Fortunately for me, two of my apartment mates are English majors, and for the most part I get plenty dosages of swirling, engrossing, literary discussions.

Lately, thinking about my possible future as a writer, professor, or journalist, I realized that owning up to any type of authorship requires vulnerability. The majority of the most heralded works are all written about those most melancholic, deepest, darkest abyss of moments. But looking at any of my past public entries, there isn't one trace of vulnerability or anything even close to personal at all, available to the public eye. And it's filtered for a reason.

Written works of any kind have some type of reflection upon its author. I don't know if I'm ready to reveal any part of me yet, or if I will ever be ready. I'm assuming anything that comes out of me will automatically be decipherable, but hopefully I'm not that transparent. I still don't know if I'm willing to take the risk.

This quarter is over. What a great quarter! I've learned so much : ) but I already know that next quarter is going to be hectic. hectic! I've always managed to keep a balance between everything in my life. Am I ready to devote so much of my time to something I'm so uncertain about? Dread! Time isn't just money, it's immensely more precious than money. It's intangibly, invaluably, intensely more precious than money. I should use it wisely. So is this even what I want to do? Some things are worth so much more of my precious time.

fiction is the truth inside the lie

I think at some point, every girl who's watched "Breakfast at Tiffany's" falls in love with Holly Golightly because she glamorizes the naive, vulnerable, and wandering soul that's inside all of us. Or maybe just some of us. And while the movie may end like a fairy tale, Truman Capote's ending is much more fitting both for her character and surprisingly for me, the champion endorser of all things peachy-keen. In the book she basically continues to wander aimlessly, attempting to achieve an empty happiness and sense of belonging she (presumably) never gets. She mostly fails and gets hurt, and other times becomes frightened and sabotages herself, running until she eventually disappears out of the scope of the narrator's world and off pages of the book. It's much more poetic, isn't it? Some tragic endings are just more satisfying. And since the majority of us don't have that Hollywood ending, Capote's Holly Golightly is pitiful but also perfect in a strange sense.

For some odd reason, the story of her wild and unfulfilled life isn't so much tragic as it is comforting for me when I read it. Just as comforting as any happily-ever-afters. Is this the beginnings of my transformation into a realist? I surely hope not!

So why am I thinking about this when I have two management finals tomorrow?? hmmm... good question. let me think about that one.

"I think I should have no other mortal wants, if I could always have plenty of music. It seems to infuse strength into my limbs, and ideas into my brain. Life seems to go on without effort, when I am filled with music."
~George Eliot

MFEO

Basking in 90's movie love. Whatever happened to that?
I think it died.

"Well, it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were suppose to be together... and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... only to no home I'd ever known... I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like... magic."

~Sleepless in Seattle~

The last fall classes are over. Time to move to Powell!
H and G.

Thanks

Thank you, God, for MY MOM, MY SISTER, my dad, my friends, this world,
my entire life, and everything.

Although there needn't be a particular day to be thankful,

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!
Enjoy Everything, Everyday :)

defining the blog-ist

Today was a WTF day. Everything was swell and dandy until a huge wave of cramps hit me out of nowhere and I felt like someone roundhouse kicked me in th stomach. While cutting out of the Daily Bruin office early and comforting myself in the massive mess of distractions across the internet, which is mostly just people's insignificant bullcrap opinions (myself included), I discovered something worth reading. I came across a blogger that articulates an idea I've often thought about before, but so eloquently, it stopped me in my virtual tracks.

Instead of reiterating the ideas through my own mumbo jumbo, I'll let his words speak for my thoughts. If you have the patience to read this blurb, I'd say that this could be considered a piece of art in itself.

