Indian food to bring to her house. Sadly, not as many people showed up for lunch as was expected and so we had a ton of food with only 3 guys, Ka-chan and I. So we partied it up at her house for a bit and then left for Gasworks [in Connor's dad's car which is actually super awesome - and warm when you stuff two large men in the back and "manwich" me between them... ehehe...]
I had never been to that park before today but now I am in love with it. There is just so much to photograph! The water and boats and skyline of Seattle and archaic rusting architecture and friends that come with you and rolling hills and dogs and arches and poles and geese and... *takes a breath* Today I am a little giddy and not so professional, as perhaps is noticeable. Oh well.
We just played around the park after that, in the frigid weather which we adjusted to after a time (though when I got home and took off my shoes, my toes felt like they were irradiated). Sophia and Lin showed up so we got to jog around and take pictures of each other and do crazy things - Grant, Connor and Mike were already there and acting themselves while trying to fly a kite. Then Rachel, Katie, and Austin arrived and we ate cake and talked about life as if it were some big explosion of creativity and luck. Which it is, in a way. Sophia and Lin left at about 5pm, and that was when it hit me. She's leaving. It made the joyous feelings just all the more memorable, and so we had a group Asian female hug fest for a few minutes before they left to the great yonder. *sigh*
Then we too departed; eating Ginger Thins and discussing a spring break road trip on the way back to B-Town [which is actually not what all the cool kids call Bellevue] and realized... life isn't all about school. I think that was perhaps the best part. I didn't think about school at all. I miss the days when that was so easy...
Ka-chan's birthday was great and grand (even though it really happens tomorrow, so I can still shout HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the sky so that she will hear it) and I think we all got to really step out of our student skins for a second [mega alliteration!] to finally be real. Let's hope it continues.
Here are the pictures - I hope that you get a kick out of the jumping ones, 'cause they're just that awesome.








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The Glory of Filbert

Filbert! It did not occur to me to use my beautiful knitted snake in a photoshoot - until today!
On completely different notes, today is the end of the week and the beginning of the weekend [which really doesn't mean much when you think about it... I'm still going to be working on stuff for school - it just means that I get a little party time in excess]. Both Ka-chan's birthday party and Sophia's going away party are happening this weekend [and I am going to be heading out at 7pm tonight to go dance the night away in crazy mournfulness and happiness at the same time] and so I am hoping that I can take a break for a while... I'll tell you how it goes.
I really am not feeling very interesting today [and as well strapped for time and pressured and all of those usual emotions that flood me when a bunch of projects are due and I am trying to juggle them alongside time for myself] but I will tell you this - I tried out the waking up at 5am and going to bed at 9pm regimen for the last two days and it actually worked.
I feel a lot better in the morning and I spend that time usually doing something that is completely for me - I read National Geographic yesterday (which I had totally been meaning to do for like... ever) and then did Speak work this morning. It is so much less pressure to work when the times are separated. And I've actually been pretty good on getting my work done in the 4 hours that I have between getting home and bed [although it still freaks me out every time because in the adjustment period I am hyperventilating over not having enough time *need to breathe*] In general, however, I think I might adopt this policy for the rest of the school year.
Anyway, people are going to be converging on my house within minutes, so I better type fast and get going. Bye!

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Pending

Today I had absolutely no ideas for photographs. I was going to do my LegSim profile picture, but that turned out horribly, so I quit and figured out that I had several mounds of homework [which I am going to work on gradually other than the immediate stuff] which have now been done and set aside. So I finally got a chance to open my email and, waiting there, was a brilliant idea.
Photojojo's newsletter said to take a picture of a fellow photographer - but since I had no photographers at hand, I used my dad! For some reason it had never occurred to me before to use my family members as subjects... Why? Probably because I feel pretty insecure about my photography skills and really didn't want to expose them to both a shy and non-photographically incline subject (a.k.a. my dad). Yet this picture came about, and I am quite happy about it!
It looks like all our stereotypical school pictures, just with a much more aged face. It makes me wonder - what will I look like if (and when) I ask my kids to do the same for me?
I think it should be a family tradition. Rather than taking pictures of my fellow photographers, I am going to take a yearbook style photograph of my family members as I meet them - mostly in black and white because that's the way I prefer it. Yay!
Da's age at last yearbook photo: 19
Da's age right now: 54

