| April 18 |
| Archive II: The Saga Continues |
| Sept. 18 Training + Welcome Week = Complete Loss of Mind Ok, so about 2 days of training left, then the insanity of move-in and welcome week shall begin full force. Am I looking forward to it? Not especially. Surprised? You wouldn't be if you've gone through it before, it's like riding a roller coaster when you're pregnant, afraid of heights, have a heart condition, are less than four feet tall and prone to motion sickness. The possibility for excitement is there, but there are so many other factors that, it's more about survival than anything else. Damn Cynical, but what do you want at 2 am two days before the ride starts. Despite the previous jaded diatribe, it's not all bad, this is just the beginning of something unlike anything else. So many people to get to know, and work with, so many new things to learn...all very exciting, right? Right. But let's get back to Welcome Week, last year I was a total stress case, due to the fact that I had some responsibilty and no experience. This year I have A LOT of responsibility and no experience doing this job. Hopefully things go ok, nothing falls apart, and I don't have to be committed in a week's time, that would be too perfect. But we'll see. Anyway, side note, related only by the fact that it's about me :). In case, in the time that we've known each other, you hadn't noticed, I'm a bit clumsy and obviously an idiot, because last week I mangled my ankle in a freak cell phone accident. Details furnished upon request, they're too embarassing for any further public notice. Long story short, I'm wishing I still had a copy of the essay I wrote in tenth grade about how to walk and chew gum at the same time, it may have proved useful. Ok, must sleep, since it's training, I feel like I haven't slept in six years. Ok, Peace out Homies, next updating in like two weeks. Miss ya, Love Ya, See Ya whenever. VISIT ME!!!!! |
| make your choice! |
| Sept. 30, 2002 And it's over!!!!! Well, feed me a bucket of nails and call me Rusty, Welcome Week has come to an end. It's all over now, the training, the mad rush of planning, the week of crazed, sleepless madness. But contrary to the dream I kept having, in which today rolled around, and I moved out of Middle Earth, done with all that needed to be done, things are just getting started. Tomorrow is our first CBP staff meeting of the new year, and after that, my routine will be set in immovable stone. But let's talk Welcome Week, ever so briefly...um yeah, CBP Staff totally rocked it, I'm soooo proud of them. Turn out was huge, their programs were amazing, and they totally rock my world and make me smile like every second of the day. Don't be sad, old ME CBP Staffers, I totally love and miss you guys so so much. Ok, forgive the subject jumping, but it's been so long since I've really talked with anyone outside of M.E., that I'm trying to get it all in in this little space, without being too boring. So now, about M.E.---Middle Earth is Middle Earth, things don't really change all that much around here, or all that quickly, as is evidenced by the housing office which was supposed to be renovated and ready by move-in, but still has yet to show any significant signs of change. The Staff is different of course, but as my friend Scott says, that is to be expected and you have to deal and embrace (That's basically what you said, right Ritter?). So, I'm trying to accept and embrace, and things are going pretty well, CBP staff rocks, so obviously no difficulty embracing there, but you know me, I'm slow to warm up to people, I like to sit back and observe for awhile before I make any leaps toward friendship....so in a nutshell, what that means is, for the most part, I'm still feeling the other staffs out, that and I have had zero time to focus on anything aside from Welcome Week. But I've met and been able to spend some time with some fun people, so there's progress, eh? Ok, same goes for residents/neighbors/hallmates.....I know some of their names......I think. What else? Various random happenings over the last month or so.... There was my superb demonstration of coordination that resulted in me hurting my ankle...it's still somewhat swollen and hurts a little from time to time, but who has time to see a doctor, right? On Friday, I was bitten/stung/viciously attacked by some insect or whatever, and my wrist got all ready and puffy, and my blood felt weird and then I couldn't really move my arm all day. I had a semi-run in with some Frat boys, and yeah have I mentioned lately how much I abhor that whole system, no? Well I do. Hmm....I've maybe left ME 5 times in the last month, so things haven't been all that exciting. I saw 2 movies, went to a bonfire, spent way, way too much money at Target, and went to the batting cages (where the streak of injuries continued with two blisters and this weird underneath the skin blood thing on my hand). I did however, make my first late night (or any) run to Alejandro's though, very not bad. Ok, now for some mind bogglin' randomness, it is the opinion of some that I am amazing, while others seem to think I'm sexy and impressive. Clearly these individuals are delusional, and if you ever happen to run across them, you should definetly make it your personal mission to set them on the path of truth and away from spreading these obvious untruths that can only result in great saddness and disappointment for those who are made to believe them. I thank you for your help. Can you think of anything else? I sure can't. But you know, should you have the need to know something, you know where to find me. With that, I will leave you with my latest pearl of complete and utter wisdom... Keep your sanity, smile as though the world is crazy. |
