Vitamin_D's Xanga

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 04:39:16 GMT

" 'Don't worry,' he chuckled. 'I hardly blame you for what your father did. Especially after what Xejen told me about you and he.' His mirth faded, and he became serious. 'A lot of men I'd known died in that battle. I was lucky to get out alive.' He was silent for a moment, and when he continued his tone was resigned. 'But that's the way of it as a soldier. Friends die. Battles are won and lost. I do the best for myself and my men, but in the end, I'm just one part in thousands. A muscle. It's the brain that directs us all. It's those higher up who take the responsibility for a massacre like that. Songmaga was a fool, and your father was treacherous. And many people were killed for both of them.' "

-pg. 520, The Braided Path by Chris Wooding

    Today is November 11th, dubbed as Remembrance Day here in Canada.
    I wish I could say something but truly, I do not have anything of significance. I have never fought in a war. I do not have any knowledge about firearms than the fact bullets kill. I don't even have a driver's license so I cannot operate a regular car, much less a hulking beige tank.

    To me, war is a far, far away occurrence in a foreign country unrelated to Canada. It is a game of politics with serrated blades. It's a lose-lose situation. It's about power and might. Slogans about freedom and certain religious beliefs are toted to encourage fighting. Each side believes they are right and the opposition is wrong. Death is constant and in the attempt to protect fragile mentalities, live is devalued or ignored. Tears are shed and it never ends. It never stops. Every so often, war journalists risk their lives to take pictures, immortalized minutes, to send back home and encourage more overzealous bodies to throw themselves into the fray. The rest stays home, sits on their self-righteous ass and wrap the survivors in glamour and adoration. The survivors want to erase their memories.
    I have never experienced anything of the like and I cannot say anything on their behalf. What I know is regurgitated from secondary sources and assumptions. I'm not a soldier. I have no say. Yet, when I hear about other people going on and on about how great these people were in tones of whispered awe, I want to slap them. They are distant enough to objectify it. It isn't real to them. We bow our heads down for a silent minute because we're told to. We're spoiled. We're privileged. We're cushioned. We don't actually know what it's like to be in those situations. We don't know any of the names carved in those memorial monuments. Maybe someone has an ancestor or two lurking through them but no one (not anyone I know anyway) can claim to have met them in person.

"Life's better, sounder, when we don't brood unnecessarily on horrors. As you know, human history is full of evil deeds, and maybe we ought to think of them with tears, not fascination."

- pg. 46-47, The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova

    Felted red poppy pins are handed out. I stare at the blood-red hue and nothing sparks within. I don't feel anything because I haven't done anything to recognize the significance. I am pretty damn lucky to live in a sheltered home with a country who takes everything for granted. Following the trend, I take it for granted myself. I don't think anyone can go on and on in boasting, solemn speeches unless they themselves have been in any part of war. Otherwise, I will tune them out. I am an intellectual. I can think about it, piece together theories but down to the nitty gritty fighting and instinct for survival, I would be a joke. I am not a warrior. I am not a soldier. I have experienced rage and violence but it does not compare to fueled hatred and accepted death.
    It's all heralded because someone refuses to acknowledge it was all for naught. What if it was? What if it was all for nothing? Only greedy people at the top of the food chain, playing their little games and politics, aiming to get the maximum for the only number one in their world: themselves.
    No one is worth it except the survivors.

    Every so often, I am reminded how lucky I am... because, I am.

" 'After that, I said I was done with soldiering,' he went on. 'But soldiering wasn't done with me, I suppose. Thirty years and more I've spend fighting other men's wars, sitting round fires with people and not knowing whether they'll be alive in the morning, living in tents and marching all over Saramyr. I may not sound like much, but it's hard to give up. There's a feeling between fighting men, a bond like you can't imagine that doesn't exist anywhere else. I tried to settle, but it's too late for me; I'm a soldier in the blood now.' "

-pg. 520, The Braided Path by Chris Wooding

Today is November 11th, Remembrance Day and it is all I can say.

