Reading a magazine today, I stumbled upon an article-ette about David Arquette's fetish for sniffing Courtney Cox Arquette's armpits. I found the same info online. So I'm not the only one (and I lied about no longer having this fetish)... I bet there are many others out there!

It doesn't sound so strange now, does it?

My last white ex was a very good soccer player. Soccer sure does a body good! The ex was thin but nicely cut, lightly muscular... the 2%bodyfat type of lean that shows a clearly-defined six-pack even when not flexing. His most admirable parts below the neck were located on his lowerbod... rockhard muscular buttocks and sinewy thighs and calves, sculpted to sheer perfection through years and years of playing soccer.

I give them props here, but I've never really been a nice-butt or nice-legs girl. For me, it's all about a guy's shoulders and pecs... when they've been developed and defined. There's just something supersexy and ultra-touchable about those two parts...

I am semi-seriously thinking of becoming a Physical Therapist.

One thing I saw last nite that I don't understand... a buncha Asian chix wearing sunglasses in the club, while dancing, when it was already quite sufficiently dark in there, and the lighting was cool. Can someone shed some light on what they might've been thinking? Am I missing something by not wearing a pair myself? Were they just trying to hide uglyass faces behind those sunglasses, or were they just trying too hard to look cool? Well, they didn't look cool, and I am baffled...

And yes, they are.

Wow. I just had a great time. It was all about the music and dancing... Drug-free. Alcohol-ample. Now I am super hungry. I'm going to go on a latenite/earlymorn Jack-in-the-Box run...

I drank last nite... I was my own designated driver for the first time in a long time. I drove myself there, didn't drink too much, got myself home safely. I passed that test. Veni Vidi Vici.

Gonna dance tonite... I'm up for another test. And I will pass it. With flying colors.

I will not allow myself to ever be controlled by anything in this world. Under no circumstances will I let myself be under the influence of anyone or anything... except alcohol. I will allow myself that one poison...

What a beautiful day today is...

Woke up around 8:30 with a bit of a headache. Drank a cup of water and went back to sleep. Didn't get out of bed until around 10:30. Went out to McDonald's for a sausage biscuit with egg, hashbrowns, and orange juice. Brought a magazine and dined in. Came home and went back to bed. Got up again around noon. Went to Tapioca Express for Combo A. Smothered the crispy chicken with the hot red powder... and sat out in the sun to eat it. Finished half of it while driving up to the Haight.

Whenever I'm up in the City, I wonder how different I'd be right now if I had grown up in a busy city, spent the majority of my early years in a more urban neighborhood. I tend to think that as long as a person is free to go wherever his/her inner desires push, no matter what his/her beginnings, he/she would end up at the same place in life eventually. No matter how else I could've started, I think it's highly likely I'd be living here... doing, feeling, thinking more or less what I'm doing, feeling, thinking now... I'd be the same person, just with a different set of experiences comprising my history.

There's just something really awesome about live DJs mixing it up within clothing stores the way they do in the Haight. Puts you in a good mood, good enough to wanna buy something though you're dirt poor and shouldn't. Lotsa cool duds, but I was looking for shoes. Despite the fact that there were many, they all seemed pretty similar, slightly different. I didn't find what I was looking for... none seemed unique-enough. Is it ok to buy a pair of shoes that looks almost just like a friend's? Or would you then be considered a poser, posing as your friend?

Stopped by Hillsdale Mall on my way back home to shop for new foundation. I haven't been wearing any for the last couple months, hoping that giving my face a break would help clear it up. But after several months and not much improvement, I think I'd rather hide my zits than wait for them to disappear. I got snared into checking out Clinique products by an aggressive saleswoman. (I really didn't wanna go there.) The stuff she put on my face didn't match my neck at all. It never does. When will these makeup companies ever get Asian skin right?

Seems like I've tried every type of medication, short of antibiotics, to get rid of my zits. Well, then there's Proactiv. I heard through the grapevine that it works wonders. Any of you who've tried it before, I gotta talk to ya.

Grabbed Jamba Juice for dinner. And that's been my day so far. Eating and shopping. Alone. Free. Simple. Relaxing. Beautiful.

I have a sneaking suspicion that after a lifetime of searching for the Truth, I will have discovered that the one thing really worth living for and believing in is love... despite how jaded we are and how resistant we are to it. Sounds too simple and hackneyed, doesn't it?