| October 6 A Place called Hemet....Plus Family Fun Time Being from Hemet, there's always the knowledge that nothing much will have changed since the last time you were there, and that any huge changes are either the result of lengthy debate (we're talking years, people) or acts of God, but either way are always to be grudgingly accepted. Even with this knowledge, it's always odd to go home after being away for so long, it's not the big changes that get you, but the little ones that show the march of time over our little valley town. On Friday Night I went to the Hemet High Homecoming Football Game, and even though it's the same decrepit stadium (even after it's been "refurbished"), with the same creaky stands where it's safer to not touch the handrails and you can see the pink neon sign of the oldest Stater Bros. in town, things were different. And even though, the half-time extraganza was basically the same; the prettiest, most popular girls being driven around in expensive new cars on loan from Gosch Ford, while the announcer talks about their future plans and their high school accomplishments (this time there was video, ooh, ahh), and in the end after some staged, theme-oriented hoopla, the winner's name is set off in fireworks on the fence just pass the endzone, with more fireworks lighting up the sky. So that's homecoming Hemet style, and even though I've seen it a bunch of times, and even though I'm too old to have known any of those girls, I got a little misty. Maybe it was the fact that some of the girls were the younger sisters of girls I went to school with, and I just felt really old. Maybe, as I saw them drive by, I remembered my senior year, and I thought how different my experience was from theirs, and how even after all this time, I still wonder what it would have been like to be one of those girls. Maybe it's because when I was watching their video interviews and listening to their aspirations, I was sad for them, knowing that a lot of those dreams won't come true. Maybe, it was just hormones. At any rate, it was sad, and I felt so apart from the whole high school experience, so completely out of place even though I never really felt part of it to begin with. So anyway, that was part one of my weekend of no relaxation...other parts involve selling houses, cleaning, prospects of moving, and other fun stuff. Additional parts include the annual family Day Picnic at March ARB, free beer (none for me, thanks), rock climbing and winning 10 bucks. The aforementioned Family Fun Time begins now.... So last night, we went to a huge bash for my cousin Lynette's college graduation. It was a big party at my Aunt and Uncle's house in Alta Loma: DJ, catered food, open bar, dancing, tours of my uncle's garage, you name it. Basically, the story is this, my family...crazy fools. Yes, I know you're probably thinking, obviously, they spawned you, but seriously, I'm like the most normal one...well, I was always the most normal one, the quiet in the corner reading a book one, the one my grandma was afraid the others would have a negative influence on. So, some of you are saying, that's still you, and some of you are saying, you are a crazy person, did your extreme Clark-ness gene finally kick in or something? And to this I would say, most likely and sadly, yes. You must realize now that this means that I boogied down with my parents, aunts and uncles, and some of my cousins, while my brothers and other cousins watched in horror/amazment. Yessirree people, I got down with the family, and people were shocked. Basically, somewhere awhile back I decided to care as little as possible about what people think and whenever possible do what ever I saw fit, and just have some fun. Point being, the cousins had never seen this before, and their jaws were a bit dragging, but whatever, it was fun, and I embarassed my brothers which is always a bonus. Final realization: My parents are moving, and this might have been the last time that home was Home. After they move, there is no more home for me. Sad. ok, walk it off Clark. Have a good one, you out there. PS: Sign the guestbook, because I don't think anyone even reads this stuff anymore. |
| Oct. 15 So I'm supposed to be studying or reading or writing papers or something right now (my away message says, "Men, Women, and Chainsaws...think about that"...so yeah, think about that), but I'm over it. So Website updating has been demanded, but sorry folks, I'm blocked, so instead I will give you the long promised page of china pics (maybe explanations too, if you're good to me). So hopefully that will keep you happy until interesting things happen to me, or at least until I get my webcam set up, and shoot some pictures of my latest shoebox, I know shoebox pics are always an excellent means of holding you over until I get my next dose of random inspiration. Talk to you later, me |
| Oct. 16 So if I hadn't said it before, I have a burning dislike for Financial Aid. But they apparently love me, this could be the only reason why every year at this time, they managed to lose or foul up my paperwork, so that I can pay them a nice little visit in their lovely little office. Every year it's the same thing, "we don't have this", or "you never claimed that", funny, but I remember sending you those papers, and calling to see if you got them, and funny but I remember sitting in this exact same chair three years in a row, resigning all the papers I already signed. What is the deal with those people? They never pick up the phone, they never return calls (if you're allowed to leave a message in the first place, that is), and they always, always seem to be missing part of my paperwork. But at least the lengthy line in front of their office, pain in the ass as it may be, is a testament to the fact that I'm not the only one they love/hate. My favorite part is the way they don't want to give me the money, the way they are so concerned about whether or not my brother is a full-time student, or if my tax bracket has changed...like it matters, it's a loan, even if I have three college age syblings that just materialize out of thin air, and my parents invent a world renowned helpful ktichen appliance-thingy, I'm still not going to qualify for scholarships or grants or whatever other free money is out there. I've already signed my future over to you people, you own me for the better part of my adult life, would it be too much to ask, that I actual get the money that you'll no doubt be demanding to have back before I'm anywhere near ready to pay it back? And what about all those extra times I've signed and submitted papers, no doubt I'll owe $200,000 by the time I get out of here. I really should have consider it when they said being married or pregnant would be the only way for me to get a free education, do you think it's too late now? |