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Begin A New Regimen

I just started thinking about the word 'change' and I think that I would love to pursue a pretty radical one for my lifestyle [though it, sadly, does not have anything to do with the presidential inauguration...]
In an attempt to reprogram my schedule, I think I am going to test out going to bed at 9pm and waking up at 5am. That will give me 8 hours of sleep and 1.5 hours of time reapportioned from the night into the morning. The other measure that I will set for myself, however, is that I will not use that time for homework. I will use it for exercise, art, life, and other important measures.
Now, as with all grand changes, this strikes absolute paralyzing fear within me. I have never been a morning person and, currently, I am thinking of all the things that I won't be able to do [which isn't true at all actually because, as I am realizing, I really will just have that same hour transplanted over to the morning instead...] I can feel myself cringing inside as I mentally calculate that there will be darkness outside (which is similar to the night), that it will be cold (which is similar to the night), that no one will be awake (uh... duh?), and that I am going to die (probably not).
I have realized that the way of reprogramming myself really hasn't responded well to depriving myself of anything [such as my 'EAT LESS CRAP!' motto from resolutions - I have been falling off the ball this week and am desperately trying to claw myself back up] so reapportionment and addition seem to be the way to go.
I think that I will try and set myself on this grandiose schedule starting next week. On the weekdays (Monday through Friday) I will wake up at 5am and go to bed at 9pm. End of story. This will go on for 30 days in a test-J-to-see-if-she-can-win fashion. *grudging sigh* Let's get started.
Also, I heart my aloe vera plant; we cut off one of it's older limbs recently and the sap truly does heal dry skin quite well. My baby is the feature of today's photograph. Hooray!

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Inaugural Impressions

I just realized that I formatted my last post wrong... but that's ok!
I am still riding the high of excitement from yesterday and this morning. Watching the inauguration on TV was the culmination of all our expectations in one singular moment. It didn't matter that he stumbled on his oath, he was completely and totally our president. I almost started crying at multiple points - particularly when there was music [told you I was a softie...]
It was a historical moment for Americans and particularly myself today. I think I realized that I'm actually proud to be an American today. Before this day, I could savagely berate our country without a thought; there was simply no redeeming value to our deprived ignorant society. I know that Obama really doesn't change the situation of many Americans, but I believe that it is better to look forward rather than back. Optimism does not sprout easily from my thought process, but there are some days that I just want to jump for joy in the knowledge that we are humans! We are alive! [and I guess it's a lie that optimism does not breed from me - I've been trying to see the light in humanity for this year and I think yoga has allowed me to succeed]
It seems odd, now that I think about it, that my writing experiment was speaking on how "dead" people... hmm. Internal thought processes? Freud's 'ego' trying to poke out? I don't know.
The memory of this day is really unimportant, but it's one of those moments where I feel I should document every mundane smell, sound and sight that I have experienced leading up to the point so... here it goes.

The tense anticipation of the first period bell about to ring. We are standing at the door, slipping through it's magic portal, Marine and I mutual escapees. The computers failed elegantly during first period, so the time was spent watching presidential cars roll onto the Mall streets and the visions panning outward to show the 3 million or more people crowding into aisles and causeways, lawns and apartment steps in the 30 degree weather of Washington D.C.
Some believe that today was a gregarious celebration amidst an economic crisis and a wartime situation, but you couldn't tell that to the flag bearers who proudly ushered in the various historical American flags outside the Capitol Building. The Mall gushes with people and iconic scenery - I am bursting to catch a glimpse of Charlotte waving and shouting among the cheering flag-waving tide of Americans undulating over Capitol Hill.
Marine and I scoot into seats in Becker's room, eyeing the television for any sign of change. The bells are ringing with a muted awareness of this auspicious day; there is a tumult of people crowding in with smiles and laughter - and even some criticism. But today it just makes me laugh. I am ready to take on your jeers today, America, you won't catch me looking somber today!
When the speeches begin, the crowd goes silent. We are hesitant to applaud an event that crosses time zones, but the warbling of Aretha Franklin makes tears prick at my eyelids. I take a deep breath. Joe Biden, calm and collected, is inaugurated first - becoming the President for just a few minutes as they transition from Bush to Obama. One second and the halls of power are seriously rocked. No longer has he the power to wave a hand and command the troops, no longer can he make decisions and snicker them off at a press conference the next day.
Obama steps out onto his pavilion; my eyes are riveted to that calm face. He is nervous, no doubt, finding himself in the most powerful position offered in this country - and perhaps in the world. We are all shivering for him together, thinking we would "tag out" if we were him. Just let someone else be the President for this daunting oath-taking.
The speech washes over us all with the immensity that was proposed: an articulate twenty minutes passes as we wonder how we are going to solve America's problems. President Obama is no preacher, he lays out the plan with few poetics, but great elegance. We are here to change the world - and we will.
The chatter won't stop for days. We are ready to face the world, America. We have overcome.

By the way, the picture above is of a powerful speaking man at the MLK rally that I felt could have been a stand-in for Obama if he were ready to take on the political sphere. Go Nguyen!

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Enamored With Architecture

Today was an especially amazing day. So much so that I am going to post doubly to include my writing experiment and my thoughts! [and conveniently catch up on my posting schedule, muahahahaha...]
Below is my writing experiment for today, and above is a picture of an awesome building in Seattle. I am enamored with architecture these days apparently.

Can we fly away tonight?
Stare at the moon and the sun so bright,
That we catch glimpses of our faces in the strangest of places,
And believe that the mewl of the tomcat holds all of his might.

