Harmony in Red by Henri Matisse 

In the future I'll be realizing how young I was...

It's official. I'm getting older. This realization didn't come alongside a birthday celebration (because mine's in December, hint hint), but instead out of a conversation I had with one of my students. We were talking about 1983, for some reason which I can't remember, and then about what year were born. Nicole is in the fifth grade, and was born in 1994. Which was bad enough. But when I told her the year I was born- 1981 (a great year, by the by), her eyes about popped out of her head! She couldn't even fathom such a long time ago. And that was when I realized that I was officially older. Not ensure consuming, depends wearing oldness (despite the bursitus and various other elderly ailments), but I'm definitly moving away from my youth. Which freaks me out. I'm content with the knowledge that I'm slowly becoming more adult like, but at the same point, I wonder what exactly I have to show for my aging.
The other night, I spent some quality time at my local Barnes and Noble (as I frequently do), and I started reading Prep by Curtis Sittenfild (which was pretty engaging, I'll definitly read more the next time I'm there). After reading the auther information, I noticed that she was 27 or 28 and she has a best selling book published. Shes four years older than me. Which not such a great difference. I'm constantly hearing about people who do amazing things in their mid twenties, who have actual accomplishments. Which makes me wonder what accomplishments I'll have by my later twenties (as I'm already somewhat immersed in those middle years at the ripe age of 23). The only thing I'm pretty certain of at this point is that I'll have my masters degree, which will hopefully lead to some job, that ideally won't involve data entry, and instead be heavy on the creative aspects. I suppose only time will tell at this point. And whenever that mysterious future becomes the equally mystical present, I'm sure I'll still be experiencing these twin tensions of feeling both young and old, and desiring to accomplish more. Weird.

photos

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Note to self: Don't leave wine bottles in car on hot afternoons...

Also, don't stick my face the unknown grocery bag at the bottom of the pantry, because there just might be month-old potatoes creating rank aromas in said bag. Thank you roommates. I've learned so much on this random Friday. The day started out normally enough; the morning was spent by me being bored at work, as usual. Then I headed out to Claremont and found a place to live! I'm living in a house a block away from campus with one other girl who's doing a one year pre-med program. The house is super cute and I'm pretty excited about the whole situation. After that I went to he Ford dealership in Claremont because Tina won something from them in the mail (and was out of town) and needed me to pick it up. I had to pretend to be Tina, which was funny because people who know us get us confused sometimes too. It turns out she won a free 3 days/2 nights stay at her pick of a bunch of hotels in the US. So we've decided to go on a romantic vacation together some time, because everyone at CGU already think we're lesbians, so it makes sense. The dealership was seriously random, they asked me all about my car, if I had payments, the mileage, etc., and I also got to spin a prize wheel, where I won a visor cd holder, yay. Totally random. After that I drove home and hung out for a bit, until around 5 when I decided to go to the library, because yes, I am that cool. As I started driving, I noticed that my car smelled a lot like wine. Interesting, I thought, glancing at my backseat, only o discover that the bottle which I had in my backseat (because I brought it to Tina's house last week, but we didn't drink it, and then I was going to bring it to Elaine's tonight, so I had just left it in my backseat- no because I'm an alcoholic...) had exploded! Apparently, in the desert heat, the cork exploded out of the bottle, and wine escaped onto my seats. So now my car smells like the inside of a wine jug and I have a large red stain on my seat. Awesome. So these are the things I learned yesterday. All in all, quite a random day!

pirates and jedis, oh my!

My Pirate Name: Mad Dog Bonney
Part crazy, part mangy, all rabid, you're the pirate all the others fear might just snap soon. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!

So if I ever decide to embark on a civilization-free life on the open seas, I guess I have my name all picked out. Awesome.

Other things that are awesome: freakin' Episode III of Star Wars (yes, I've already seen it, because I watched it at midnight last night!) Maybe its my inner geekiness coming out, but I totally dug the movie. And I don't care who knows it. The force is strong with me.

working thoughts

"Oh coffee,
you are so awesome."
-Ode to Coffee

I've tried to deny my feelings for some time now, but I can't keep quiet any longer. I'm totally addicted to coffee. Every morning, I drag myself out of bed and to work with only the hopes of sweet sweet coffee waiting for me to keep me going. It might be the only redeeming quality of this job. Because the its not the joys of data entry that keep me coming back. Yes, it must be the free coffee- oh and the paychecks. Those help too.