| Oct. 19--3am So it's the wee small hours of the morning, and I'm up why? No reason in particular, but what a wonderful opportunity to present to you, a small diatribe on alarm clocks. First, allow me to establish the following principle that will guide the remainder of this entry: I don't like mornings. This being said, let's talk mornings in general.. Not good. Therefore, try to avoid at all cost. Think reasonably people, why would someone want to get up and face a dreary morning, after a night of little sleep, when they could just as easily (ok, definitely more easily) sleep until they can sleep no more. I, as you may gather, am a fan of the second philosophy. Now that we have established this, let's move onto the subject of alarm clocks...not a fan. My alarm clock's sole function in life is to rob me of sleep, this, in my estimation, is very wrong, and I have proof. Knowing that this is an injustice, my mind/body in it's sleeping state has developed an immunity to the sleep deprivatory tactics of alarm clocks. In a sleeping state I have the ability to completely ignore the radio turning on and playing for hours on end. This is why, in an awake state, I set a second alarm to buzzer. Buzzer as you may know is the extremely annoying noise that demands you wake up and face the day. However, I am waging a war against the buzzer. Not one to be told what to do in any state, I have been rebelling against the buzzer with our ally the snooze, or by just ignoring the damn thing. I mean, is it not wrong that an annoying noise should demand that I wake at some unearthly hour? What right does it have to tell me what to do? This is why I refuse to answer it's unreasonable demands and ignore it all together. Classes be damned, buzzer be gone, just let me sleep people! |
| Nov. 4 Swedish for Couples So after a week that felt like a lifetime, where everyday felt like Friday, but most cruely was not, the weekend finally arrived. Not only did the weekend arrive, but it brought with it my paycheck, rescuing me from absolute poverty and making me a happy girl for the first time in quite awhile. Upon receiving my money, I promptly removed my car from its much coveted 18R parking space, headed to the bank, deposited those lovely dollars, and took myself off to South Coast. So I escaped, so joyfully escaped Middle Earth for the first "real" time (real enough, even though it's only like maybe 15 minutes away, but whatever, don't kill the joy) in essentially a million lifetimes. If you take into account the fact that everyday seems like a week, every week like 6 months, and every month being equivalent to six hundred years, then it very nearly was like a million lifetimes since the last time I left. But I digress, so there I was, freshly freed, equipped with money to spend, navigating The Nanavan on my first solo run to the Plaza. Given the excitement of breaking free, and the fact that I'd never driven there myself, let's just say I took a more scenic route. For future reference, people will laugh at you, if you find yourself, shall we say "misplaced", on the way to South Coast. But never you mind, if you are, as I am, possessed of a nearly keen, daytime use only, sense of direction, you probably will be able to find your way. At any rate, I got there, I shopped, I bought, it was good. It's quite an intriguing shopping center, the stores with nothing in them but three pairs of leather boots, a few handbags, and a couch, really boggle my mind, but luckily I didn't think about it, I left my mind unboggled, and enjoyed my escape. Then I returned. Have no fear, I stayed only long enough to rest up for another day of escaping on Saturday, where this time I ventured to the far flung regions, on my first solo run to a place known as Tustin Marketplace. Here too, I shopped, I bought, it was good. So, after shopping and buying, and of course never thinking of exactly how much money I was spending, and whether I would shortly find myself in absolute poverty again, I decided to take my adventure to the next level, and trek to the mythical place known as IKEA. You may wonder, "how were you brave enough to tackle such a goliath on your own?", or more appriopriately given the previous day's preceedings, "How did you manage not to get really lost somewhere between sofas and ktichens?" To that I say, "I laugh in the face of danger", and plus, "I'd been there before". Ah, yes, IKEA, an interesting place, full of interesting Swedish things, and interesting Non-Swedish people. As I dutifully followed the little blue arrows on the floor, hurriedly perusing the fake livingrooms and not real dining rooms, being ever watchful for the rug I went to find, I made an important, nay life shattering... no, fairly interesting observation. IKEA is Swedish for couples. Take this moment to reflect and go "ahhh!!" and "ah-ha!!" as required. Now let us examine this rationally, it is categorically impossible to look two feet in any direction and not see a couple, it is preposterous to assume that you can speedily walk along the little grey path, because my friends the path is blocked, your way is impeded, but by what you ask? That's right, by couples. The place is a mecca for the To-Be-Weds, The Newly Weds, The New House Nesters, The Baby-On-Boarders, and any other form of couple you can think of. I'm convinced that there's some kind of mechanism that allows for the entrance of couples, but carefully monitors the number of singles it allows to enter it's big yellow walls. It only makes complete and not to mention perfect sense, and explains why the only possible way to find another random single person in that place would involve a loudspeaker and a map. Think about it, two people need more stuff than one person, and even if they only came to get one or two things, they had to go together, as governed by the basic law of couples, which means there are two pairs of eyes, thus doubling the potential that something will be eye catching and buy worthy, thus putting more money in their Swedish Coffers, and explaining why IKEA is on a path for complete and utter global domination. |
| Junior Year Sept 18. 2002- June 15, 2003 |