Nevertheless, I'm suspecting more and more that if there's one thing I can predict (and I haven't tried to predict much else), it's that by the end of my life, I will have inadvertently lived out one long lovestory. Not an adventure or an action flick. Not a romantic comedy or a fantasy tale. And we hope not a tragedy or horror... But yes, a lovestory.

Simple and sweet, or full of schemes and plot-twists? Dunno. There have been no revealing previews...

I will save you someday. Maybe.

Today was my last day at the office, the last day of work I'm guaranteed to be paid for... I spent more than half the day working from home, where I'll be working for the next three months if my vendor PO goes through. If today's a clue as to how it's gonna be, they're gonna be threee terrribly looong months...

It's awkward going through a day of indoor isolation, then heading out at night and suddenly needing to be social, to talk to people using my voice, not my fingers. The transition is not a smooth one...

Hello, people in the outside world. It's me. Giddy. Trying to get in sync with all of you. But you all make me feel so strangely nervous and nervously strange...

Only Thursday. I'm already thirsty. So thirsty for a drink...

I hate talking on the phone. It's such an inferior, inefficent way of communicating. Some people are never on IM, or they're inaccessible within a reasonable/expected timeframe via email... and you just gotta put the damn plastic thingy to your ear and dial their digits if you need something from them right away.

I never know what to look at while I'm talking on the phone. The auditory is coming in, but where are the complementary visuals? Watching TV or surfing the internet while on the phone is just plain rude, and hard to do without neglecting the caller. If I'm driving, no duh I gotta look at the road. But I'd much rather be enjoying the drive, holding the stick and the wheel while listening to loud, thumpin music...

But what makes phone calls so bad is that, when on the phone, most people seem to suffer from severe cases of verbal diarrhea. Minutes turn into hours. Blah, blah, blah... The same shit is dished out over and over. It's as if people can't remember they've just given me the same information in previous sentences, just in slightly different words.

Wanna talk? Set up a meal with me over a 2-minute-max phone call...

I sure would like some chocolate right now.

I had a fucked-up-headtrip dream last nite that I wasn't going mention today. But since the subject of dreams has come up more than twice today, here's what I've been thinking...

Are you able to wake yourself up from bad dreams and nightmares? I was under the impression that everyone could... because I can. I can the moment I realize that I'm dreaming... That moment usually comes when I suddenly realize I am acting out of character within a situation in a dream, or feeling an emotion too deep, usually too painful or too unbearable... an emotion I have never felt in real life, either because it's too intense, or it's not associated with the actions I'd respond with outwardly in real life.

When I feel as if I can't pull myself out of bad dreams right away, though I've realized I'm dreaming, I am struck with the most awful fear. As far as I can remember, not being able to immediately wake myself out of a nightmare has happened to me this once. I was fuckin' freaked out like never before...

I was able to shake myself awake last night.

I say, unpredictable dreams are not as good as conscious fantasies. Retreat into your own personal fantasyworld when dreams fail to come... and reality limits you, disappoints you, offers you nothing new or desirable. Go where there is such a thing as magic. Or subscribe to over 500 TV channels, and work with those...

But I'm all about reality these days. No matter how insipid it can get.

Yeah, empathy can be totally counterproductive at times. It can distort one's view of his/her own situation... especially when directed toward the alone and lonely...

Empathy or sympathy? Are those your feelings bringing me down, or are they mine too?

Sadly, I missed Mooncake Day too. I need to make it up to myself... I hope they're still selling fresh ones at Sheng Kee Bakery. Do they sell them all year 'round, and I just don't notice?

Tonic - Take Me as I Am

They're just things, Jennie. Just things.

Things don't make a person. Things are just things. They don't make people any happier than you are. They don't make people any better than you are. Know that. Believe that. Remember that.

Have you ever caught a more-real-than-you'd-like glimpse of where you would be, what you would have, and how you would live... if only you had just a little more money, enough to afford the relatively ordinary things you've always wanted and would have if you could spend more than 200bux a month on food and entertainment?

I have, and it's trippy... way, way too trippy...

I'm changing pimps at the end of this week.

To take me off the headcount, my department is taking away my contractor status, and has arranged to pay me for services rendered in the future through a vendor company instead.

I'm gonna be getting a little more money from the vendor company than I've been getting from the contracting agency, and the vendor company is gonna be getting money off me from Sun. I call this kind of arrangement mutual pimpation.

Some people are able to make such an impression on us or intrigue us to the extent that they come up constantly in group conversations. We can't talk about them or their affairs enough, whether we are involved a little or a lot...

