This ain't goodbye...or is it?

I watched Rent again for the first time in years. I was slightly afraid, like with many other things, that it would have been ruined or changed for me because my idealism is so battered and bent. But I still teared up at all the same parts. I still wanted to dance and sing to the same parts. And towards the end, I was still filled with an unfailing hope that was incredibly reassuring and needed.

I will admit that I have ghosts. There are moments when I relive the darkest parts of my life- the times when henry and eric made fun of me, that awful night with adam, or dad......dark, dark memories that paralyze me and allow the light to be sucked out.

But I'm fighting it.

Today was my last lesson with Ivan. There was this precious moment where, as he was blasting cheesy techno from his cheesy godfather's gift, we sat on the couch cuddled next to each other for warmth, playing tic tac toe and hangman. and i couldn't help but grin.

I realized as I left that it was yet another valuable learning experience. I changed a little boy from a monster to a sweet little fellow that loves to read and says "thanks" and "excuse me". That is much more amazing than making millions of dollars.

When I first started teaching Ivan, I would let tears trickle down my face and allow myself to indulge in wallowing pain as I drove to his house, hurridly wiping my face when I pulled up to the place. But now, today, as I drove away I played Keith Urban: If ever I could love and I realized how far I've come.

It's been a boring, occasionally dramatic, relatively monotone few months. And although there are many times when I've writhed and raged against how bored I've been, I think in a way I needed it. I needed some serious quiet time like right now, sitting in my room and just thinking quietly....just being at peace. Safe from the world, safe from my past and my future....collecting myself. Healing. Coming to terms, digesting, accepting things.

That's what I've done, isn't it? I've accepted it. I still get angry and sad sometimes, but I'm trying really hard to forgive everyone- and mostly, to forgive myself. I'm not a saint, I'm not a Christian- I still wish a horrible death on a handful of people.

But my raging hate has simmered down to a echo of anger at the back of my heart. With the comfort of home, albeit how irritating and irksome and awfully dull it can be, the noxious poison has been drained from my soul. I've come to terms.

I've come to terms. Yeah...those are the words.

Ghosts exist. I will admit that. But I'm refusing to let them haunt me anymore.

I'm alright :)

Anger

There was a grey's episode about how anger is one of the worst sins, because it doesn't only hurt yourself. Well, I disagree. Anger seems to hurt you the worst out of all people, especially if it won't go away.



Sometimes when I am triggered, I realize that there are A LOT of things to be angry about. Steph's hypocrisy and the whole niko episode...Mom and how she ruined our last years of innocence by being a maternal tyrant....Dad and how he is practically shaking to pounce on me at the slightest misstep because he hates how i humiliated him.....god, my entire family because of how unsupportive and misunderstanding they are about my career choice.



My old friends. Like how Jess seems to use me as an emotional crutch. Or worst of all, how Eric abandoned me during the worst time of my life and didn't rescue me when I desperately needed rescuing.



Sigh. There are a lot of things to be angry about.



But I have realized that all this anger only hurts me. And why should I indulge in something that is so masochistic? If it somehow hurt them, or got vengeance, that might be fair, but as far as I know they're all happily living their lives without a clue as to how I feel. I feel like that kindl yold man patient in Grey's (lol I miss Grey's) who seemed so nice but on his death bed, made all these bitchy tapes.



The point is, it's pointless. I could start yelling at each person I'm angry at, but realy what would it achieve except me getting lonelier and lonelier?



What's past is past. The worst insult you can give someone is not to hate them, but to dignify them as dead to you. Dad goes in that category, as the worst case. But as for Mom, Steph, Jess, and Eric....there was enough love and loyalty laced through all the anger that they're not dead to me. I still need them, I still need PEOPLE. I refuse to end up like my father- alone, delusional, and slightly insane.



I choose people. I choose the light, morality, and I guess I grudgingly choose a form of forgiveness where I don't really forgive people but I try to move past what doesn't matter anymore.

No drama

I feel like a lot of lines from various chick flicks and tv shows apply to my life. Like from "he's just not that into you", how the justin long character (and i still don't understand how he became famous from apple commercials) says "you chicks are addicted to drama!"

and i believe that is true.

a bit of good drama- excitement, that is- is healthy every now and then. admittedly my tendencies are towards the melancholy pining kind, and i'm glad i'm over that.

i know i'm not soulless, like sayid. i just feel very...blah. it's boring at home. but one bit that i admitted to jess was that, as angry as i am with my family, i know consciously and grudgingly that a lot of my anger is from my previous issues.

whatever. i'm so jittry right now, there's no way i'm going to sleep. bah. i really want to go to shanghai, to experience the streets/clubbing/night life craziness with good friends, and a teensy bit to see an old friend (admittedly) but i know that claremont is far more important. if i get in, i'll definitely go. and if i can't squeeze in the shanghai trip, then so be it.

yep...

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...