| Nov.8 For one brief shining moment I was finally on the path to becoming the person I always wanted to be. For an instant I was unlocking the doors, discovering what there was to know, for a moment I finally liked myself. Somewhere along the way, somewhere in these last three months, I've managed to get completely lost again. I don't know, I don't understand, I'm so lost. Who is this person I've become? Why do I feel this way? I don't know who I am anymore, not a day goes by when I don't ask myself what made me say something or what made me act that way. I don't understand. I thought I'd become strong enough to hang onto myself this time, that no matter the trials I could handle it, and come out with integrity and character intact. But I guess I was wrong. It's one thing for me to wonder about myself, but I don't live in a bubble, I interact with people, and this is the person they see, this person I don't want to be, but I seem to have no means to change. I'm sorry that I'm this way, I'm sorry for being mad or sad, or short tempered or stoic, or completely irrational or overly moody. I want to be that good person again, I want to find my way back to my right path. I can't live with feeling like this anymore, something needs to change, I just don't know what yet, and I don't know how. Still, whatever issues I may have with myself, or with others, I should be strong enough to handle them, I should be able to deal with them without having them effect the way I interact with others, but I'm not, and I can't. I'm sorry. I wish I were strong enough to avoid the drama and bullshit, but for now, I'm not. I wish it were different, I wish I could set myself right, I'm trying, I'm just not getting anywhere in a hurry, I'm sorry. And now I'm rambling mindlessly, and I can't rightly recall why I even sat down to write this. I suppose it all comes down to I'm sorry, and please don't hate me. |
| Nov. 21...22 Random Stuff So it's been awhile, and my last entry was a little, shall we see perplexing, if not slightly depressing, sorry about that. I was having issues, living under a very large dark cloud. The issues remain but I'm dealing better, and just trying to follow the patches of sunshine I can spot. So yeah, that's basically all there is to tell, or all that will be told on that...but of course, stayed tuned, I'm sure I'll be back to being drama on a stick in a no time flat. Thinking, thinking...basically I'm just sitting here, munching on slightly stale chex mix, remembering just how much I dig the Ataris, and fending off the boredom with musings and laundry doing, fun eh? What other random bits of info are there to share....My little brother will be here this weekend, so i'll jump on a train tomorrow to pick him up in Riverside. I'm soo glad he's coming, I miss the doozer. yay! oh, big news, but I think there's possibly only one person who even remembers this, and don't worry if you don't Allison, but Matthew Van Linden has been resurrected! So, to everyone here, if you see me talking to myself, there are two probably explanations: 1) I'm crazy, and I talk to myself (which sadly, is true), or 2) I'm talking to Matthew Van Linden (which essentially takes us back to probability #1, but we're not going to talk about that). So, basic check-in time: School- I go, sometimes. I have papers and projects due, I think about them sometimes. Health- I had a gnarly hacking cough type thing for the last week or longer. I'm calling it bronchitis, but I much prefer consumption. Anyway, it was a remnant from my last weekend at home where I moved appliances in the rain...fun times. Home- It's moved, so someone tell Mark not to pound on the door at one in the morning, because I don't live there anymore. Yeah, move, sad, weird, trying to deal, working on it, moving on. Life- The word of the moment is confusion. My life has seemingly been spinning out of control of late, and y'all know how big a fan I am of control...so you can imagine my complete freaked-outed-ness. So basically, I don't know what I'm doing with my life, I don't know what I'm doing after graduation, I have no clue what I'll do next year. Nothing seems to fit anymore, nothing is easy, everything about everything is so damn confusing. Anything else...can't think of anything, this entry's a bit lame, but at least it's something. If you want entertainment, read the IKEA one again, I like. If you have questions/comments, you know how to find me, I feel especially forthcoming at the moment, so if you have burning questions, this is the time, but please no questions about burning of any kind. That is all. |
| Dec. 6 Loopiness and other assorted Stories It is Friday, there is no more class, winter break will soon be here, but everything is not right with the world. Something in the universe is off-kilter, the world is all helter skelter, in fact, I think I can feel a disturbance in the force. It must be the apocalypse soon, because I am about to break my iron clad, set in stone, stringent, not on your lifetime, Friday anti-study policy. What is wrong with this picture, you ask? what can make me break such a cardinal rule? I will tell you friend, it is the evilness of film studies, yes I said it, I will not take it back, Film studies has crossed to the dark side in my book of light, dark and semi-shady sides. What do you expect? Would you wish that I placidly accepted the demolishing of one of my favorite rules? If you do, then obviously there are two possible reasons for that..1) YOU ARE NOT MY FRIEND, because you are evil, or 2) You are my friend BECAUSE YOU ARE EVIL. But no matter, we are not talking about you anyway...back to me. So yes, I must work, and I hope you have your tissue box readily accessible because here comes the sad part, here is the real injustice, I must work, so I cannot cause havoc. I'll give you a moment to collect yourself, to reflect, or to look dumbfounded and ask, "you? havoc?" YES, me, havoc, we are one in the same, I am the ultimate trouble, so watch out.... Now you think I have lost my mind, and you are right, I officially lost it yesterday, it wandered off sometime in the evening, but the two are virtually unrelated, and I shall tell you why. The reign of havoc started earlier in the week, as a result of the loopiness...But I can see from your puzzled and slightly concerned faces that you are