Monday, November 09, 2009

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 06:59:49 GMT

My Hallowe'en - clubbing

Lollipop (Chicken Little) & I

Dee & Sangarita (some football player - Ricky? Bush)

Spikes were goddamn dangerous and annoying.

edit -

Me right now. Fuck. -_-*

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 04:32:49 GMT

" 'Have you not learned by now that they are the same?' She said. 'Did Hry not teach you that as it is above, so it is below? Death without life is hollow and cruel, and life without death an empty mockery. All things must be in their time, in their course. For an old man to die when his time has come is not evil. You know that.' "

- pg. 341, Black Ships by Jo Graham

    Is it just I or does time feel it has slowed down to the finite snapshot of every ticking sand?
    I'm procrastinating as usual, fluttering back and forth between my room where my scattered textbooks, pens and notebook lies and to the living room where the blinking glow of the computer monitor remains stagnant. I go over my agenda and the dates. I count off the lines. I feel trapped and bored. Listless.
    There is a lot I want to complete but bound by a mental starightjacket, I concede I do have time left to my lifeline. Where is the source of this rushed feeling? Speed speed speed. What am I suppose to attain?

transitional phase

Yesterday, I changed my research paper topic with it due in less than a week. Very dumb of me but the previous one I challenged myself with was too vast. Seeking specific information amongst the sea of it all left me floundering and lost, especially when I choose not to rely on the internet. (I do not trust the internet for sources to write into my papers. I may use it read up for general information but in the end, I end up amongst dusty tomes.) So... I changed it.

Previous topic:

Theatre at Epidauros

-vs-

Colosseum (Flavian Amphitheatre)

Muddling through murky architecture jargon and dry ancient floorplans, I gave up looking for anything significant about their hisotrical context. I'd find a snippet here or there but obviously they didn't amount to a paper I could ream on and on with.

Current choice (my backup):

Menkaure and Khamerernebty

-vs-

Sarcophagus with Reclining Couple

Befuddled and all turned around - that is what I am.

Online search engines are always your friend: what is the format of a compare and contrast essay?

- helpful website 1
- helpful website 2
- helpful website 3

be still for a little while

    I know I'm one to be bored easily. I also know the state of boredom is based upon how much one can occupy themselves. The world isn't out to entertain or amuse me. It is not at my beck and call like a ridiculous court jester. I am the one to allow myself to be drawn in and frolick with the rest. I can choose to join the festivities or stand aside and gaze impassively.
    Like attracts like. In the past, I hung out with similiar listless individuals, ghostly impressions of their true selves. They disdained and mocked the happy people, yet drawn to their movements and joy. Every so often, something breaks through and I laughed out loud with the rest of them. I looked over my shoulder and saw the rest of them mimicking the majority half-heartedly. They still said the same dreaded sentence: "I'm boooooored." Why the fuck are you still bored? If you're bored, why don't you leave? Why are you still here? Why don't you find something which doesn't bore you?
    It doesn't happen that way. Instead, they remain, hollow and stale, waiting for someone else to pique their interest and motivate them.
    After this, I decided to refrain from saying, "I'm bored." I am always active and doing something. If I can't think of anything and an answer is still demanded, I tend to end up with, "I'm good./I'm okay." Or maybe an inane answer, "I'm breathing/reading a book/standing in the kitchen." I'm not dead.
    The state of boredom can only be resolved by one person.

I tend to keep myself busy. I seek for projects or something to occupy myself. But I'm also told it's okay to be bored once in a while. It's okay to allow myself fallow time where I do nothing at all. When was the last time I had this? I don't know what to do with time off nowadays. It's a foreign concept. I'm attached to my agenda with something jotted down every single day. One week in. One week out.
It's no wonder I feel time passes by very quickly yet I do not recall the time spent.

blurred

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 05:06:00 GMT

Why is everyone around me getting sick?!

They're being picked off like flies!

1. Midget and Lollipop are knocked down although Midget is a lot more serious than Lollipop's condition. Midget is feeling nauseous and achy. She doesn't want to move and a fever has set in. She's been tearing up since 5pm - must be her body trying to flush her systems out. I'm concerned but I don't want to get sick either.