"To be more specific, I find that “art” has become a euphemism, a synonym for glorified self-absorption that encourages a form of narcissism that goes beyond simple vanity in that, by deeming it as “art”, actually justifies and even celebrates self-centeredness. And I think many young people–I’m not necessarily excluding myself–find this kind of thinking attractive (for obvious reasons), but don’t think beyond themselves, making their “art” and the idea of “artist” simplistic and masturbatory. Bottom line: I believe that it’s important to state (and perhaps overstate) what it means to be an artist because much of what constitutes “art” these days is complete bullshit in the sense that, if it’s saying anything at all, it generally encourages and celebrates this supposed “liberal individualist” perspective instead of encouraging a constructive and community-oriented criticism for awareness and, hopefully, change. In my thinking, an artist is only an artist because he has art to share–for others to respond to–and therefore art should (ideally) encourage a dialogue between the artist and the viewer. Even more ideally, that dialogue should be a two-way communication and should, at its best, promote a social consciousness through constructive criticism."

http://www.jonobr1.com/argentina/2008/11/18/hi-how-are-you-im-an-art-ist/

Amen.
~taken from Ted, the art-ist / blogger

so presh it makes me want to puke out glittery little red hearts

paradise lost... on me?

My least favorite class this quarter is surprisingly an English class. on Milton. I really do respect him, but I just can't get myself to enjoy his works.

But I've been pondering about this, and I think Milton didn't exactly mean for his works to be enjoyable. I think he wanted it to be instructive more than anything. And he's right, his fit audience is very few and I happen not to be one of them. I originally thought the reason I was having such a hard time with Milton was because I couldn't relate to his works or his characters. In Paradise Lost, God is too perfect, Adam and Eve don't really have personalities, and Satan... well what does that say about me if I can relate to Satan?

But then I thought about it so'more, and I can really understand Milton, the poet. He's invokes God and these muses to help him achieve this almighty "purpose" on Earth that he believes he is destined to achieve, aims for the seemingly impossible and struggles so hard, but at the same time is completely lost, confused, and constantly in doubt of his own capabilities. And I've definitely felt that before.

I wonder what made Milton wake up one day and believe that it was his duty to communicate God's message to humankind, while I wake up everyday and think, "No! 5 more minutes, please!" And I still wonder all the time what I'm here to do, if I'm doing it right, or if I'm here to do anything at all.

So I guess even if I can't appreciate Paradise Lost as an epic literary work, I can at least appreciate the fact that Milton knew his inherent destiny, and had the unwavering determination and ambition to fulfill it, even after facing challenges such as going blind, amongst others

I'm just trying really, really hard to get through the next few Books.

And finish this Chaucer essay (and heres the catch): without going crazy!

So now that fall recruiting is over, I have to say, I feel relieved. By no means am I prepared for next fall, and by no means do I have a backup plan if no one hires me after winter qtr. But I'm still relieved that the whole "pretending to be enthusiastic about working at a desk job" charade is over.

I think my lack of concern for the whole recruiting process really shows in the interviews, when they compare me to everyone else who's got "hire me! hire me!" stitched-in all across their immaculate business suits. And it doesn't really help that I don't really know as much about the business professions as I should. I wish I could be excited about auditing or taxes, but it's not wired into my brain like that. It's like... training a fish to live on land! But then I guess according to evolution that would make me an amphibian. Or something. Shut up.

I guess I'm torn. Part of me really wishes someone would hire me so that I wouldn't have to search for a sugar daddy come next September. But another part of me doesn't want to be sucked into the corporate vacuum. Also, the current and probably near-future economy is working against me anyway. Dilemma, dilemma.


Or just give me a way to pay off my student loans. And buy stuff.

You know what? I'm leaving it up to fate. If someone hires me, I'll put aside my dreams in a little shoe box for a few years. I mean, a steady paycheck never killed nobody right? But if no one hires me for a full-time job, I'm taking it as a green light to go for what I want.
And that's that. Problemo gone.

and then I open my eyes

a.m.a.z.i.n.g. pianist! and cute drummer : )

Going home reminds me of how far I've strayed from the ground. We, all of us, go out into the world and are affected by a billion different things, and it's hard to remain unshaken. But when we come back home and get together, we really are just a couple of kids from MPK who's shared years chock-full of memories that no one else will understand. It's comforting to know that that's one thing that will never change.

The Confidence Woman

~ Herman Melville ~

I wonder how long it takes the average person to figure out who they really are? Maybe when they're 30.