confused by all this talk of havoc, trouble, minds and loopiness, so allow me to paint you a picture.....It was Monday, I went to all my classes, as occaisonally happens, and I ventured to Pippin for lunch, as, unfortunately, is usual. I have little recollection of the meal, but eye witnesses claim that ever since then the loopiness has run rampant. As to the cause of the loopiness, no one can be sure, but some believe that someone slipped Crack into my quesadilla. I don't know much about crack, maybe it makes people loopy, who knows? But this I know for sure, I haven't been in my right mind since. Ask anyone, I've been loopy, strange, giddy even, and you know that ain't right. So, yes I am loopy and I can't stop, I've lost my mind and I can't find it, and I feel the need to cause havoc, but alas I cannot. Is any of this clearer...It makes sense to me...but then that's not saying much. At any rate you get the gist of it, and I must go, I have papers, and this whole sitting still thing isn't working out too well at the moment. You know on Monday, when the loopiness began, Chinako said it freaked her out, but now she is used to it, but I think it's beginning to freak me out, I guess it's a good thing I don't have a mind anymore, or I'd be really worried. |
| Dec. 9 Hello, My Name is Kristen and I'm a Recovering Lunatic So, as you can see below, on Friday, I was riding the wave of insanity and getting my money's worth. This was merely a prelude to the hysteria that would overtake me on Saturday night. The story essentially is this, I had a 10 page research paper due today (I finished, yes, biscuit for me), and as of Saturday night all I had were 4 random, unconnected and mostly incoherent pages, with no thesis, no argument, and worst of all, no style. The problem wasn't the lack of cohesion or the lack of an argument, because lord knows I've written many an A paper that had no claim whatsoever...ah, freshman year...I'll never forget my TA telling me my papers were so well written that they hid the fact that there was no argument. What can I say? That's a Hemet education for you, gifted in the art of bullshit. Even though, I've been better about actually writing papers, and not writing around them, the lack of argument wasn't my chief concern. What was most distressing was the fact that I couldn't even focus, I couldn't even write my way around it, and it really freaked me out. If there's one thing that I've always been able to, it's write, and not to be able to was indescribable. I'm not a gifted person, I'm not talented any way, but for some reason words and I usually get along. Who knows what it was, but I was so incredibly blocked, and it really scared me. I sat out on the stairs by the parking lot in the middle of the night for about twenty minutes, just trying to get a grip on it. So that whole thing, mixed with my already erratic mental state, didn't bode well at all. Basically, I flipped out, completely lost my mind, I went passed loopyland straight to certifiably insane in a minute flat, it was great. So yes, I was living in a state of lunacy for awhile, I was a not nice person, it totally sucked. But I am better now, I'm starting on a twelve step plan, I'm going to cut back on the crack, the twitching will stop and everything will be ok. |
| Jan. 2 New Year's Revalations Seeing as New Year's Resolutions never tend to work out, here's a list of things it would be super swell if I did this year. Stress way, way, way less~Decide what to do next year~Take a road trip~Decide what to do with my life~ Stop being so afraid~Win a million dollars~Study more, or at all~Spend less money~Worry less~ Spend the summer studying or working in Ireland~Start writing again~Have more fun~Live in the real world~ Win another million dollars~Be a better friend~Think less, act more~Take more pictures~ Develop the pictures I take~Take more interest in my classes~Wear a tiara whenever possible~ Think better of myself~Avoid being institutionalized~~Make sure everyone knows how much I love and care for them~ Remember to buy everything I went to the store to get~Work on learning to trust and rely on people more~ Don't analyze every little thing~Discover the cure for boredom~Be more adventurous~Read more~ Take better care of myself~Be the person I always wanted to be, but love the person I am~ Be Happy~ |
| Jan. 27th Life, or whatever you call this So it's been awhile since I updated this page with anything of substance, let alone anything interesting. Unfortunately, the wait will have to continue as there is a complete lack of interesting in my life these days. I haven't had any funny laundry mis-haps, any ah-ha moments about Swedish manufacturers of cheap and psuedo-trendy furniture and what not, and certainly not any note worthy news. Yes, the sad, cloistered lifestyle continues...my life is spent in classes, meetings, at programs, basically chained to Middle Earth. So, if you ever feel the need to kidnap me, that would be totally acceptable (given I don't have meetings or programs, classes are always optional). After racking my brain for quite some time (some of you may ask, "does it really take that long?" and to you I say, "this is why I spite you") I have come up with the only mildly interesting story of Chinako, Cookie, and Kristen's day at Brigadoon of the Beach. Since it is only midly interesting, I will give you the highlights and let you fill in the rest with as interesting, boring, or torrid details as your little heart desires, like a pseudo mad lib...excellent. So we went to Crystal Cove State Park/Beach, henceforth referred to as Brigadoon of the Beach. From just about the moment we left Kevin, and headed down the very long road to the beach, we were shrouded in mist and fog, so much so that you could barely make out anything a few feet in front of you. Once we reached the bluff that overlooks (or supposedly overlooks, it was hard to tell) the beach, you had to walk down the steepiest, sandiest hill the world has ever known, all the time descending into the clouds and mists. So basically, there was a lot of mist, you couldn't really see the water, or the handful of other people that were there...it was as if you were in a dream. Ok, so now that the scene has been set, here are the highlights to do with as you wish... -"Overcast is not good for the white people" - One sleeps, one reads, one p-chems - Chinako and nature - Chinako gets stuck on a rock - Chinako sees shell in tide pool - Chinako tries to pick it up - Chinako is bitten by the shell's inhabitant - More frolicking on rocks - Partial ripping of pants - Cookie solicits strangers (for photo taking) - Chinako stuck on another rock - Leaving - Psuedo-interluding with an old man and his dog - Other stuff happened, no more room, the end. |