2. Midget's brother was sick first, lying in bed for three days. I don't know why Midget wouldn't think she'd contract it from him but I have noticed how pale and tired she looks lately. Maybe it was eventual. But with both of them down and out for the count, Midget has only one brother left to walk Cubby all the time... which isn't going to happen. Her brothers may be responsible but majority of the dog-caring is thrown on Midget. I will have to remember to make the effort to walk Cubby while Midget's sick. The bigger the dog, the more exercise they need..... and Cubby is a big ol' butthead.

3. Brother dearest bought a couple books.... I discovered them two days ago, wondering curiously if he was actually going to bother. He didn't. Instead, he gave it to me. He probably intended to give it to one of his guys/minions to follow up on it but now they remain on our living room table. The two books are: The Art of War by Sun Tzu, translated by Thomas Cleary (interested in) and Rich Dad Poor Dad by Robert T. Kiyosaki (not so interested in).

4. My kitchen reeks of raw and cooked salmon. Yesterday, my brother went fishing on his buddy's dad's boat and came home with a couple black garbage bags full. Ick. It looks like there will be salmon steak and salmon-related dishes for a while. I'm not exactly looking forward to that. Mom also injured her pinky, accidentally cutting it while prepping the fish to be frozen and stored. We have a hude metal bowl of fish eggs too. Goddamn. One of my brother's friends cut up some sashimi but I declined. I'm not a huge fan of raw fish.

5. Walking to Dressew for some plastic spiked bracelets and white fabric for my costume, I came across this intriguing swordplay place. It even had the umbrella self-defense workshop I remember vaguely from the radio a several weeks ago. It stood out in my mind. I considered trying it out but I don't usually carry an umbrella on me, much less the proper long ones with a hook. *shrug* But I did note on their front page they do host birthday parties. Guess who is going to have her 24th birthday party at a swordplay training hall? Hehehehe... It's awesome. In roughly 7-8 months, I'm going to celebrate with sword-fighting lessons during the day and improv shows on Granville Island at night. I cannot wait!

6. Meandering through the swordplay website and chatting with Wang on the phone, I decided to look up any ninjutsu training available in Vancouver. There is one: Vancouver Bujinkan Ninjutsu. However, it appears they are trying to cement a permanent dojo location for them to train regularly. The phone number provided looks like a cellphone number. Sifting through the website, I also learnt previous martial art experience would hamper one's learning abilities. This sidenote is a put-off. Le sigh. It looks like Dee will not be a ninja, not even temporarily.

It's all good.

However, I would like to master Shurikenjutsu - throwing shuriken, either the long, thin daggers or the star versions.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 19:23:18 GMT

inner instinct

    In my Art History course, we have moved from prehistory > ancient Mesopotamia/Sumer > ancient Egypt > Classical Greek periods > Estruscans (Italy) and now we've landed in Roman art, swaying through history with the Western Rome and the Byzantine Empire. It runs into a lot of Christianity, thought at the time to be a pagan cult. I'm a little antsy about this and as much as I prefer to block it out, I know I need to learn the stories and the symbolism drenched within the artworks to understand the historical context and what people possibly experience.