Believe me when I tell you that there was something wrong there. Please?
When I stepped into the room, there was no sound. There were no cries, no delighted hurrahs, no whole-hearted snickers or sneers – it was silent. And, also… there was no breathing.
I sucked all the air into my lungs without really thinking about it. I could hear it whistle through my head, past my sinuses, up, in and then down to my chest. I felt the air expand there – every breath was a blessing. There was something wrong there.
I didn’t take a seat, rather, a seat took me. I was tossed backwards without quite seeing my assailant. Their fish lips and wide eyes all looked so dead that I prefer to think none of them touched me. But then I wonder… what did? If it was the force of God, I don’t think I would mind. But if it were something else… well, there’s nothing I can do about it now.
The seat was hard and deep; it sucked me into an uncomfortable position that I could not escape. There were no wrist cuffs, but I felt as if I had to keep my hands level with the desk – for fear of punishment. It was just like high school. Only quieter. Everyone was staring straight ahead at the white-washed wall. I tried to turn around and see who was with me, but they all looked the same: paralyzed. I wish I could have gotten up, but there was absolutely no way.
Trust me, please trust me, when I say there was something wrong with that place.
I waited for the better part of an hour, I think, though it could have been five minutes. No one was coming. The walls began to pulsate as I stared at them, beating in and out in a firm rhythm. It matched my heart beat. Bu-bump, bu-bump.
I wasn’t scared exactly, but everything around me was… magnified. I thought I could see every freckle and hair on every arm, leg or face that was in front of me. I lost the courage to look behind. Bu-bump.
When my breathing started to disappear, that was when I knew something was seriously wrong. I was so keen on keeping my heart in my chest that I had forgotten to listen for that welcoming rush of air as it passed through my nasal cavities and into my lungs. All I could hear was bu-bump, bu-bump like the tone of an invisible war drum. I panicked and tried to gasp. I wish my lips had opened at that point.
I’m not kidding, there is seriously something wrong there! Please, please believe me…
If you don’t believe me, I think that I won’t be able to go on living. Right here and now, I will step off this balcony and fall into the empty street. I will smash my skull open and it will all be on your conscience. Do you want that? I’m sure you don’t.
I wish I could say that I fully got out of that place. But, really, it’s still there. In the back of my mind, it is floating around like a sea of jellyfish – every person in that room truly was dead. I can’t explain to you how I knew, but they just… they just…
They couldn’t feel.
When I got up to leave, yes, I got up and walked towards the door. It was perhaps the hardest thing I had to do in my life. The weight on my legs tore at my pant legs and I felt them sticking down like some sort of magnetic pull. But I concentrated. My heart beat quickened from bu-bump, bu-bump to bump-bump-bump-bump-bump-bump. I struggled and struggled to breathe. But I got up. And marched to the door.
I avoided all hands along the way. They were inconsiderate, and unhealthy. They were sprawled out over desks in an oddly symmetrical pattern – as if they were trying to say something to me. When I touched the door handle though, the room changed.
Every pair of eyes shifted to look at me. I felt the gaze of thirty, fifty, one hundred students sitting at their prim wooden desks, eyeing me. I saw them all shift slightly, hungry, their bloated expressions even larger when they were pressed in tandem to the shape of my palm. They looked at me, but what they saw was opportunity.
I left then. I couldn’t take it. I fled through the door and tried to run down the hallway, tripped, and fell. I remember seeing you walking past; I almost called out but I could barely move. I hoisted myself up and came here instead.
Believe me, please. There is something wrong there. We really have to do something about it. I don’t know what but—
What?
You can’t be serious. We can’t just tell them about it. They probably know what’s going on! What are you saying? They want those people to die! They’re already dying! I—
No… it can’t be. You’re one of them, aren’t you?
You’re clever, you know that? Tricking me into thinking… well, no more of that. Don’t tell me again. I’ll make good on my claim. I promised you that I’d walk off this rooftop and fall right here. And I’ll do it.
Goodbye.

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I Never Want to Slow Down Tonight...

As I sit here, I hear the song 'Lift Every Voice' chiming away in my head. It's a delicate song - as compared to the regular gospels that I intermittently hear - but something that I really enjoy.
I've found that the MLK rally today really inspired me. I get this way after all gatherings of people working towards peace, I think; there is just an unassailable feeling of unity amidst your fellow beings. So much of today's world is negative in nature and it just influences you to be negative as well. There is often no purpose for it, only that you are angry about the issues and your passion is misplaced rather than focused.
As I sit here, not doing my government homework and ruminating on the workings of the world, I wonder if there will be a difference in the coming years. The Obama administration will be born tomorrow, we will write essays for English class mid-week, our struggles will continue and continue again... will we see ourselves making speeches in front of thousand-sized crowds or will we find ourselves saving the world through recycling the extra milk carton after lunch? Who knows? We'll see.

