The Truth
I think I could easily fall in love with a guy who, quite simply, calls when he says he's going to call. I think it's the little things that show you care more.

Until then, I will be drunk.

What the fuck do I know? I'm the most demented reject ever.

And I suck at softball. When did I become scared of the ball?

"The" Ex got in touch with me today. Oh, MySpace. It's kinda thrown me for a loop, even though that's so far in the past I'm pretty sure even Shirley McLaine hasn't had that many past lives. I don't think I'm the keep-the-exes around kind of girl. It's a good thing I don't have many. But seriously, how the fuck am I supposed to concentrate on work? Because there is some of that, after all.

Summary

Summary
Two weeks away and my brain and muscles have atrophied. I just got back from the pool and swam for half an hour -- it was a very brutal half an hour. I worked out while I was away the last two weeks, but there was no swimming, and boy did I feel it.

Also, I'm uber retarded. I got a hair thing tangled in my hair and couldn't get it out. That disracted me so much that by the time I got back to my locker, I had forgotten the combination. The same combination I opened 30 minutes earlier to change into my bathing suit. Good thing an employee came through the locker room and she could walkie-talkie for the combination so I didn't have to walk through half the gym half naked.

So here I am and work starts tomorrow. I'm trying not to think about it so I'm going out for Memorial Day beers. I have this compulsion to get ready for work tomorrow, but there's nothing really to do besides pick what clothes I'm going to wear and iron them. That's for later.

In summary, the last two weeks were really good. Slightly emotional. Mostly nostalgic. I didn't test for my black belt, but I've already picked the weekend in August when I plan on testing. I've given my photos and $$ to my master so over the next month or so I will likely be an officially registered black belt in Korea. Yeay!

I love New York City more than ever. NO DECISIONS UNTIL AFTER THE SUMMER!

Once work starts, I probably will have nothing to talk about, since I have a self-imposed total ban on talking about work, lest I fuck something up. I will have to find something to say, then.

Ooh, I knit a scarf while I was home. I should post pics!

A Recap by Cast of Characters
Here's who I drove 2.5 hours (one way) to party with:

* What seemed like 100 of his family members, including parents, 2 brothers, 2 sisters.
* Two close friends from school (female)
* "Business partner" / friend (male)
* Ex-girlfriend who is well-loved by the family

Seriously!? Seriously. That is all I'm going to say, but I've lived to blog the tale, so it could have been worse.

And, btw, I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY KILLED DENNY!!! Now whyever would I watch Grey's? Oh, right, for the brilliant writing, interesting people, and compelling storylines. And Alex is really a very interesting character.

There's always Supernatural. Oh, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, how I heart theeeee!

Something's Gotta Give


Why do things that make me happy make me sad? Good times depress me. How retarded is that? Why do I live in the past? Why can't I live in the present, and take the good times, instead of having them serve as reminders of what used to be?

One thing I do like is that my being here this last week + few days has facilitated a few reunions. Yesterday, I was walking in the City when someone poked me on the shoulder. I turned around and it was an old friend, also from the same aforementioned sports team. I hadn't talked to her in two years. She came and kicked and played tonight. For a few minutes, I sat back and watched all these old friends having a good time, and it made me happy. Happier than actually engaging in the good times. Weird.

Nothing

Nothing
I am sort of melancholy. I'm not really sure why. Maybe it's my family -- they just do that to me. Maybe it's seeing a lot of old friends and missing what I used to have, and thinking that what I have now isn't so good, or as good as it could be or has been. Maybe it's just general insecurity. Maybe it's having nothing to do, nothing to structure my day around, so I sleep and knit and watch dvds with no particular plan. Maybe it's the fact that it's 1:45pm and it's dark like 8pm, which means rain. Boo, rain.

Maybe it's that in a lot of my interactions with people lately, I sit back and am very quiet. Why? Well, I just had lunch with my parents and my cousin and they were going on and on in Chinese about things that I couldn't really contribute to. Even if I did have something to contribute, I'm just used to being quiet around my relatives. It's like a remnant of my childhood, when I was supposed to be seen not heard at family / business functions. Yesterday, I hung out with other old friends, but they're so close and they just go on and on and I can't really contribute b/c they talk about people I don't know. I was also super tired. And even last Thursday, as discussed in the previous post, I didn't have much to say. Hanging out with third and fourth degree black belts made me a little nervous, and they were talking about stuff I knew nothing about. And I was super tired b/c that was the day of my brother's graduation and I had been up since 6:30 am.