    ....
    Maybe it's my minor brushings with this religion. I've felt I've connected a stigma to the words "Christian" or "Catholic" or "Protestant" or whatever they may be called. It's the same to me even though I know there are differences of interpretation. There is a person named Jesus in each one, someone named Mary and supposedly only one God with a lot of archangels, angels, saints and what-have-you. There's an Old Testament and a New Testament. I do not begrudge anyone their religion except I cannot help but be a little wary since I don't know if someone will zealously stuff their beliefs down my throat or perceive any murmurings of tolerance to be blasphemy. Of course, it helps to know everyone isn't a religious nut but the trick is identifying which ones are which.
    I don't want to be fed a lot of propaganda in hopes of "winning" me over to the "right" side of heaven... if there is a heaven. I have a spiritual side I nurture but I don't feel I believe in any one deity, god or goddess. I follow my mother's celebrations and practices but this is to present myself as a good daughter. I truly don't know if it came down to it, do I believe there is a different plane my ghost (if it exists) goes to?
    Ugh.
    I'm getting to the slightly messy part of Art History and I'm trying to remain somewhat objective about it. In the most simplistic formats, they are epic tales of times long gone and no one is exactly sure if any of it is true. Maybe an event happened and it blew itself out of proportion as time passed but that's about it. The Jesus figure in the early beginning art is nothing like today's. The motivation behind the changes are all about the Emperor trying to win over the Western side of Rome... and it feels almost silly to recount the numerous times someone preached to me about the holy and divine. The routination is always the same line: this guy sacrificed himself for everyone. It's the big theme. The early artworks show him as a clean-shaven shepard with no divine light in him, approachable and one with nature. He is not a judge. He is a teacher. He is possibly in his twenties. He emanates compassion.
    Then it gets a little turned around to show nothing but power and judgment. To give authority to whoever happens to be ruling at the time: the emperor. He aged. Someone attached a beard on him. He is more distant. He looms on ceiling to give the feeling of power. He is a judge now, inspiring fear and condemning everyone despite the fact he sacrificed himself already for everyone. Can he do it again? I have no clue. B-b-but... argh. I cannot skip the entire section on Rome. This will be on the Final Exam.
    ....

    Ah. Fuck it. Whatever. Politics suck shit. Ancient politics suck even more. My brain is going to explode.
    I have to get back to my schoolwork, but I leave one thought:

    " 'I think you put too much stock in your gods, Kaiku,' he said. 'Some people mistake their own courage for the will of their deities, and others use their faith as an excuse to do evil. Be careful, Kaiku. What your heart dictates and what your gods tell you may one day be in opposition.' "

- pg. 405, The Braided Path by Chris Wooding

What does your heart dictate?

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 00:57:56 GMT

"Kaiku noted Nomoru's own tattoos on her arms as her sleeves fell back: intricate, jagged shapes and spirals, intertwining through emblems and pictograms symbolic of allegiances or debts owed and honoured. It was the tradition of the beggars, thieves and other low folk of the poor Quarter in Axekami to ink their history onto their skin; in that way, promises made could not be broken. In poverty, need drove them to perform services for each other, a community of necessity. Mostly, their word was their bond; but occasionally, for more important matters, something greater was required. A tattoo was an outward display of their undertaking. Usually it was left half-drawn, and finished when the task was done. The Inkers of the Poor Quarter knew all faces and all debts, and they would only complete a tattoo once they had word the task had been fulfilled. An oathbreaker would soon be exposed, and they would not survive long when others refused to aid them.
How strange, Kaiku thought, that the need for honour increased as money and possessions decreased."

- pg. 412-413, The Braided Path by Chris Wooding

    From roughly 3:15pm or so 'til this current time, I've been texting back and forth with Rah King and it's mostly arguing about him. It started out harmless where I sent a mass text message about being incredibly full - yummy, yummy, I have food in my tummy. He replied with a teasing phrase about "how could I" eat without him. This is apparently enough to set off my rocker and I called him out on it. I called him a flaker who refuses to leave Richmond and after that, it may have escalated. I'm pretty brutal when I want to get my point through but Rah King is very much like an old dog who doesn't learn new tricks. So, I called it off, wishing to keep the peace... because it probably wouldn't do well if I cut off another person within the last three months. I toned it down but I know I'm still pretty brutal. My only hope is he doesn't end up ignoring me and take up some ridiculous course/class unsuitable for his instinctive nature.
    I'm calming down now but he irritated me. I cannot abide fools well, especially on a bad day. Good days, I'll humour them, but otherwise, it does get to me. It's arrogant of me to say so but for certain individuals, I can tell when I'm automatically made of sterner material than them. I cannot blame them since each person has separate lives and do not know what the other person goes through or how they cope with it. But I have to admit if I have a stronger spirit/personality than someone else. It's a fact. Some people are like that.