Depardieux! The motivation I have to study for my Chaucer class is my Professor's extreme enthusiasm for Middle English. I'm actually enjoying it because of his brilliant insights.

The motivation for my Milton class? NOTHING. Absolutely nothing. I'm swyved!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN PEEPS!

The rain in Spain stays mainly in the Plain

I'm not much of a TV watcher these days (except for the office!) but here's my current obsession, if you should ever be so bored as to care:



http://www.spainontheroadagain.com/index.shtml

Probably because I miss Spain.
And because it's about FOOD : ) and frank gehry. I'm sold!
so much for "studying hardcore"

i'm not lost, i'm not lost, just undiscovered

Sure, his performance facial expressions may make even John Mayer's look attractive, but I've been waiting forever for him to come tour the US, and if I could just hear him live in concert, my life would be complete!



is the setting in his video LA? cuz I'm pretty sure I saw 110 harbor fwy. no, I'm not obsessed! I'm just that observant. I wonder what it is about LA that makes so many people feel disconnected and alone.

P.S. check this place out:
Royal/T: British tradition with a modern Japanese twist, free contemporary art on display, AND a fuzzy store exterior. What more could you want?


Milton explication due tomorrow! have I started yet? ...NO! don't remind me

honey, let me sing you a song

I've forgotten how much failure can sting like a mothereffer that wont leave me alone.

In 5 years when I look back, this little piece of time in my life right now will seem so crucial, and I wonder if I'll be happy with what I've chosen to do. But living it now, I can't seem to make myself take it seriously. What I do now will determine an entire course of my life. It may seem like an exaggeration, but I don't think it is. It's like the decisions I made that shaped my high school experiences. Or even bigger, deciding to come to UCLA. Exploring Europe instead of doing an internship. Choosing the red pill over the blue pill :) A cornerstone that your every next move will pile upon like a domino effect until you've gone so far that when you look back you can't even pinpoint exactly where the all changes began. One of those.

According to Bob Marley, everything's gonna be alright. And deep down I know it too, but I think I need a little more convincing. Knowing myself, everything will be alright... Right?













I am getting back into the groove of LA life like I said I would, playing a little too much as always. I went to my first show of this qtr, Yael Naim (French-Israeli singer with a very unique persona, she sang "New Soul") and Matt Hires (new acoustic singer like Jason reeves, can't wait to see him make it big) at the Troubadour. AMAZING. Music is truly an escape, taking my mind even if temporarily, to someplace else. I still can't quite articulate how good music, esp live, makes me feel and why I love going so much, but I attempt to everytime. And I am still discovering even more about LA, from the delicious but shady hole-in-the-wall places (LA Buns & Co.) to hidden gems (Gr/eats).

But honestly, there's still a part of me that thirsts for something I can't quite explain. In this past summer, my little world just got a whole lot bigger. I've always wanted to see what more was out there, and having seen a glimpse of it, I can't undo it. And I'm really scared of this being the end of it.

I don't know what I'm trying to say. But basically, my priorities have been flipped upside down, and sometimes it feels like living this life is like trying to stuff something larger into a smaller compartment, but it just refuses to fit, always gushing out and spilling over.

Who knows,

The Grand Tour isn't just for 17th century aristocrats anymore... I've made it my own!

I know how drug addicts feel now. I've tasted a small chunk of Europe, and I am currently in withdrawal. I've been home for about 1 day and a half now and all I want to do is be backpacking in Europe.

I caught a cold/fever or something and I have a banging headache but my body doesn't allow me to sleep for very long because it just wants to get up and GO. but I have no where to wander to cuz I'm at home. It's a very strange and confusing limbo.

Yup it's a new blog! Only fitting for a new era. I'm about as fickle with blog accounts as London's weather. You know how it is haha.

I miss the traveling, but moreso I miss the uncertainty of backpacking, and the amazing and diverse people that I've bumped into along the way. And it's a whole other feeling, waking up in an unexplored city every 3 days, wondering what I'm going to see that day, where I'm going to walk to, what I'm going to learn, and going to bed utterly exhausted but completely fulfilled, satisfied, and challenged in every way.