| Feb. 12 Confessions of a Fourth Grade Harlot In honor of the upcoming holiday commemorating the auspicious day that Mr. Hallmark sold his soul to the devil for increased revenue and a highly profitable partnership with the Robber Barons of the candy and flower industries, Mean Granny Sees and the powerhouse trio of F, T, and D, we shall delve into Valentine's Days Past..... So I took a nap, and thought about it, and there's nothing worth noting, except maybe the Valentine's Day of fourth grade, where I quite possibly altered the course of my fate forever. In itself the story is not so interesting, and if memory serves, it goes a little something like this- girl moves to new school, is the mysterious new girl, "dates*" boy #1, "dates*" boy #2, "dates*" boy #3, Valentine's day 1992, boy #3 (AKA the cutest boy in the class) gives girl a card and candy in front of classmates, girl is embarrased, girl talks to boy after school, girl and boy are no longer "going out*", flash forward 8 years, boy and girl graduate high school, girl remains deeply intrenched in the awkward stage that never ends, boy remains the cutest guy in the class, the end... * denotes the passing of notes, and the occasional recess spent swinging together. nothing more After hearing this story, some (Cookie) may see it as the birth of Tammy and all that is ho-cake-ish about yours truly, but to them I say, "nay, look at the above note, the only thing scandalous about 4th grade was the over-appreciation of MC Hammer and the parachute pant." Some of you (again Cookie) may wish to point out that he could have been "the one", but again I say, "No, if 'Sweet Home Alabama' teaches us anything, it's that no one meets there soulmate when they're 10 years old, and even if they do, they don't realize it until after they're 25'....but I digress, the point is this, I did not reject my one in only in fourth grade, I merely passed on an opportunity, which is something that we've all no doubt done in some way or another, and were it not for its connection with this particular day, I probably would have forgotten it along with my seven grade locker combination. The point of this musing, aside from passing judgement on my checkered grade school past, is slowly drifting away from me, but I suppose it has something to do with taking this "holiday" and celebrating your choices, the ones that resulted in opportunities seized (happy Anniversary Allison and Bill!), as well as opportunities missed...and of course binging on cheesy movies and embracing the bitterness :). But what do I know? I'm supposed to be studying for a midterm. |
| Feb. 25 Sometimes I feel like kicking trees Sometimes I feel like kicking trees. Whenever I see a fire alarm my first urge is to pull it. I straighten crooked pictures. I'm bothered to the point of distraction by tags sticking out of people's collars. I always walk on the no bike side of the path. I feel badly if I don't take flyers from the pushy people on ring road. I don't walk on ring road. I like to walk in the rain. I can only follow instructions for so long. I don't like people who don't follow instructions. Sometimes I want to sing. When I wake up and am made to speak, there is no sunshine. Happy flowers make me happy. Sad flowers remind me of funerals. I can't remember how my phone sounds when it rings. I have magnets on my refrigderator, but nothing in it. I hate my alarm clock. I'm addicted to BBCAmerica. I always have to sleep facing the door and next to the window. If I had a puppy, I think I would name it Woodrow. I get words stuck in my head. Words like "strategery" and "Tramposo". I think cats are self-centered. I have problems walking in a straight line. I bruise easily. I'm bad at typing. I'm really observant and really clueless. I don't like change. I get bored really easily. I'm a fan of eighties sitcoms. I have an obsession with away messages. My three favorite colors are green, yellow and blue. Most my clothes are red. I've never been to Magic Mountain. Country music reminds me of home. Before September I'd never really driven on the freeway. I never really wear my retainer anymore. Without my contacts I can't see the lines on my hand. I have a butler that delievers my email. I call him Jeevesie. I like nicknames. I like calling people by their full names. I hate Fashion Island. I get lost driving at night. My pornstar name would be Trixie Calona. I had a goldfish named Scooter, it was murdered. I enjoy acronyms. When I was little I fell off bleachers a lot. I have scars from it. I have a hard time falling asleep. I can sleep for 12 hours, easy. I'm jaded. I worry too much. I like looking out windows. I forget to make conversation when I'm riding in cars. I like Pocky. I always forget my keys. I drop things all the time. I like to rent movies I've already seen a million times. If I were rich, I would renovate the old Hemet theater and show old movies. One of my favorite words is "why?" I always felt like I was born in the wrong time. I say "bless you" to strangers. Sometimes I don't talk. I work too much. Sometimes I sit in Engineering in the middle of the night. I don't say the things I should. |