How are do they make us love to talk about them so much? Do they intend/try to? Or are they just so off-beat, quirky, misunderstood, or angst-ridden that we can't help but discuss them amongst ourselves? Do they have any idea they have this kind of an impact on us?

Seems like everyone around me is physically falling apart.

Every 4th Sunday of each month, I am the piano accompaniment during the little church services held at Baywood Court, a senior center/retirement home located across the street from my parents' home in Castro Valley.

I volunteered for the duty around 10 years ago... maybe longer ago, I can't remember. I did it then for more than one reason. It pleased my parents, and perhaps God too, if he couldn't see my true heart - I was really doing it for my own purposes, and not for his; it forced me to make an obligatory trek home at least once a month, to drop in on my family; it helped keep fresh in my mind the option of religion; it made me feel good to be using my talents for a cause, to put smiles on people's faces, expecting nothing tangible in return...

None of the above reasons are good enough anymore. I can't stand to listen to the sermons. I can't stand the hypocrisy... indirectly promoting religion while my own heart and mind do not belong to God. My music sightreading has gone to pot, and I won't allow myself present half-assed, half-hearted performances. I don't need any additional reasons to drive the 30 miles to visit my parents at least once a month....

And it disturbs me too much to see the old people... the mobile ones feebly using walkers, those in wheelchairs hardly conscious, unable to do anything for themselves. Such a contrast they are to who I am now. I can't bear to imagine myself in their states. I can't bear to see people at the brink of death... wasting away, in pain, ignored, useless, mindless, secluded in a retirement home... Makes a shorter life due to death while still relatively healthy seem to be a more attractive option.

So now I have to write up a letter explaining why I won't be volunteering at Baywood Court next month or ever after. I don't have a "good" excuse other than I simply don't want to do it anymore... which is why it's taken me this long to quit. I hate writing this type of letter... and I sure do hope this wasn't the one thing keeping God from condemning me to Hell at the end of my life. (sarcasm, of course)

Conflicted again... Tonite. Dance or drink?

Eh, I'm going to pick gettin' decently sloshed tonite. It's been a long time since... toooooo long. I'll start out the nite w/ a Cosmo. Oohh, can't wait... *lick lips* :P

Dear Old Friend,

How are you doing? It's been a long time since I've written, and I sincerely apologize for that. I've been preoccupied with a few things as of late, but I've found a moment to breathe and would love to catch up with you...

Sounds like you've got a fine gig going on at your new house. Congrats! All that hard work sure paid off, didn't it? How do you like the neighborhood? How's John adjusting to the new job? And little Jane? Is she starting kindergarten yet? I can't believe it's already been four years. You gotta send me new pictures.

My parents are doing well, thanks for asking. Relatively healthy and happy. I visit them a little more often now. They're still only a half an hour away, but you know how it is... how it's always been. Whenever I see them, I can sense their disappointment, their opinion that I'm doing the wrong things with my life. They will always believe that, as long as I refuse to join them in surrendering my mind and heart over to God. I'm not going pretend that I'm a Christian, that all their efforts over the last 25+ years to bring me to repentence have been fruitful... and I won't go through the motions, such as dropping in on church services every now and then, just to give them false hope of seeing me in Heaven someday.

But I love them terribly, and I will at least someday give them the grandchild they're so looking foward to.

All in all, I myself have been doing pretty well too. Healthy and happy as well. Continuing to take steps towards a squeaky clean bill of health, and making progress in the way of happiness. I honestly believe that what I'm doing now is right for me. I believe that as long as I'm able to justify to myself the things I do, which in the long and short run bring me more lasting good than bad, I'm doing what's right for me, and I will not regret...

Financially and job-wise, I'm faring better. Mainly because my attitude about both has changed. I've accepted that a successful career won't complete me, just as an ordinary, template relationship with an ordinary, template partner wouldn't... so looking/finding either or both isn't on the top of my current list of things-to-do.

I live in a new place now. I'm comfortable with my own room in a house that I share with four others, who I still hardly know though I've lived with them for about two months. What's important to me is that I have space where I want it, and I do. I've remained single by choice since the end of my last relationship; I now make 99% of my decisions based on what seems best for just myself. All that I didn't want out of my past relationships has been successfully nixed. All that I liked, I still have... without the negatives of a relationship.

I spend most of my time away from home with a close friend, the type of friend I've never had in the past, the type of closeness that I've needed and subconsiously wanted for most of my life... Said friend and I don't have a conventional friendship. It transcends definitions and labels that people would readily give it. It won't be cheapened and limited by those definitions and labels. Itself doesn't cheapen or limit me. It builds me up, strengthens me, keeps me believing in the good and the real... There is no bad end in sight. None that I predict or expect.