Do you hear me out there, fellow human beings?
Do you hear the words that are coming out of my mouth this very second, on this special day, in this sacred place of God that we call “Earth?”
I would like to thank you all for coming out to see this moment, this delicate and transient moment that will soon slip from our fingers forever. Let us honor this moment as we would honor every great day, as we would honor every birth and every death, as we would honor the smile on a child’s face as they first learn to speak, as we would honor the tears streaming down a new bride’s face as she says “yes!”
For we are all here today, together, to learn something new. Something about ourselves that we may have forgotten in that process of growing up. That we have tossed under the rug only to find when we lift up the floorboards – let us not forget that we are here today to rediscover something lost.
But before we get into all that heavy stuff, I want you to do something for me. It’s very simple.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
How often do we just get to sit there and take a breath? Surprisingly, not very often. If we are always looking to please some higher desire, then we have forgotten one of the most important parts of giving. Ourselves.
For we cannot look upon that world “selfish” and find it’s antithesis “selfless” unless we really and truly know what that means. Every human being is selfish – and that’s ok. It’s good for the soul. When you can sit down and take some time just for yourself, then you have gotten to the root of the matter. Selflessness without grounds and limitations makes for the proliferation of falsity.
Have you ever put on airs that you want to go to a party, but once you get there, you’re miserable? That’s you being selfless. You accept what other people have decided is good for you – and then you’re lying because of it. So be selfish, ladies and gentlemen! Never give up on your true self, because without it you have nothing to give.
We have forgotten that essential part of our being. When we were kids, everything was about me, me, me. We are taught, of course, that we need to share. That we need to give. That we need to stand up and take notice of other people. And all that is AMAZING! But, every once in a while, we just need to sit back. And breathe.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
And once you know that you’ve gotten the air into your lungs, that you are looking out over the crowd and seeing your own face reflected there, then you discover: we are all human beings, breathing together. We are all here, ladies and gentlemen, to find that promised land that resides in all of our souls! We can find it, that little slice of heaven, resting right here on Earth.
Do not forget that you are always a beautiful being; do not forget that we must have something in order to give. Do not forget! We are here on this Earth to serve others, but the first person that we must serve is always, truly, ourselves.
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, and enjoy the rest of your MLK Day!

That was my version of an MLK Day speech - I was inspired by all the voices enough that I thought I would try my own.
As well, the picture is of the fabulously remodeled Garfield High School, which I think is just an amazing place because I am a loser and love classic architecture.

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More writing and stories are also available for your reading pleasure.

About Me...

In a way, I try to avoid telling people items about me for as long as I can. They can get all they want out of just looking at me, can’t they? If they have eyes in their head and a brain in their skull they can read my face to their own satisfaction. I’m “that brown-skinned girl whose kinda chubby and extremely short.” And from that information, I’m sure they can stereotype their way into my personality – “pretty crazy.” I doubt they’ll ever really get to the point.
You’re going to try to guess right here; you’re going to ask “what is the point?” in an attempt to coax it out of me. Sorry. Maybe, instead of asking, you can riddle me this. If I told you a story, would that make me a storyteller? A writer? An orator of momentous proportions? Let’s try it and see.
When I was in kindergarten, I learned that souls can collide. That best friends can really be more than that; they can feel what you’re feeling across state lines. They can hand you all the love in the world – all the love that ever wanted you.
When I was in seventh grade, I learned that I was fat and ugly. I learned that intellectual prowess and growing self-determination could all be yanked out by that one word – “weird.” You could snatch it from my head and leave me a patch of nothing, sprouting skin and blood. I learned those superficial terms we use to decide our leaders; love was only for the movies.
When I was in tenth grade, I learned to worm through space. I could struggle to replace my prison with flower fields, where “weird” turned to “crazy” and people accepted it. I learned that a terrible neediness had fallen over my entire world, and that I could not kick it away like any stray dog. I learned that eyes will be eyes and no one can tell people to see further in.
In twelfth grade, I am still learning. That “selfish” is not always a bad word and that “selfless” is not always good. I am learning to love me more.
I avoid telling people about me until they can feel it out for themselves. They have to realize that the shell is just a package, that the heart is more than muscle. Full disclosure. At that point, the points we’re making glow together.