| Mar. 19 A dollar and a water This is the story of how I lost my mind and my life went to hell (now complete with photographic aids...yay!) It was Jan. 2, winter break was over, I was in Middle Earth, I was sad, I was happy, I was conflicted as usual (see fig. A). Stuff happened. Things got worse. Nothing happened for a while, I was ok. Then more stuff happened, worse stuff this time, stuff that couldn't be fixed or changed or ignored. Then I cried, I walked down ring road, I sat in Social Sciences and cried, people looked at me like I was crazy, they didn't know. Then there was the original stuff and then new stuff, and they all wanted to play with and hang out with the worse stuff. So basically, there was just a lot of bad stuff on my mind and heart all the time. And my brain went into overdrive processing it all, and I thought and I thought (see fig. B) until I thought I would lose my mind. Then I lost my mind. I lost my mind, lost control, I was sad, I was angry, I lost the ability to deal. I lost myself. I was never lonely but always alone, wide awake but incoherent, I was here but I was empty. My world was upside down (see fig. C), I couldn't function, I went wandering in the middle of the night, I sat in engineering oblivious, I forgot how to smile (see fig. D). Things stayed the same, there was always stuff. Then I was forced to function, I was forced to decide. I broke. I cried. My mom worried, it rained, she came, she doesn't like to leave Hemet without my dad (see fig. E). Mom brought the spinning to a stop, she turned down the volume and the haze cleared. There was peace. Caroline gave me flowers, she is sweetness (see fig. F--Now if only I could get a guy to give me flowers, maybe if I were seductive (see fig. G) but that is another story, probably a story actually about a dollar, a water, and the corner of Michelson and Jamboree....but I digress). There was peace. I still don't know where I went, but at least when I look in the mirror every morning, I'm beginning to recognize that person again (see fig. H). She's kinda cute, you want to buy her flowers don't you? Note: Sadly, we are lazy and the photographic aids will not be transfered to this page. You may use this oppportunity to dust off your imagination. We thank you. |
| Mar. 31 Duct Tape The spring has come again, and I'm going to try my best to pretend like winter quarter never happened, because that's the healthy, adult way to deal with things after all. But none of that anymore, that book is closed. I'm back, I'm better, I'm myself again, no longer held together with duct tape and safety pins. So spring break was awesome. I felt as though I was gone for a month, which those of you familiar with the concept of Middle Earth time will realize is earth-shattering to say the least. So looking back on the first entry of last quarter, it's amazing how none of those things have happened...so yeah, working on that. But yes, basically the goal for this quarter is for a complete lack of drama, for the shit to not break the fan, say to hell with the shoe store, and just have some damn fun already. Is that too much to ask?!?! Yes, fun is good, drama is bad, but I think I'll hang on to my duct tape, just in case. |
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| It's Possible |
| April 24 Like a Radioactive Blast From the Past Funny how time passes, isn't it? How the things that once seemed so important and life shattering, eventually become nothing more than shaky home videos in your head. Essentially surreal and out of focus 8mm renditions of all that used to be, complete with soundtrack and disembodied narration. Life is some crazy shit, huh? I spent the better part of tonight reading through the archives for this page (at least, all that survived and came after the unfortunate, and dare we say, tragic deletion of the original website pages...a dark day indeed.) But yes, there was reading, there was remembering, there was (some) editing, because despite all that has changed, somethings remain the same, and my inability to type seems to be an immovable constant, or rather cnostant. At any rate, and to be complete self-absorbed, some of that old stuff is pretty insightful, not to mention damn funny. But yes, it's true, there was a time when my randomness was simple and natural, derived not from frantic stress or the ingestion of massive amounts of crack and caffeine...aww, those were simpler times (side note: the next time I go to harass Chinako at work, can someone remind me that I've had enough coffee to keep 50 accountants awake for the next eight tax seasons, and suggest that I drink tea, despite the fact that tea has been known to have thera-flu like effects on my mental state? what the hell, it'll make the ride home interesting.) So yes, in my younger days (last year) there was much randomness, randomness that I would again like to stumble (as I tend to do) upon. Therefore, I will leave you with random quotes from the past, so that you too may venture back to the days of not-so-yore, and either remember me as I was and will be again, or acquaint yourself with me for the "first" time. Much like family night at Rusty's Tattoos and Piercings...it'll be good times for all. "Danny is pledging a co-ed service fraternity, so I think to myself "It's co-ed, but it's called a fraternity, that's sexist, it should have a name that reflects it's membership, like Frarority, ooh ooh, or Sorternity". Yes, as my Genius task for yesterday I made up not one, but two words, you are allowed to show your admiration" "But pink, I don't do pink. I can do yellow, I'm all about blue and green, and occasionally I've done the purple thing, but pink? Pink, is like waking up to find that dream where I'm blonde, holding pom-poms, and use the word "like" as every other word has become like a reality, like you know what I mean?" "Still need something to do? Then look at this picture of Louis Pastuer and ponder the wonder that is Pastuerization. Can you imagine your life without it? But seriously, why would you want to?" "It's a beautiful dream, but I think the pharmacuetical companies are far too busy perfecting better, bouncier silicone to focus on my little dream of articulating aptitude. So I guess I'll just have to soldier on and deal with my conversational ineptitude. Wait, do you think I could get Sally Struthers to do infomercials asking people to adopt me, or perhaps others with a similar affliciton, in order to raise money for research? I could have my own foundation, that would be swell. Or maybe I should go straight to the top and have Jerry Lewis host a star-studded telethon with Mrs. Garrett from "Facts of Life" taking pledges and Tony Danza performing a slew of Tony Bennet hits? YREKA, that's it!" |
| May 22nd I LOVE MY FRIENDS!!! Thank you for an amazing birthweek!!! You make me smile like the village idiot!! |