I wholeheartedly appreciate the wonderful things life decides to throw my way at random (or perhaps not so randomly). I will keep them close for however long I can have them...

Looking into the future, I continue to carry with me an inkling of hope of finding the Truth. In the meantime, the scenery improves... The sun is brighter, the air is warmer, the grass is greener, the water bluer than ever before. Especially here in Cali. :)

Well, I hope things are likewise going well for you, and I look forward to hearing from you again soon.

Cheers,

Jennie

(P.S. "Old Friend" is any of you who I'm losing touch with, or haven't had a real conversation withi in awhile...)

How many of us who go to the San Mateo 24HourFitness have or have had ex's who also go to that gym?

It's a lil awkward, ain't it?

Where's a punching bag when I need one??

jab, jab...
  shuffle, shuffle
jab, jab, Right.
  duck
jab, Right.
  duck, shuffle
jab...
  shuffle, shuffle
jab...
  shuffle
jab, Right, jab.
  duck
jab, Hook.
Uppercut.
  duck, shuffle
jab, jab...

You females know, women's clothing is so f'n expensive. Even the tiniest piece, the thong, costs on average $9. And that's for a plain one, w/ no sexy frills. The older you are, the more expensive the clothes that are supposed to be appropriate for your age. I can't keep up with the prices of many things appropriate for my age. I'll probably be wearing Juniors' clothing for the next 10 years...

But I realized today that I'm finally kinda fine with that. I hadn't been so fine with that until lately. I've stopped paying as much attention to what other women wear or how well-put-together they are on the outside; the simply splendidly goodlooking have stopped catching my eye the way they used to.

I've started looking out more for signs of individuality, how comfortable one appears to be in his/her own skin, how grounded & real he/she is...at the outset. Not that I used to be a Shallow Hal. I still look just to look, but looks don't draw me closer or bias me as much anymore.

Ripped Fuel with MaHuang (aka. Ephedra). I'm publicly quitting using it today.

I first used it in college. It gave me the extra energy I needed to keep up my cardio & weight workouts four times a week, TaeKwonDo classes twice a week, and badminton three times a week. Yeah, I was an insane RSF junkie. I got high off the sweating and the competition, enhanced at least two-fold by the Ripped Fuel.

I stopped using Ripped Fuel within a year after first starting. The week after I stopped, I had the most horrible migraine headaches ever. MaHuang, like speed, is addicting, and coming down off of regular use of it is painful. I didn't pick it up again until relatively recently...

Why do I want to quit now?

Most of you can take it with no problems, and should consider taking it if you're looking for a performance boost or leaning out quickly while maintaining/building musclemass. Hell, I'd recommend you try it out and see what it can do for you.

But it's not for me. I'm too susceptible to becoming addicted to or dependent on substances that have the type of effect Ripped Fuel (and e) has on me. The recommended daily dosage is about 4 pills. I've never used more than one a day, no more than 4 times a week. Still, just the one pill in the mornings before I run hypes me up until at least mid-afternoon. I'm unnaturally happy and alert. Days I don't use it, I feel significantly more tired, slow, and sad... and I crave the feeling of floating through my workouts and through the day on it's wings.

So I'm throwing the bottle out now. I don't need it.

For the record, I never used it during Tuesday night rollerhockey games. All that was my own pure & natural, unadulterated energy. (Jen-ergy? :P )

After the end of this month, I'll either be working for Sun from home or I'll be joining the ranks of the unemployed for the second time in two years. 'Course, I'm praying hard for the former.

They're taking down my Sun account after this weekend, so I've been transferring essential work-related files, along with personal files, to my home computer (which isn't even mine - I borrowed it from a supernice friend). I have a bunch of personal IM logs, collected during my year and a half here, and I couldn't help but browse through a couple of them for over an hour...

At first the logs were amusing. Then they began to disgust me.

Life was setup so differently for me a year and a half ago. Different agenda, different outlook, etc... In 2001 and earlier this year, I conversed over IM in a matter befitting one who doesn't have much to lose by being so open. No-holds-barred. I said whatever I wanted (on this blog too). I was all talk and not much action, and I knew it... and that's what made it easy for me to be playful and to boldly talk about the taboo, to gossip, to express thoughts-run-rampant, and let asssumptions fly...