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Goal of the Month

I was reading about forming habits [from an article that Gala Darling linked me to - so much good advice!] and I have decided that I am going to write 250 words every day for a month.
This is to get me back into writing - because no matter how crappy it is, it'll be like a 1/12th-sized 365 project [which I think that my photoblog is starting to become].
From the way I've been feeling, I think that I can definitely do that bite-sized sort of project. I've decided that it can be on any subject and in any genre that I want! However, that doesn't mean that I have to share it with you. Mwahaha... Maybe I should just stop talking and delve into it. Right here, right now.
He tapped on the window with one greasy forefinger. The lovers collided, their hands splayed out across the backseat car window. They plunged to the floor in fright, having listened anxiously for the sound of their parents’ cars driving up or the shouts of angry search parties. To them, this night held the most tension of any that had passed. Aleksandr waited. Slowly, two teenagers rose simultaneously from the dark leather seats of the Volkswagon Passat – fully clothed, a little disheveled. The girl had both bubblegum pink bra straps hanging out from beneath her hastily zipped hoodie. Her cherry blond hair was shoved to one side, straight tresses trailing into her eyes. The boy was breathing hard, his blue eyes glossed over. The boy’s eyes were slowly coming in line with his own; they looked scared, ready to bolt. All of the strong movie men had faded from his gaze, now he was just a little boy looking for an escape route. They were both holding their breath, but let it out slowly when they saw him. It was neither their parents nor a rescue team. Their eyes widened and they clutched at each other’s hands. The boy spoke first. “Hey, who are you?” Blunt. He smiled - this boy wanted to take over the situation. “Out of the car,” he said, raising his voice to a menacing growl. The lovers looked at one another; the girl brushed the hair out of her face and pulled her jacket up over her shoulders. They started to rise to a sitting position. The boy put his hand on the back of the driver’s seat, never taking his eyes off the large man standing outside his car. “Who are you?” the boy repeated. Be brave, he thought, sliding his hand out from behind his back. In the darkness, he waved something that looked like a short rod. The boy flung himself over the center aisle and seized the keys in the ignition. He brought down the metal rod onto the back window and the girl shrieked and covered her head in her hands. The car revved to life as the boy turned the key, pressing his foot to the gas pedal. He dragged the metal rod forward, pressed a button, watched the thing hum to life as the glass shattered inward. He pounded the rear window as they drove away. With a slow chuckle, he brought the metal rod down to his side, blood rushing through his veins. Off in the distance, the car had turned onto a main road, its headlights finally winking on as the boy thought they had gone far enough. In the artificial light, he saw his handiwork. On the side of the car, where the tip of the rod had hit, a glinting glass orb had worked its way into the metal. He smiled. Then, as quick as he’d come, he disappeared into the night.
That's actually 490 words according to Word... but whatever! 250+ words is what I'm working towards!
Also, the picture is of a chicken hat [yes, it has a headband attached to its waist] that was used to advertise Audience Participation, a show I directed and acted in last year. It has been born anew in my search for interesting photographic moments - this time, involving shadows. I hope no one finds out how lame this setup looks in real life (and no, I'm not going to tell you what I used to make it look like the chicken's shadow was stabbing it's body; that would just ruin the effect) That thing is seriously the creepiest item ever. Especially in black and white. Ever.

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Rhyming in Effort to Make Things Right

In essence, it was all a mistake,
This life that you live and the choices you make;
They rend you asunder, find no other stake,
In the ground where the foliage even greenness must fake.

I believed it too, I did.
On that axis where evil would place every bid,
Where the betters were betters, their ends just more ends,
And no queen in the kingdom could say where she sends,
Those mystery debtors, cast away every sprawl,
But who - even losing - have the essence to crawl,
Towards the highest mountain and lowest dale,
And, essentially, there mark their reasons to fail.

So, for better or worse, in this story we sigh,
Telling ourselves there's no reason to cry;
There's no reason to panic, no reason to shout,
For that is one possibility we can simply rule out.
But for all the misfortune, all that I dread,
It still seems quite easy to avouch to my head,
That nugget of doubt that may seize someone whole -
As a man in the swamp drowns in more than his toll.

Let me live in this lifetime, let me live without shame;
For you, your eyes, wander in effort to maim,
The quiet self-confidence that I've come to blame,
For teaching me now that I'm worth just the same.

[I felt like I needed to rhyme to express my frustrations - so I did.]
[The photo is of Heathy's cow toy reading National Geographic with my dad's glasses. I think I might do a series of interesting objects around my house; it just felt boring to do them as just things (like the tiger bobblehead yesterday) so I thought I'd try setting them up in situations. Hooray.]

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More poetry is also available for your perusal.

Coming Home - John Legend

The messages from The Universe really keep me going.
I get them in my email and I think that everyone else should too - because they're just alternative to what you often hear with the little "words of wisdom" you see once in a while and just stop believing. Today the message was:

'See through the fog that tells others nothing matters, nothing is happening,
and it does no good.
They realize not, Jordan, that every second of history... was optional.

Burning down the house,
The Universe'

It makes me appreciate that all of these things are present. It makes me feel a little rebellious. And it makes me feel like whatever I am doing now, regardless of how difficult it may be, is definitely mine.
Thank you messages from The Universe. I am going to shamelessly plug you right here so that everyone can have a little laugh or a little thoughtfulness at your awesome new advice.
TUTs Adventurers Club

(By the way, nobody will know, but I was practicing shutter speed timing with my little bobblehead tiger that my friend in South Korea sent me a really long time ago - it was bobbling away as I snapped this shot - sweet, huh?)

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Drained & Lonely

It seems pretty random to me that the hot chocolate box makes specifically 39 servings. Why not 40? Or 38? Or 27? [mine actually probably did only make 27 or less, because I always add WAYYY too much powder to make it super thick]
On another, probably more important note, today was the first day of physical rehearsal for Speak. I need to find a way that people will listen to me that won't make me an extremely harsh person or lose my voice to yelling. That is the rub, isn't it? Oh well, people are having fun.
I took a nap today. It felt so good to actually get a little extra sleep... I think that my thoughts are still surfing in that mode right now because right after I put up this post I am going to climb into bed.
In a weird lucid way, I am really wondering about my future as a person. I mean, I love to do a lot of things and I want to explore a lot of different experiences and roles and whatever else; I feel like I am pent-up but at the same time not doing enough. I want to go to college and be selfish, because it really is a selfish thing to pursue exactly what you want. It's not a bad selfish. You just indulge in yourself and make everything worthwhile for you. Perhaps I am just fluff-coating it.
I don't really know what I'm saying sometimes. I think of college as a glittering metropolis of people and activities and, in a way, that was true of our summer experience. But the worries are getting to me nowadays. I just can't understand that soon enough I will never see these people again [or at least until I come for vacation, which seems really not like 'seeing' them as I do these days]. I am starting to feel really lonely and needy all the time for some random reason [Mercury is apparently in retrograde, I'm sure I could blame this on planetary alignment]. And I'm feeling hypocritical too. And unproductive.
And on top of this, I now realize that I am super critical of myself. Funny, right? I'm criticizing my hyper-critical attitude.
This is really all about me getting myself out to myself - because if I don't say it now then it's going to come out in shouting matches or axe murders or some other method of hurting people in between those two extremes. I need yoga. And sleep.
Maybe my container has exactly 39 servings and I am teetering on the edge of 37 1/2.