I forgot to mention my brother's graduation. That was on Thursday. It sucked. Royally sucked. It was at a big arena where the local NBA and NHL teams play. It was nice not to have to push and shove for seats, but did they really need to read the names of every Ph.D. and masters AND bachelor's graduate? And the Ph.D. ceremony was interminable -- not too many of them, but read the titles of their dissertations and the names of their advisers and hooded them. Ugh. And there were horrible speakers. We totally bailed after my brother walked. I bet by the time they read the last student's name, the place was nearly empty.

Then we got stuffed at Cheesecake Factory. Yumm.

Maybe it's just the rain after all.

These Are My High School Days

These Are My High School Days
Last night was a blast from the past. Met up with some old friends, and one guy from that era who was not my friend, but might be now. It was mad fun, but a bit weird. We all were members of the same sports team, but at different times, and I was only ever on the team with one of the people there, and only for a year. So I felt like a bit of an outsider. But it was fun. There might be more such fun on Tuesday.


Incidentally, now is a good time to go drinking with me. I apparently pick up the tab wherever I go.

And what's the title about? Well, in high school, I was a good girl. But staying with my parents now, I worry about things like staying out all night and coming home in the morning. They never say anything beyond hello and good morning and where did you sleep last night -- I usually just brush them off with "a friend's place." They never say anything, but it's so weird.

Oh, and last night, at the bar, one of the guys whipped out his laptop and started showing a dvd of highlights from this particularly good taekwondo fighter -- national team and champion and all that. It was pretty freaking amazing. But the best part was the way the busboy and another customer were watching, and completely engrossed, as well.

Last Thought
Having breakfast (or lunch) trying to finish up the perishable food in my apartment before I hit the road. I just saw a headline on Googne News that says "Most of New Hampshire Flooded." I know it's a small state, but isn't that weird?

We are currently being inundated with rain. I think it's rained non-stop for five days. Like, not just overcast and drizzly, I'm talking torrential downpour. Blech.

OK, gotta run!

Done Part the Second!

Done Part the Second
Finally, I've turned in my tutorial paper!!!! My original deadline was Wednesday, then Friday, but I ended up turning it in at 2amish. Sunday. Oh well. Clearly the instructor doesn't care or I wouldn't have done this. But yeay, I'm done!!!! I freaking hate footnotes. I had about 180 of them. It was a 28 page paper, in 12 Times New Roman, double spaced. Oy! This was the first paper I have ever written with footnotes. Weird. Anyways, this post is jumbled but it's just an update. I'm heading down to Jersey in the morning, then I have a week of graduations, going to help the Cuz move out of her dorm, and meeting up with friends.

I'll probably be posting more than ever once I get to Jersey.

I hope I get to test for my black belt this time. Fingers crossed!

I Think I Know Why I Hate Bush

I Think I Know Why I Hate Bush
Well, ok, I have *another* reason...

I was watching the Colbert Report tonight and, well, his clout has certainly increased because instead of recycling Jon Stewart's guests, he landed Madeline Albright. Madam Secretary. Whatever I'm supposed to call her. She's written a new book, and, well, I was half-listening so you'll have to forgive me for inaccuracies, but she was basically warning against Bush's deep-rooted certainty of being right, in God and everything else. And it's true because one of the common complaints/criticisms of Bush is his inability to say that he's wrong. But her point was bigger than that. That it's dangerous to think you're so right and to be so sure. And I would have to completely agree.

When I was a senior in college, I had a bit of a faith crisis. I'm still not sure why, but I think it had to with me believing that faith and living my faith was all about following rules. I know that's not right, and I'm not sure I don't not believe it anymore, but anyways, it was senior year, and I was having a faith crisis. At the time, a significant portion of my life was intertwined with a campus Christian fellowship and I started to buck it all. Somehow, at the end of the year, I ended up going to the annual retreat -- Summer Conference. It was held that year at this gorgeous camp on a gorgeous island. That was probably part of the draw, but in any event, I went. And I participated in the Genesis study. (Yeah, that Genesis.)

My struggles were very real during that week ... everything I didn't understand in the text felt like something I didn't understand in life. The study was so profound. But there was this guy and he bugged me endlessly. Why? Because he was so *SURE* in his faith. He would offer his explanation of something unclear in the text and it wouldn't be based in the text, it would be based in his wider belief. Maybe it bugged me because he was bringing in things from the New Testament into Genesis, into the creation story, and so it didn't seem rational. But really, he bugged me because he was so sure. And in some ways, that diminished my struggles, because he made it seem so easy and that it was my problem for not having the same ease in my faith as he did. Yet I know that to believe is to struggle, and he probably struggled too, but at the time, it was so irritating.

