The dark counselor speaks

"your twenties are the most important time of your life," she said, a mysterious light- was it regret? anger? satisfaction?- twinkling dimly in her eyes. For a moment, the jet black suit and severe, condescending demeanor faltered.

"You make choices that will shape the rest of your life."

-

She sipped her whiskey sour, wincing slightly at the acidic tang of whiskey softened only slightly by sour mixture and lemon juice. Her sister and her friends were on her right; and old, rather annoying cockroach of a friend to her left. For a minute, a completely unremarkable minute, everything was still and straight out of a movie.

The TV screens were blaring various sports channels, which shimmered in neon hues on the shiny bar counter. There was an army of glistening alcoholic bottles lined up across from her, but she didn't notice. She stirred her drink, after she'd paid the check; oblivious to the sluts and after work crowd and hungry mongrel looking men- and smiled grimly.

College was over. Life was about to begin. She squared her shoulders, walked out of the bar and decided to face everything head on.

Alexandre Desplat: The Meadow

"a secret place, of dreams and mystery, potential and mists and beauty shrouded in notes and words.."

I think I'm going to start writing a book.

Other than that...I had the weirdest dream. I met my daughter...or some dark eyed, curly haired girl that I knew was my daughter (she looked like the girl from Gone with the Wind). There was a baby boy too, and I was on some sort of mission to get them back...to win them back and correct my mistakes. And there was also something about a Korean supermarket and even Rhett Butler, playing some jokes, but the one part I remember is seeing my daughter and catching her in my arms in a fierce hug. And in that moment, I felt so much love, protectiveness, so much heart for her.

And when I woke up, when it was all dissipated and I was alone in my messy room, waking up to a messy house...I felt like I have not loved in awhile. My heart is not dead- not at the infantile age of 22- but it is pumping blood weakly, both literally and figuratively. The most love I have felt lately is a) when I saw my best friend up north and b) last night, post-tmv mini birthday reunion, when I realized that our newfound grownup bonds of "hey, so what have you been up to the past year?" is actually quite enjoyable.

My heart is scared. I have not arduously loved in a long time....in months, perhaps. The fire was quite effectively stamped out.

Hell. I'm scared. There are some days, after busy days like yesterdya....god what did I do. I had to make a study guide, correct Chris's friend's paper, mail some Claremont stuff in, teach, TMV dinner then the lame ass hangout at bar louie's....

There are some days when I have a bunch to do but all I want to do is hide at home, with the lights off, watchings stupid tv and listening to music and writing and/or reading and well...dwelling in daydreams. where the world is soft and safe and unviolated and quiet and dim....a wonderful place to seek shelter from all the madness outside.

What an interesting blog this is turning out to be

Although I've tried to be more discreet, this blog is essentially becoming my "truth" blog.

And it is here, that I will candidly admit I did not get into UCLA. It hurt for a few seconds, but then I was over it. Honestly, it was kind of a blessing in disguise. Because now, as stressful as it is, I have another chance to pick my future out of a hat...or rather, to really REALLY think about what I want to be in life.

I'll probably end up telling ppl anyway, in my policy of unfortunate honesty.

So now, my headache, which was blissfully removed by a hot shower, has returned in full force.

Why is it that it's so hard for me to decide between law and English phD? Now that I know t hat I'm already bored of teaching, now it's time for me to think about wtf I want to do.

I try to think about what I will regret both ways.

In law, I would regret sleep and being a stereotypically good person. No more smiling nice eyes, no more coddling fourth graders or going to sleep at night knowing I'm a good person. My conscience is on sale for a fixed price.

In English, I would regret....time. Because after four + years of study, it no longer glitters the same way it did. I believe I referred to English as my happy divorce- after Berkeley, we parted on amicable terms.

Gosh. I could apply to Claremont, and teach for a year. but that's just time a-wastin, and more student loans which will inevitably pile up on top of my old ones.

I could apply to some PCC study abroad thing, just to get the hell out of Arcadia. But that again, is wasting money and precious time. I could be home, at an internship or working on my grad school apps- if I applied to law school, I would definitely apply to places like NYU or Hastings or even LA one last time, early decision.

If I applied to ENglish, I'd hae to...

fuck.

An almond roca latte post

I figure not all these posts should be emo, and sometimes I just feel like coming here- to a safer, more secret place to think.

Well I would study more spanish but I'm tired. I'm getting close to that moment of "ah, I understand!" when the curtain lifts and you know you're sitting inside a language. But it's hard, because I'm lazy lately and I can barely get up off my ass to teach a class everyday, which is surprisingly exhausting.

I guess...what I came here to say is that despite this blog's name, I'm still deciding where to live. Some days, particularly after I'm very hurt or upset, I declare war on the world and decide to live with practicality. It's law school, cold hard bitch status and I'ma do whatever I can do to give me and ONLY me a comfortable life.

Then, on most days, when I'm tired and hurt and weary of the world, I decide to dwell in dreams...in "the secret life of daydreams" lol. I read books, I contemplate a phD in English, or maybe just contenting myself with life as a teacher, and a hobby of languages an dliterature, and then happily floating into family life whenever that may come along.

I don't know. I think I'm making my choice. I don't know if I like it. I know I will be forever resentful and bitter of glittery, luxurious department stores that I pass. I know it will be hard if I go shopping with wealthy friends and/or siblings (cough steph crhsia nd jess) and realize that I am not livin gin their world.

But i hope to God that I will also realize that a couture sequined dress is worth considerably less than being a great mother and human being. There are very few people who have their cake and eat it too- those who are rich and happy and in the family way- and I for one, after learning that happiness is only true when shared...well...

Right now, I'm envisioning Claremont. I'm scared of not getting UCLA. If I do, I should obviously go, despite the extra year and the lack of stipend/immediate employment which would be lovely. Because with a better degree, that means better jobs. I can see myself working as a college counselor or something of that sort.

But...I see a winding white staircase iwth sunlight. A small but comfortable room of my own- what I've wanted, symbolically, emotionally, and intellectually for so long. Filled with a nice soft bed, a wonderful practical desk, and of course my beloved books and maybe a few nice framed pictures and posters. And then a clean, bright kitchen. and a cozy living area. hoping my good roommate luck continues.

bah. we'll see...