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Scrubs Sentimentality

I am such a softie. I can't even tell you - I just watched a really sappy episode of Scrubs where Elliot and J.D. just got back together and I am now like "why can't I have a relationship like that?" even after watching their entire roller coaster up and down of relationship problems. Anyway.
Other than my slightly sad TV addiction to that series, today was pretty interesting. They beat the energy out of me yesterday, but through theater I have regained it today. I was very pleased with our first read-through of the Speak script and am totally pumped to start working (I think that with all the basic blocking down at least I can start to be interpretive) People are always going to have scheduling issues so I think that the way I'm going to handle it is that if you're not at rehearsal, then we are going to put a stand-in there for you and you're just going to have to learn the blocking. I know that doesn't sound good, but I think that's the best way [at least as long as you're not learning gobs and gobs of lines]. I just have to keep myself extremely organized and together.
As well, during Extended Essay presentations tonight, I was a theater speaker and people told me I did pretty well [strangely, my dad was the most critical of me - I was also very hard on myself because I think I can do better, but other than that people were like hooray!]
Dang... I just realized that I changed out of one of my favorite formal outfits - I should have taken a picture! *is debating whether she should go jump back into it so that she can get a shot for today* Yeah, I think I'm going to go do that. One second. (I am feeling totally vain, but I like the idea of a fashion journal and my somewhat new philosophy for this year is that you should really invest in loving yourself - I am always fixated on faults so I can never truly feel like I'm up to standard: why not just give myself a break and let me be silly and crazy just as it is? I must sound like a babbler [there it is again... those stupid multiple voices])
Ok, I'm back, and with a pretty cool shot! (I am an idiot though, I just spent an hour using different poses and then found my favorite one by just doing the typical "face it at you and shoot" thing... oh well, a little less sleep won't kill me)
Anyway, enjoy my neck and little aluminum heart in my beautiful orange sweater - I would have gotten the sweet gold boots and the black pants, but they would just distract from the shot.

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Pure Emotion

Paint with the wind. I don't want to talk about today, I don't want to talk about tomorrow, I don't want to talk about the past or the present or the future. All I want to talk about is you.
Call it conceited, call it a 'burst of passion,' call it what you will but I want to find you stroking the sheets so that we can play our dangerous game. So that we can forget our names and remember that we are only children, playing in the attic and wondering how we came to be.
Let's make it happen.
I don't want to sit down or stand up, I want to sprawl - I want to fly across paint-splattered walls and divulge myself to the greatest power I have yet found on Earth. Is that you? It could be. For I have fallen amoureuse, headlong into the soft undercurrent of your heartbeat. Is that you? Ticking away at my heartstrings, bearing down with kisses on my succulent nape. It could be the victim in me, but I want you to draw blood. Perhaps then you would understand.
I don't want to talk about me, I want to talk about you.
Let's find you in the open landscape of blue crepe and feathers; the down blanket that you spread over us both has everything to do with your fair skin. Bring yourself to me, I want the challenge. I can say no or send you away but, for all eventualities, I have heard that you are one smooth talker and perhaps there is a liability issue at stake.
Let's find ourselves between powder blue sheets with nothing but our first names. Then maybe we'll have won.

(I don't want to have to think about anything today - I have spent my anger through venting and I have spent my tears. I want to fall in love with someone who will support me on my journey to find me, and maybe find themself in the spaces between. Right now, I am in the checkout line, waiting for the cashier to ring me up and send me on my way; out to the great blue yonder where I might cast my lot in another betting pool. Soon I will be saved, soon I will be saved, soon I will be saved. I am not a realist, nor an optimist, but pessimism has recently gotten me down. I turn off the newscast and forget that people exist.)