I feel I've come a long way since those old logs... And I don't really care to look back at how I "spoke" and what I spoke of then, who I presented to others, and how I compensated for whatever I lacked in face-to-face social interactions and real-life adventures.

I should've started a private journal sooner than end-of-April this year.

Huh? What?

That's me. Wondering what I'm hearing. All the time. Seems like the volume on everything has been turned down a few notches lately. People talk real softly, quickly, mumbly... listen to their music at a level barely audible above the background noise... watch TV with the volume so low I'm learning how to lip-read.

I'm going deaf at an alarming rate, or I just get more out of higher levels, maybe overdosage, of auditory stim. So when you're driving me around in your car, listening to the radio or your CDs, pump up the volume! When I'm watching your TV, crank it up! And try not to mumble. Enunciate for me, please.

The last time I tried composing songs and jamming tunes on my keyboard was back in college. I discovered very quickly how difficult it is to do. To be musically creative. To be original. It's such a gift.

I grew up listening to not much more than classical and Christian music, the only types of music my parents allowed me to listen to. It wasn't until, in HS, I got my driver's license, (a car, and some freedom) that I was able to listen to other genres of music. Though I enjoyed many other genres, they simply didn't come out of me when I attempted creating my own songs on the keyboard. All that came out sounded simplistic-asian-lovesong-ish or christian-praise-and-worship-ish (to my dismay/horror), unintentionally tinged with longing... and I tended to linger within the minor keys. I gave up.

My dad is an avid music lover. His dad before him was was, and his brothers are as well. Music lovers and musicians. This love of music and musicianship may be the biggest thing my dad passed down to me. Dad has always believed I also have his creativity... I want to believe him.

Creativity could save me...

These new shoes look great on me, are versatile, the right style, and they work with all of my outfits. Could wear 'em everyday... if it weren't for how they fit. I can wear them for short periods of time... But any longer, then blisters... pain...

Maybe the break-in period is almost over. Maybe in time my feet will conform to the shape of the shoes. Maybe calluses will develop, and they'll cease being uncomfortable. Maybe they're just the wrong damn shoes for me... No returns, no exchanges. I paid a price for them, so I gotta wear them. Until I find and/or can afford a better fit...

More time to myself. Preoccupation with just my own thoughts and feelings increases (and you thought that was elevated enough). Communication and the ability to communicate with others decreases further. I become interesting only to myself or to a few. So self-absorbed I am.

Why? Because I need to be? Have I neglected myself so much in the past? Am I just prone to be this way? Or am I subconsciously retreating? From what? Wired this way from the beginning? Am I uncomfortable in these new shoes?

Metaphorical new shoes. No real new shoes for me... still waiting to check out the discount store on the corner. I own eight pairs: two pairs of boots, one pair of dressy heels, one pair of semi-dressy work shoes, two pairs of heeled sandals, gym shoes & sneakers. That's it.

As of today, I am...

Jen*ni*fer Jen*hue Y*i*m
jen*nie, jen*nius, pLushious, sweetie

female
taurus
agnostic (for now)
project coordinator
45k/year
pianist
dreamer

5'3"
119
chinese
korean
dark brown long lashes
dark brown w/ highlights

born in sf bay area
live in sf bay area
uc berkeley
molecular & cell biology

gym
driving
dancing
drinking
eating

travelling
learning
loving

speed
sweat
sun

not partnered
not looking
considering looking for:
open
genuine
vulnerable
easy smile
musician
stamina
thinker

no flings

happy, yet unfulfilled

Afraid of being...

* I'm afraid of being unaccepted and/or ignored
* I'm afraid of being misunderstood
* I'm afraid of being average and/or ordinary
* I'm afraid of being fat, ugly, old, and slow
* I'm afraid of being a failure at the things of great significance to me
* I'm afraid of being unfulfilled for the majority of life
* I'm afraid of being wasteful with my time & talents and regretting it sorely at the end
* I'm afraid of being robbed of life ahead of my schedule

* I'm afraid of being ignorant of the Truth for the rest of my life, though I never stop searching for it, and therefore, never getting rid of the Empty....

I should work on sitting, standing, and walking with a straighter back. I need to correct my posture.

The shroud of self-pity has lifted. Since 10am, I've been mourning, along with the rest of America, the tragedy of last year today. Non-obligatory, genuine empathy. Though I am still not mature enough to face the subject of death gracefully, without going into a mental tailspin, I am dealing with it as best as I can...

If only true clarity/lucidity came in pill form... (but it doesn't, 'cuz if it did, you and I both know I'd be all over it by now).