    What pushes me more is the fact he's trying to brush it all off. Rah King thinks something has gotten into me and wonders where this poor image of him developed. I can understand where it may be a little out of the blue for him but that's only because I hold it in. It's minor and it doesn't truly affect my life in a drastic way at all. But putting me off for six hours to make a decision when it's an impromptu get-together to go eat is ridiculous. I understand time management and all but it's a small get-together. Who the hell needs to be book in advance for that? Instead of declining and saying no out-right, he hems and haws and wastes my entire day. I even had Wang on hold for the same amount of time. It's stupid.... and I'm told, "That's Rah King for you. It's why we don't bother." What the hell?! So why does he whine we don't invite him? Because it's pointless to do so. If it fits his standards and parameters, we do. Otherwise, we don't.

    The real kicker: Because I'm a nice person means I cannot be a bitch. It's a foreign brainwash, as if the devil possessed me.
    I am merely more tolerant than some but it's expected there's only a level of bullshit I'm willing to put up with. After that, I am entitled to have more than one personality. No d'oh, dipshits. I'm not easily taken advantage of although it happens. Only because I allow it. The key difference. Whether I give permission or not. Otherwise, shit is going to hit the fan and most of it will be coming from me.
    Why the hell do people keep thinking I'm a nice person?! Hello?! I'm human. I experience the same range of emotions as the next relatively stable individual.

    People should learn not to piss me off. If they can't avoid that, they should learn if I'm truly pissed off and I let them know it, I'm serious. Otherwise, I'd maintain a facade until I get into the dojo. There's no point in making a mountain out of a molehill. Minor bits and pieces are a waste of my energy and only provide fodder for my training. Leave me alone.

Lesson of the day: Learn when to push me and when to fuck off because I truly think I'm better than you.
I don't know everything. I don't claim to be the smartest nor the strongest nor the fastest.
But I know when I'm better than you. I train to look for that and whether I want to take the risks.
I will cut you down to size. Leave me the fuck alone.

(Thank goodness the ones I'm loyal to know this. Otherwise, it causes holy hell within me.)

Sometimes, the truth can cut you just like the cold.

Go cry me a river.

/rant

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 03:19:39 GMT

this & that -

1. Tonight, I received figachewy's letter from Korea! Yay! (Don't worry, buddy. I didn't mind your messy handwriting.) *thumbs up*

2. My right palm feels tingly and sore. I can't aleviate the pain. I think, in karate tonight, when I blocked someone's kick, the leg/foot/knee hit a pressure point. I can't shake it off!

3. After class and a whole slew of traveling, I ended up in Chinatown for dim sum and shopping with friends. We've located a deep blue cheong sam dress for my costume and it only costed $35 (+ tax). Yay! My budget for it was $50. I can't get the slits altered to thigh-high because the zipper is in the way but I can use it for special occasions when I'm out with Mother. It's not the exact design of Chun Li's dress but it's the best I can do with only five days to spare. (Midterms and school comes first. Screw looking for the exact replicas.) I bought pearl earrings at work. All I have to do is gather the spiked bracelets, white fabric for the bao bao on my head and white boots. Since the dress isn't an exact replica, I'm not too worried about the boots look as long as they are white and tall. Bleh.
Tomorrow, I'm hitting up Value Village for the spiked bracelets in their goth section. I have no idea if I'll find it but I can certainly try. I also have to remember to look for oversized green plastic eyeframes and brown shorts (size small or size 3) for Lollipop. She's dressing up as Chicken Little. Maybe a green and white striped shirt if I find one.. but she did say she can look for that herself. She's trying to focus on her nursing program and hasn't had the chance to put her costume together.

When I yearn for forms of contact with you but when the opportunity presents itself, I lose the urge. I feel bad since I'm sure I'm sending absolutely mixed signals, but I don't think you notice at all. You have to catch up with work. You're busy all the time. Barely any feedback at all. What is the point of trying to stand out in your attentions when you are unavailable to receive mine? You're unavailable to receive anyone's anyway.

"Good night & sweet dreams."