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L'Etudiante

Today the workhorses trampled me.
Last night I finally realized that I was awake and that I could work, and so I stayed up and finished la plupart de mes devoirs and then was able today to finish up some crucial elements of Speak. I think that the vision will come together quite nicely, despite the difficulties in timing and etc.
I think yesterday je trouve que le monde est imparfait, et il n'y a rien de faire pour ameliorer la situation. Tous les personnes qui sont mortes, sont mortes. It is impossible to really bring them back or anything - so we must preserve the lives that exist right now. That is sincerely what I believe and I hope that we come out of this torrid time with everyone still dans la vie de la soleil et de Dieu.
This is actually how I hear myself in my head.
Today I did a little photoshoot with my cat, and I didn't know which picture to pick as the best, so I am putting two. Yesterday's cat was Abby, in my dad's arms, and then today's cat is Belle, who is obviously a model. Seriously. [she has way more class than I do... and speaks French! *le sigh*]

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This Day In History

This day in history is really of no consequence to anyone. As one grain of sand in the desert sprawl of time, this day is just another dry reminder that we are not really present here for long. I feel the tears rush up for all those that close their eyes for the last time today. They will not suffer any longer; they will be delivered up to Allah with all his graces and mercy. We are blessed in our lives and cannot forget that. When they are gone, we must cherish the space they made in this world, even though they are inconsequential in the instance.
I cherish my family and what I believe to be mine - my beautiful friends and lovely animals. Most of all, I cherish myself. Let the dead rest with their loved ones, and may their souls be preserved regardless of race, religion, gender, or orientation.
I will close my eyes tonight with the feeling of you in my heart.

Today was a hard day for photography.

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Wah!

So I couldn't possibly post anything yesterday because I was burning the midnight oil just trying to get everything finished. Auditions for Speak went extremely well, and we got all the characters that we could hope for - including some interesting teachers that I would not have thought about. Thursday was The Day of Final Cast Lists so I got that down and finished up some more of the scene layouts, which will help me out a lot once these things get really started.
I am extremely tired today.
I was thinking about going to bed right when I got home at 4pm because of it, but then I palled around with my guys and Sophia and got even MORE tired... it was fun though, wouldn't have missed our crazy discussions about religion and anger and babies for the world (though I'm now creeped out by thinking about our downstairs being completely a den for horror novels/movies...)

And now, for the Things I Want to Do List: Weekend Edition!
- Edit & turn in JFK essay tomorrow
- Make a pop-up flash diffuser
- Watch a movie
- Finish homework early

I know, I know... the picture above is from a few days ago - but I am way too tired to start snapping new shots right now. It's of a box that I decoupaged [accent aigu over the 'e'] after a failed painting experiment. My light box and old desk lamp actually did pretty well to get the shot - but this was before I learned more about ISO so the picture is somewhat grainy.

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Drown

I wish I could read more books. I don't have as much time now that school's begun again and I am running around trying to finish things - I probably have to make time, but it's halfway through the first week back and I can't completely handle the adjustment yet.
I got to hang with the chicks and audition people I hadn't even thought about in the middle of class and Crossroads [hooray! fresh meat!]. I somewhat broke my resolution by eating non-fat yogurt vanilla ice cream today, but I justify myself in that I am not eating total crap [lame? probably. but's it's an adjustment] We went back to Sophia's house and that's where this picture is set. Dual top-knots: so cute!

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Auditions & Concessions

I was pleased with today.
Just pleased, there were some metaphorical 'hiccups' that just made me want to scream, but other than that I think it was a fairly awesome day. I shook off the morning drowsiness by rote, was not gut-wrenchingly hungry in the afternoon, and got Speak rolling on a good note. Granted, I am going to bed as soon as I put up this post.
Today we held the first auditions for Speak and 12 people showed up, with more interested on the way. I think that it's going to be great, because there are so many qualified actors - people I hadn't even thought about were coming out in spades! It was amazing. I hope to get a cast of 30, ranging from REALLY HUGE parts [Melinda] to verrrryyyy tiny parts [Students & Cheerleaders]. There is sort of a disparity in lines between the two, but I think it will work out. Directing just feels so much more natural to me - I have been acting as Hermia and I love it, there's no doubt, but I just feel powerful and beautiful when directing in a way that acting just can't give me. I love it.
The rotten core of today, however, is that the administration is cancelling our January activities [assembly and dance - why? I ask this many times but there seems to be no reason... why would having a dance on Saturday affect the length of time that we're in school?] And, even more than that, they're moving graduation over to the 22nd of June! It makes me want to spit. I would willingly accept Saturday school for 5 days instead - I want the time to prepare for my IB exams! But having 5 days come in at the end is just pointless. I will be probably watching movies in every class and not learning anything. It just frustrates me that they didn't even consult what the students may want.
Ah, but I guess there's nothing to do about it now. We will march on, with our feet in the trenches, plowing throught the International Baccalaureate diploma and snatching up our high school graduation along the way. We will not be silenced! I am glad, at least, that they didn't take away the senior party on top of everything. That would just completely suck.
Anyway, the picture above is of the famed yellow bag of the last post, and the other gifts that Heathy sent me - which are body butter and some soap [I hope she's not trying to tell me something... haha] I found a new website, www.diyphotography.net, and was reading a lot of their articles - three of which were titled "Back to Basics" and really explained the relation of shutter speed, ISO, and aperture width to me. I played around with those a lot. I think also that, in lieu of an external flash or the money to buy one, this desk lamp really helps me light difficult objects without expending the quality. Hooray creative solutions!

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School. That's It.