I was so worried Europe wouldn't live up to my expectations because I'm a tragic idealist. but I think I've found my second home. The last two weeks was like living someone else's life, like I watched a movie about someone doing all the things I did. But I really did all that! All the art, culture, music, history, museums, parks, sunsets, bridges, streetlamps, the amazing people, all compacted into one little continent... it seems a little unfair, doesn't it?

On the trip I barely wrote about what happened in each city, so I'm attempting to recapture it right now, but my descriptions will barely scrape the exterior of each place.

Paris has the most gorgeous people I've ever seen! And although we spent our nights cramped 3 people sleeping horizontally across 2 beds in Pigalle aka. red light district, and I was horribly sick the first night and couldnt afford to eat anything, it was a damper, but not enough to snuff out the candles in the world-famous City of Lights. The Louvre and the Eiffle Tower makes everything better. And I'm not exaggerating. I can definitely see why Paris is considered the most romantic city in the world. The dim yellow lamps, the glittering Eiffle Tower, the streets lined with cute little cafes, little allyways with cobblestone steps, and art around every corner. Reminders of the French Revolution are scattered everywhere, making Paris all the more historic. Being there is like living in an impressionist work, where it's composed of smaller strokes of refined art and culture that blend together to make a gorgeous masterpiece.





Barcelona is like a living organism. There's this vitality to it that I can't pinpoint. It's not so much romantic as passionate. I couldn't really say the people there are that great looking, but the TOURISTS are the best looking anywhere. For some reason, Barcelona attracts beautiful people. Almost everyone we met there, (the majority of our hostel was guys), was gorgeous. With a few exceptions, like the guy who loved spending time in his tight underpants. But people there are unbelievable nice! They take out so much time to help others, I've never seen that before. And Barcelona is so unique, different from any other city. It's this blend of old and new, and you can see it happening in front of you. Like it's still growing and you've become part of it. The Barri Gotic and La Ramblas are the most amazing places in the world! People there give off a vibe of free spirit that just doesnt exist in other places.

Venice... words can't describe Venice. It's a fairy tale land. It's a city of bridges and canals, tiny streets, cute shops... nighttime in San Marco Square? I won't even attempt. All I can say is, if you want to propose to someone at a place they can't say no to... Venice is the place to do it.
















Florence is ugly but also beautiful at the same time. By the Duomo it's covered in smog and pollution, cheap neon-lighted shops, tons and tons of tourists. It's sweltering hot even in September. Around the Ponte Vecchio and Piazza Michelangelo, it's a whole different world. The mosquitoes may eat you alive, but the buildings reflect off the Arno River so perfectly, it's like witnessing a painting in action, which makes all your itching and scratching worthwhile. Michelangelo's David and Boticelli's Birth of Venus are artworks at their perfection. The David gave me shivers. And also, our Florence hostel was craaazy! And it had tons of awesome, fascinating people.

Last but not least, ROMA! Can't say that without an exclaimation. I spent 5 days there, but 5 days too short. Some of the craziest things happened to me in Rome. It's a city of possibilities, to say the least. Nighttime in Rome rivals Venice and Paris as the most romatic cities. You wouldn't think so because in the daytime it's noisy, messy, bustling, and even a little dirty. But at night, it's peaceful, dimly lighted, full of fountains, and Piazza Navona and even the Vatican area becomes a setting for a romance movie.

I don't think any of this really does justice to the places I've described, but that's pretty much impossible to do with just words. There's so much more I have to say, so much more that happened, but I guess I can keep some of it for myself.

I remember in 7th grade, for my dream job I wrote down: 15th century explorer. And today, I'd have to say it's still the same. But scratch the "15th century".

I'll slowly get back into the groove of life in LA. And I certainly can't hold onto something that lasted only 2 weeks. "Life-changing" is such a cliche word to use, but it really was. Basically what I'm saying is, it would be wonderful to live in Europe for a few years. I'm moving to London!