    I tried to figure it out. I haven't decided what is the draw to you. Is it emotional? Is it physical? Do you stimulate my mind? Ugh. For some reason, I'm waiting for this pivotal minute moment where it strikes me, "I can fall for you," except it eludes me and I don't even know if I like you beyond our tentative friendship. (I'm still fumbling whether it's the right time for me but there aren't any right guys around for me. I don't know if I'm settling. I don't want to settle, but you haven't proven anything to me. Why you?) I don't see the chance to get to know you... but I guess it is the way when one strives to touch a star. Everything else falls on the back burner. At least your priorities are relatively screwed on straight? Maybe.
    Maybe.

    ....
    What sucks more is I'm one who prefers not to wonder about the what if, maybe if I had, should have, etc. etc. and I take up the reins, especially with minimal risk. Why not?
    So we fall into a stalemate because I refuse to go about this all through electronic communication and your life seems to be dictated by it: the computer, CrackBerry and what-have-you. I choose to live with realism. Therefore, my wobbly conclusion is........ we'll see.

    You fool. (I am a hell lot cooler than you.)

Monday, October 26, 2009

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 06:44:25 GMT

    "'Why are you sad?' Lucia asked.
    'I am sad...' Mishani said. 'I am sad because of the games we play.'
    'Some games are more fun than others,' Lucia said.
    'And some, are more serious than you imagine,' Mishani answered."

- pg. 148, The Braided Path by Chris Wooding

After a staff meeting which overplayed itself by an hour, I met up with the guys at Locus to celebrate ckn's birthday. They already had dinner at Chutney Villa, by Broadway & Main, which I missed out. (Boo! I want their masala dosa!)

A relatively recent (and goofy) shot of the guys I've grown up with:
illusion, Gumboy, Wang, ckn, aluc4rd and LD_Noodlez
missing from here: sushimon and maybe willis (didn't exactly see him as often as the rest)

    For some reason, as I rushed my way through the pouring rain (and I with no umbrella-ella-ella) to take the 03 Main bus up to Locus, by King Edward and Main, I felt deflated. Maybe I was weary from work, an eight-hour shift with an additional three-hour mandatory staff meeting. Maybe I didn't get enough sleep last night. Maybe I was in a particular mood. Unsure. But I imagine illusion would be present and I didn't know if he was going to bug me again. I remembered the last time we all got together... for the screening of Ninja Assassin and how I ranted to ckn and Wang after illusion in the car afterward. I know illusion can be a dick sometimes. It's a facade he carries on purpose. But I couldn't help feeling he's being extra mean towards me and I wasn't sure if it was because I was female... and in his post-heartbreak-with-delicious, he hated on females in general. <[This isn't true. It's not fact. At best, it's lousy guesswork on my part.] Of course, he was concerned about me when I cried in the van but no one knew until he pointed it out. Then I felt embarrassed and wished he never verbally brought it up, "Oh shit. You are crying. (pause) Dee. What's wrong? (slightly longer pause) So how was karate today, Dee?" I know he wanted to help me when I wasn't being moody for the hell of it and was truly upset but at the minute, I wanted to crawl in a crack somewhere. I'm usually okay with being emotional in front of the guys and would've said something if sluc4rd wasn't there. aluc4rd is probably the only one I'm not comfortable with. Everyone else in the van (ckn, LD_Noodlez, Wang & illusion), I was. Blah.
    But, after a patient and empathetic conversation with ckn as he drove Wang & I home that night, I knew I will have to get around to having a one-on-one conversation with illusion one day. I'm not sure if I look forward to that. The thing is... I usually don't mind illusion. I know one may need a slightly tougher hide around him but he'll only pick on his friends.... and maybe the occasional buzzed person *cough* Lollipop *cough* to agitate the shit out of someone else for his own amusement. Except when I'm not 100% myself. When my guards are down and I'm too tired to shrug it off, I tend to take it personally when I shouldn't. I'd get angry, irritated or rumbling for a fight. Hurt feelings. I hate it when illusion does that. When we're together, just him and I, he's normal towards me with only a mildly prickly exterior. I don't understand why he cannot be this way in front of our friends.