I wasn't expecting to go to school this morning. I didn't set an alarm, didn't think about my game plan, and didn't fall asleep at 10pm. There was 2 inches of snow on the ground and a gust of it blowing in by the time I fell asleep. But, alas, the morning came and the rain washed the snow into slush. It was time.
The return to school today wasn't altogether bad - I got to get my scholarship stuff done in a timely fashion and I learned a bit of what I should have already known... it was just that my eyes barely stayed open and I was having distinct cravings for unhealthy food. You ever realized that work/stress, when immediate, makes you feel like you're more hungry and tired than you actually are? Trust me, it's no joke.
During yoga today [yay, I finally went back!] I learned that a lot of stress just comes from thought-energy that is being overworked and chewed to death. I don't know if it's possible right now, but I hope that I can turn around my thought process in some way so that I don't worry so much about everything (I am a notorious over-thinker who frets about both past and future *sigh*)
The picture above is somewhat of the visual representation of my frantic nature today - which was only resolved later after realizing that Heathy knows me frighteningly well. [She bought me a large yellow bag filled with random yarn! I must be a little kid who plays with the box more than the items, because I love that big hobo bag. (yes, it's literally called the Slouchy Hobo)]
This means war. A war of present-giving. *epic music*

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Yippee!

It was late, the night was young... my head was filled with grand ideas and my veins were pumped with caffeine. I set down the glossy-covered book with Bill Richardson's smiling chubby face and began to type - slowly, at first, but then more frantically. Soon, a whirlwind of words were pouring out of me, the pages filled at an alarming rate. Sweat gathered in my underarms, but I was too focused to care; when my father yelled 'Go to bed!' I promptly ignored him and stuck my nose between the pages, desperate to find one last quote. And then - it was done.
That is the story of my almost all-nighter. I was all set to be writing my JFK scholarship essay today, but instead I just stayed up a few extra hours and praised Bill Richardson until 2am. Then I crashed, tired and happy, until this morning. It was so great to be able to wake up, laze about, and not have to worry about essays, homework, or anything else [although I probably should be doing some line memorization or something... ah well] So today I basically compiled all the loose ends that needed tying up and did them really fast, then went and did my own thing.
And today, my own thing meant making... a light box.
I had grown increasingly fed up with trying to get good natural light and/or the flash for my DSLR to come out well, so finally I just grabbed a box and cut holes in it as per the tutorial on Photojojo [hooray!] Now I have a functioning light box, complete with lamp - my main problem is that I now have to find a way to evenly light it.
The picture above is of a mirror that I decoupaged [accent aigu over the 'e'] for my Italian penpal as a New Year's gift [I hope you like it, Chiara!] I took lots of other pictures today because I took some "me time" but this was my favorite.

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Working for the Weekend...

So, although I didn't post anything yesterday, I am counting my double post on January 1st as that one [I haven't broken my resolution, so there.] This will be brief, because I don't feel very interesting today, only tired and stressed out although I am just finishing vacation [bizarre, right?].
Yesterday was a whirlwind of shopping and selling - although I didn't get much for my clothes and mostly donated (the picture above is of me toting my two huge garbage bags of clothing; it wasn't a very good expression so I cropped it to catch my trippy shirt, haha]
I am mainly happy that we are returning to school. I get to start things that I just couldn't do otherwise, and may even take a break from scholarship work. That is what I am going to be pounding into myself for tonight and tomorrow: writing that final January scholarship essay. It seemed so easy when I was just thinking about college, the elation that I felt at being accepted to Barnard, but now... now the road has gotten tough. I guess I have to put into effect that saying then ["when the road gets tough, the tough get going," although I don't know if anyone says that anymore...]

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Camera Play

So... today I was going to work. I was going to work on essays, homework, projects, memorization... but then I fell asleep. I got about 115 pages into Bill Richardson's autobiography [yay!] but realized that Indian food and going to bed at 3am make you exceedingly tired. So I took a half hour nap, woke up, and suddenly didn't want to work anymore. Instead, I talked to Heathy about news headlines and played around with my camera [and finally read the manual - who knew there was such good information in there?] which, consequently, produced this image. I finally know what Av means! [Aperture value] and have been testing it to make the background blurry for my self portrait [which features a scarf that's normally tied around the knob of my drawer] So, I give you, Jan. 2! Except not really, because I realized it's actually still Jan. 1 even though it feels like a day ago when I put up the last picture. Ehehe...

Oh, and here was the best scenic memory of the day!
*on the phone with Heathy*
Heathy: It was funny because I saw the lights flashing 2 miles away about 2 minutes ago and was thinking 'someone's speeding!'
Heathy's Mom (in the background): Yeah, I saw a cop car just drive past.
Me: What if the cop was speeding?
Heathy: *laughter* Fred, I saw you... Darn it. Or it could be like, before the slip of paper is sent out, a guy standing next to the copier, uh printer! And someone comes in and is like 'what are you doing?' 'nothing...' '*picks up ticket* is this you?' 'maybe.... *backs away slowly*'
Me: Ah, the crazy cops speeding paradox...
Heathy: I think we could have a 5 minute TV show every day.
Me: Yeah, like a minute long Youtube video!
Heathy: Yeah, that'd be awesome!

That it would, Heathy, that it would. Maybe if we ever decide to make our show, this will be our first script. You never know...

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