| May 26 The end is nigh, just not nigh enough I thought I could make it the last two weeks without breaking for the millionth time this year, but I was wrong. What's wrong with me? I'm not a quitter, but I've never wanted to run away from something so much in my life. I was always the responsible one, the strong one, but I can't even stand on my own anymore. What happened to me? I used to be happy, I used to laugh without jaded bitterness, I never cried, and now I can't stop. How can something suck the life from you, steal your soul, and rob you of all joy? How is that possible? How can one year change everything? How can you be hurt so much by the things and people you care about, but still not bring yourself to walk away? How can you forget and neglect the people who care about you, because you're too focused on the ones that don't? How can you give til it hurts, and still feel like you haven't given nearly enough? How can someone be so visible, yet so invisible and unimportant? Why are there no answers? I just want to be happy again. I want to smile, I want to laugh, I want to have fun. I'm sorry for the past year. I'm sorry for pushing people away, for keeping people out. I'm sorry for being more drama than I'm worth. I'm sorry. But, I want to say thank you to the ones who held me when I cried, who walked countless hours with me in the middle of night, who drove through the middle of the night so there could be peace at the villa, who listened to and supported me even when I lied to myself, who always knew where to find me. My fortune cookie was right: "Prosperity makes friends, adversity tries them." Thank you, words cannot express how much you mean to me, this is just a start....I love you guys! You are my salvation. and yeah, I'm ok |
| May 27 What is there to say? You probably think I'm crazy, and maybe I am a little, but more than that I'm just sad, confused, burned-out, disappointed, skiddish, lonely, bored, homesick, worried, tired, and really scared. I know I don't deserve to ask, but please don't give up on me. |
| June 5 So in honor of my friend Ray who, in true Hemet style, in two hours of listening to my tales of woe and heartbreak, helped put things into perspective and got me to smile again (There's something special about Hemet kids, people like that are hard to come by.), this entry will be drama free. For Ray... Geeks, Nerds, Dorks. Hemet Kids forever. |
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| June 5 Haphazard Thoughts at 3 AM Idle hours seem to breed introspection. And as you sit awake in the middle of the night trying to figure just who it is you are and whether or not you'll ever be that person you're almost sure resides within you, that personification of all that is good and special about you, the person you always wanted to be, you can't help but think about yourself in parts, and ultimately trace those parts to their respective origins...with run-on sentences if need be. The two oldest of my brothers are their father's sons; quiet, quick witted, fun-loving, stoic, strong. My youngest brother is the embodiment of all that is our mother, affable, emotional, charismatic, hard-working, worrier, loving. And then there's me, the incarnation of my parent's difference, conflicted in every way, half my impassioned irish mother, half my calm german father. Growing up quiet and shy, I never saw much of my vivacious mother in myself, but the older I get and the more I experience the ups and downs of life, the more I feel the connection. I see now that while I have my father's cautious reserve, I have my mother's sensitive heart and everything that goes with it, the emotion, the passion, the vulnerability. It's odd to think that despite the fact that we are each unique and individual, we are essentially bits and pieces of others, a crazy quilt of our lineage and descent. The things I see in myself that I recognize as my mother, I also recognize as my grandmother or great-grandmother or grandfather, and it's amazing to me that we can be so many people at once, and yet still be just one person, unique and distinguishable. Amazing, yes, but I suppose it makes it easier to understand why it's so hard to find out just who we are, and find our specific place in it all. Here in these thought provoking hours of the early morning it seems that I'll never find peace with my conflicted self until I truly understand where I come from, and that every aspect of who I am is a part of me for a specific reason. For as long as I can remember, one of my favorite things to do is watch people, to sit quietly aside from the activity and the motion and just take it all in. Growing up I used to watch my parents, marvel at their difference and wonder how they ever got together, but as the years go on it's clear that it's because of the differences, not in spite of them, they balance each other. Now that we're older, I watch my brothers and it's so striking how they're so similar and so incredibly different. Each one of them is the essence of the same two people, just with the volume turned up on certain aspects and down on others. And I'm the same way, I come from the same place, it's just in representing the symmetry of the difference sometimes it's hard to find the balance between my father's reason and my mother's passion, between my mind and my heart. I'm old enough to know that the world isn't the place I once believed it to be, that I'll never be amazing and special in the ways I imagined myself in childhood fancy. And I know that despite the fact I have a conflicted sense of self, I know who I'm not. I know that as much as we're the product of our environment and the people we choose to bring into our world, our sense of self and our sense of self worth need to come from within, you'll never be the person you always wanted if you're being the person someone else wants you to be. And we may spend our whole lives trying to find that person, trying to find the best of ourselves, but I can't help but think it would be worth it. For me, I would take being awkward, uncertain, and conflicted now, with the hope that someday I'll find peace, that it all would have been worth it because I found myself, and I was strong enough to do it for me alone. |
| June 15 End Year...End Drama...Woohoo Summer!! |