    Sitting on the bus, heading up Main St., I felt apprehensive and (I guess) in an attempt to defend myself, I tried to think up ways to push illusion away in case some inane comment comes out of his mouth. Almost all of the scenarios ended with me quietly asking illusion to talk to him in private outside. In the end, before I hit my stop, my anger (defense mechanism) drained me and I cried a little to myself for no apparent reason than being too tired to deal with anything.
    Dried my face. Stared out at the rain-spotted window. Checked the sugar cookies I bagged for ckn and noted the smiley faces cracked. (Darn it.)

    I get to Locus and everyone is in a relatively relaxed state. The first thing asked of me is to donate my gi for them to cut up and create a costume for illusion. They wanted to cut the sleeves so he can be Ryu and illusion is about my size.

Ryu, from Street Fighters

At first, I objected - as they imagined I would. But I thought about it... "Actually, I have an old gi you can use." (They obviously were banking on the possibility I'll only have one gi available.) It was a great option until I reconfirmed I'm going as Chun Li. *shrug* No one wanted to be linked to me. That's fine.
The conversation continued on, flowing an excited topic of Street Fighter costumes and bouncing off to illusion's back-up costume - Pavel Bure:

Pavel Bure of the Vancouver Canucks

illusion has the jersey. He has his stinky sweaty hockey gear. All he needs is a visor. But does he truly want to go around Vancouver, crashing friends' parties, in his hockey gear and his ice skates (with the guards on, of course).
ckn is going to be a Chinese vampire with a yellow paper charm stuck to the front of his face:

a good example of a Chinese vampire but with arms straight out in front and hopping all over the place

(Yes, hopping. They hop. I remember those old school Chinese movies.
Damn things hop everywhere. I remember being scared of them as a kid.)

    In the end, the night went through well. I chowed down on a vegetarian burger meal. All the costume talk went down into the familiar territory of opening up a pizza vendor booth with a Samurai Pizza Cat theme plus the damnable outfits. illusion must be slightly more sensitive to me because he was easy-going tonight. It doesn't disregard the fact I still need to get to that talk with him. I'm thinking of doing it one day when I'm on my way to study by myself at the Waves coffeeshop by Patterson Station. His house is on the way.

    Friendships are difficult to maintain, especially when either one of you hit a bump on the road. They ebb and flow. What sucks is pulling through the ebb part when it's almost easier to cut your losses and stop altogether. Friendships require work and cultivation. With illusion, it's a no-brainer that I want to keep the bond strong. The guys aren't aware of how much influence their words, carelessly said or not, affect me and how much I value them as individuals. When they say something positive, I cherish it but I won't let them know. (They might take it away then.) When they say something hurtful, it does cut. This applies to almost all of them except sushimon and aluc4rd. For some unfathomable reason, I don't take them very seriously, almost to the point of no acknowledgment. I'm not entirely sure why but it's the way it is.
    I love my friends. I've grown up with them for the last decade plus and I have a relative idea of how they are. It's just sometimes I wish they weren't such bitches.

Gratitude:
1. receiving letters responding to my letters
2. fresh, clean water
3. umbrellas
4. colourful cute stickers
5. motivation to write to people

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Sun, 25 Oct 2009 06:05:05 GMT

"Life is always a tightrope or a feather bed. Give me the tightrope."

- Edith Wharton

    Hahahaha... as orcofdoom pointed out (and, yes, unfortunately, I do not have a separate alias for you), it seems like I am miserable all the time. I truly am not. When I'm living life large and my joy is as high as a kite, I tend to be in my real world realm... and no where close to a computer with internet connection, much less one I can monopolize as I recount every detail to my faithful Xangans. I admit - I withdraw to here to weep and sow my seeds of doubt, fears and sorrow. I do enjoy myself and I like to think I'm a generally happy individual overall. Overthinker but still happy.
    A back-up dam of happy minutes remain settled in the back of my mind and once I'm not burnt out (as shoujo pointed out - Although I've been burnt out before and it was never like my current state. Maybe I was simply dead and over the deep end before.) and in a relatively relaxed state of mind, I will recount them.