One night, we were going through a particularly hard passage -- I think it had to do with the fall. You know, the apple (fruit of the tree of knowledge, really), the snake (which wasn't really a snake, but whatever), the bite. And I think we were discussing how God could love us yet let us fall. And the discussion was coalescing into this general consensus that maybe God wasn't so good after all, that the fall was done out of ... something that wasn't love. Ironically, it was me who stopped that vein of discussion with a passionate diatribe about how could we believe that when we know God had created this most beautiful world and filled it with things out of love for us, created us out of love. In the end, I halted that discussion with my faith that God is good.

And then I bolted into the bathroom and cried.

Sometimes, when my faith wavers, I think about that night.

There seems to be a place for unwavering certainty. Then there seem to be places where a little reasoned debate is helpful.

Blaah

Blaah
I feel like I'm not living my life. I feel like I'm not living. Well, I'm clearly alive, but I only exist. I feel like I care more about what other people are doing than about what I'm doing. And that what I'm doing doesn't matter. Nothing matters unless it's about someone else. Where is my life? What is my life? What is the point of life? I fill my days with activities and experiences. I exercise, I swim, I occassionally go to taekwondo. I've picked up my knitting again. I read magazines and the interweb. I watch tv. I think about things, but the things I think about don't have to do with me. They have to do with other people. I suppose this isn't really true b/c here I am writing about my life. I must be thinking about it to accomplish this task. But maybe this just means that I turn everything off and then vomitron it out here. Maybe I'm just lonely. Maybe I'm frustrated that I'm done but not really done because I'm working on this paper, but not really working. Maybe my life these last two years have become all about accomplishments and grades and accolades. This has never been me but it's so deeply infiltrated my being. What happened to happiness? Even something that should be bringing me happiness isn't because I'm just too royally fucked up. Too fucked up that I fucked it up? We'll see. Maybe it's hormones. The timing would be right, but usually I'm angry. Now I'm just ... depressed. No, I'm not depressed. I just feel like I'm not alive.

Bitch and Moan aka More of the Usual

Bitch and Moan aka More of the Usual
You know what I hate? When you're doing something and all of a sudden you realize you could have written something else on your exam you took / turned in last week. It's the worst feeling b/c sometimes the thing you could have written was really obvious and not having written it just means you were really unprepared for the exam. And because when you actually practice law (or insert relevant field of practice), that little detail won't ever be relevant, there's nothing this little realization can do for you except make your expectations for grades day even lower. And at the same time, you worked really hard but know you could have worked harder, but either you're just fed up with all the bullshit or you're just tired and worn out. Or maybe you just didn't drink enough (or any) beer after the exams to get the whole damn thing out of your head.

You know what else I hate? When you get a full night's sleep and wake up more tired and sore than when you went to sleep. It's like during the night you engaged in some kind of full-contact slumber, even though there was no one else in your bed and nothing else in your bed besides some cushy pillows and plush, inanimate companions. Yet if someone told you that during the night, 12 men with large sticks broke into your apartment and hit you with said sticks all night long, it would completely make sense because that's how you feel.

You know what else sucks? Being one of the last people at school with work left to do. You made this bed, it's true, but that doesn't mean it doesn't suck when 12 men with large sticks beat you all night long. Wait, I'm mixing my rants.

In college, I was notoriously bad with deadlines. Knowing that I could get an extension with a quick email made me very undisciplined. But then one year, it really backfired because literally as everyone else was done and partying, I was pulling an all-nighter working on a final project. Yeah, that really sucked. Especially because about 4 hours after turning in said project, they kicked me out of the dorms. I think. Because then again, that was so long ago, I could very well be making shit up just to get sympathy.

Done!

Done!
I am done with finals! Well, I finished finals on Thursday and spent the weekend partying. Finally coming up for air. It's gorgeous out, and I don't know what to do with myself. I think I'm heading to the gym shortly, but I'm kind of full from lunch so I'm going to put it off for a little while.

Tomorrow, I have to start working on my paper for my tutorial. It's kind of a joke, this tutorial, but I have to turn the paper in. It's three credits, which is as many credits as the exam I took on Thursday. Oh, by the way, that exam sucked beyond words. I ran out of things to say at around 11:30. The exam started at 9:30, we got 45 minutes to read. So after 75 minutes, with an hour still left, I had run out of things to say. That does not bode well. But I stuck it out and made some stuff up and did some editing.

I seem to have lost the ability to think and put my thoughts down coherently.

I could write about something much more interesting, but I vowed not to write about it here. It all just is. Neither good nor bad, but it just is.