Continuing the grand tradition

So it's been a while since I've posted at work. Mostly because some of my most recent jobs have not been as computer oriented as this one (which I just started a few weeks ago, under seriously random circumstances). Which makes me reflect on just how many jobs I've had in the past year since I started this blog. As of last summer, I've babysat, worked in a bookstore, worked in a museum, tutored, worked retail (whose name shall not be spoken), worked at multiple shoe store offices (seriously, I'm on my second, both of which found courtesy of craigslist), taught in an after school reading program, and have become a research assistant. I'm not a flighty person who goes from job to job, so I'm not entirely certain how this happened, but that's how I've been paying the bills this past year. What's really scary is that there were few months where I didn't work at all. But hopefully this summer I won't be adding anymore positions to my resume and just be sticking with my current jobs of teaching, researching (which I'm so excited about! published work, yay!) and the one where I update my blog at; office assisting. Other plans for the summer include reading for pleasure (I acquired a library card from the city of Rancho Cucamonga, because yes, I am that cool) and taking lots of fun trips and adventures. I have some high hopes, which I think will be met. I suppose only time will tell :)

a few more hours and i'm halfway done!

So I have my last paper of the semester due tomorrow, and I could not be more excited (or stressed). I'm super excited to be done, and to have some actual free time that doesn't involve reading for class. Of course I still have a good five pages standing between me and that happy dream. I'm writing a paper about the relationship of the artist and the postmodern society, which is a topic that I'm really interested in, but unfortuanately at this point I just want to finish it. Sigh. What can you do? On a totally random note, my friend Joe emailed me a story that was in his textbook (he's studying in China right now), which was about a young girl and her family. Keep in mind that this story was in a textbook about family life in China. (the asterisk's are joe's comments)

My House is Still Happy/Harmonious.
At first glance, my family is a happy and harmonious home. My dad is a factory supervisor. My mom is a manager at a market. And me, I’ve already started middle school, and am the class leader/captian *this is a much cooler thing in Asia than in the States*. My classmates and I jokingly say, “Everybody’s house is official. Who could be in charge of who?” …*ok I don’t know how to translate that joke…, apparently it’s funny though*… Everybody feels that their house is a happy one, an I feel the same about mine. Until one day I accidentally overheard my mom and dad talking.
Even though the door was closed, I could still hear my Dad’s solemn voice coming through it: “Tell me, Is Little Hong Mr.Zhang’s child, yes or no? Tell me the truth!” I simply could not believe my ears. I thought my mom would become so angry, loose her temper, maybe even go so far as to hit my Dad. After a while, I still didn’t hear anything from my mom, I was so anxious! Suddenly, I heard mom cry, then right after that, she confirmed Dad’s suspicions.
My dad isn’t my blood-dad, he had suspected that since I was two years old. But he always thought that it didn’t matter, because the thought that my Mom still loved him, and that that was enough. Now, more than 10 years later, why has he all of a sudden brought this all up again? Because, he found out that the man he suspected 10 plus years ago of sleeping with his wife is not just a past lover, but is still my mom’s lover!
Hearing this, I in my heart uncontrollably blamed my mom for this: mom, why would you lie to dad for so many years!? You know what I think? My Dad is the best dad in the whole world!
My mom had told the whole truth. The inside of the room was silent. After a while, dad said, “So many years have gone by, I originally couldn’t, wouldn’t, ask you this question, but I cannot endure you constantly making me look like an idiot. You have to make a choice today: you either stay with me, or with him. If you go with him, then we will immediately divorce.”
What? Divorce?!!! That’s way too frightening/horrible! I quickly rushed into the room and yelled, “You CAN’T divorce! Dad, isn’t mom being honest enough with you?” then to my mom I said, “mom, can you honestly say you want to be with that other man? If you divorce dad, I’m going with him, and you’ll lose your me, your daughter, forever!”
When I ran into the room, dad had been very surprised. Mom was even more so. She took my hand, and while crying said, “child, I can’t loose you both.” Hearing my mom’s words, I turned away from her, crying, I yelled out, yelled out for my dad. I saw my dad was crying too. Dad pulled my hand over and said, “This problem will only stop if you draw a period in it’s way. *…something like that…* But you will always be your father’s child…
A few days went by. Mom wouldn’t speak. She never stopped working, And dad, like always, helped her work. Slowly, mom started to smile again. The day before yesterday, my mom bought my dad a suit. It fit very well. I saw my dad’s face slowly crack into a smile too. Now, our house is still like before happy and harmonious. And from the bottom of my heart I say, “ Dad, you’re amazing!”