But tonight is one I'm willing to share in the present moment. I baked sugar cookies with my godsister Lollipop. She picked the foodstuff to make. I simply did what my mother told me to: use the oven. We have pictures of ourselves with the pile of cookies. I didn't realize how much dough there would be. I picked out the basics, ingredients and general idea of what to do, from this recipe.
After baking Gumboy's birthday Splenda cupcakes, I was afraid to use the oven again in fear of breaking it down. But Mother Dearest and her logic came into play. I may as well use the oven as much as possible since the warranty is still good for the next five years. Hahaha... so the main objective was not to make sugar cookies. It was to use the oven and see if it's breaks down or the electricity shorts out or something equally inane happens. It's a new stove and I have no idea why it busted its guts last time.

So....
Since I'm on the road of regular oven usage, I'm planning a number of dishes to try out. (I'm not a particularly good cook. I make food edible enough to survive... like mac'n'cheese with tuna. This is why I need to date a cook. My tummy would preen in appreciation every other night.) On this list of mine: peanut butter cookies, shepard's pie, homemade/home-baked pizza, and lasagna. I have to schedule it throughout my agenda to use the oven at least once a month.
    *thumbs up*
    I have no clue what I'm actually going to do when the oven/stove breaks down. It's brand-friggin-new! I do not understand. Le sigh.
    ... but Mommy will take care of it. Just like last time.

yummy yummy yummy, love in my tummy...

    I so love food.

    Silly Shawn. I'm not miserable. I have good days and off-days. That's all. You seem to have the luck of catching me during my off-season.

    To convince you....

Gratitude:
1. jumping (photo) shots of Cubby, the puppy I love
2. maroon nail polish
3. "Falling For You" by Colbie Caillat
4. plug-in heater
5. long bath soaks
6. colourful gel pens
7. stickers
8. my roaring inner Tiger spirit
9. reliable internet
10. friends who like me for the person I am when I'm with them

Friday, October 23, 2009

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 06:31:14 GMT

Home Sweet Home

    Long day. I didn't get enough sleep. I need more sleep.
    I tried to study and take notes for my Art History paper but instead, I napped for about an hour, on top of the precious texts. Very heavy damn things. Mini bricks.

    Chilling at the coffeeshop, reserving seats for Lollipop and Wang. I tried to focus. Instead, I pulled out my novel - my leisure reading: "The Braided Path" by Chris Wooding - and devoured two chapters. Nerves worn down to a nub. Frazzled. I snapped a little and withdrew with headphones on.

    Home sweet home.
    Friend dropped me off at home instead of letting me take the skytrain and walking in the rain. I wouldn't have minded. But he didn't have anything to do since Lollipop took over his laptop to edit her paper.

    My meal - plain boiled vermicelli. Hint of salt. Added soy sauce.
    I rejected mother's insistence to eat it with a number of side dishes saved in the fridge for me. I didn't want vegetables. I didn't want meat. I felt the need for something plain and bland.
    In all the heyday of the last three weeks, I want something simple and minor. Nothing special. Nothing fancy nor elaborate. I don't want to eat out. I don't want complicated home-cooked dishes. Just a bowl of noodles was good enough. I feel the same with everything else. Again, I mimick my words from last week - "I can't wait until this week ends."

It's beginning to be a personal chant.
What does this signify?

((.seeking simplicity.))

Maybe it's only the month of October.
I'm on the edge and I know I'm somewhere close to burning out. I'm not sure why. Why is my brain so tierd? Do I have to work-out or train more often? What is the source of my stress? Maybe it's self-imposed.

Whatever.

"There is no such thing as perpetual tranquility of mind while we live here; because life itself is but motion, and can never be without desire, nor without fear, no more than without sense."

- Thomas Hobbes

Last night, I uploaded a slew of photographs while waiting for my nails to dry. It goes as far back as late August.

posting up randoms of myself:

Lollipop & I

a number of pictures