To look or not to look? That is, perhaps, the current question.

Insomnia. Thoughts, not-yet dreams, whir and blur... Thoughts with no direction. Incomplete, half-conscious thoughts... weakened by fatigue and the coldness...the coldness exacerbated by the vast amount of bed beside me. I open my eyes and I start to feel too soon... before complete consciousness occurs... The tears well too quickly... before I'm able to pick out the specific thoughts that cause them and attempt to snuff them out. I close my eyes and slip back into the whir and blur...

Today is the one-year anniversary of a weighty and sorrowful event that has affected many, many people...

...and here I am focused solely on my own personal angst. Self-pity pays me a visit on the wrong day.

To all of those mourning loss today, I sincerely apologize for my untimely selfishness...

I know what's made me happy, happier, and happiest up to this point in my life. I can achieve all three through various means. But why settle for plain ol' happy when there's happier and happiest?

Maybe happiest would kill me quickly. But maybe it'd be worth it.

Short, ultra-happy life vs. long, mediocre-happy life, which could've been happier... but wasn't, due to restraint and knowledge there is more happiness to be had.

'Course there may be happier-than-happiest, which I haven't experienced yet... But why wait to find it? Why wait for something that might not exist, or by some cruel irony i just can't have?

When does waiting become wasting? Wasting life..

Or maybe it wouldn't kill me, only destroy me.

Or it would still kill me, but my soul would live on. Then what would become of my soul?

I struggle. I really do.

I imagine that in 5-10 years, I won't be thinking as much about the next thing to get myself into... I think less about it now than I did when I was younger. In 5-10 years, I think it's more likely than not that I'll have a family (yes, resorting to living conventionally), and I'll be spending a lot more time thinking about what's next for them than what's next for just me.

If I don't have a family in 5-10 years, that'd be something to do next... I think I would try to set one up, even if just to be able to compete with all my friends who have one.

What is the Truth?

"The whole Truth, and nothing but the Truth..."
"You can't handle the Truth!"
"Truth is stranger than fiction."
"Truth-or-Dare"
"The Truth. It's out there."
"...and the Truth shall set you free."
"Truth is relative."
"I am the way, the Truth, and the Life."
"There is no absolute Truth."

You'd think I'd stop asking...but I truly doubt I ever will.

If I had a few bux to blow away today (I don't), I'd make a trek down to Dave & Busters or another arcade game place and spend a day playing car-racing games. Waste of time? Maybe... But that is the only thing I can think of that I'd wanna do today with a few extra bux. Tomorrow, it'll probably be something different...

Sometimes I waste time worrying about wasting time, wasting life... I'm going to try not doing that for a day or two.

Are our lives running in parallel or what?? I was gonna go shopping for new underwear today (or tomorrow) too. Wow.

I guess the suckiest is still being plain misunderstood, no matter what you say or believe, whether it be truth or lie.

It sux even more when the truth is so unbelievable because it really isn't the truth, but that it's still in your best interest to believe a lie and to tell a lie.

It sux when the truth is so unbelievable that you're forced to tell a lie, just so people won't think you're lying.

Sitting in a boring meeting at work today, it occurred to me that it could do a whole lotta people a great deal of good to regularly look at themselves in the mirror, stare deeply into their own eyes, and try to say outloud as sincerely as possible,

"I love you."

Doing so could help these people for the following reasons:

1) Some may never (ever or again) have the opportunity to say "I love you" to anyone else, though they may so badly wish to. Saying it to their reflection in the mirror just might suffice or help stave the crave in the interim. Just might.

2) Some may never (ever or again) hear "I love you" from anyone else, though they so badly wish to. And maybe saying it to themselves might take care of some of that need too. Maybe.

3) If one day, someone realizes he/she really means it, that he/she truly does love himself/herself, though no one else may, or they may never love another being in the world... that'd be quite awesome in itself! Might even help with 1) and 2)... Actually, I'm willing to bet it will.

I would rather be remembered as "intellectually stimulating"... than just as "the athletic girl with pretty, long hair."

Yes, I know that means making major changes. I must make a huge and genuine (and long overdue) effort to get rid of my lifelong fears of hurting, disappointing, and/or angering people. These fears have ruled my life. I must combat my shyness, and allow my true personality shine through (as it does here)... not let it hide behind my outward appearance.

I refuse to limit my desires to what my level of income will accomodate.

I will not allow my level of income to define me or how much I get out of this life. For the sake of happiness? Crockery!! The very pursuit of happiness (through whatever means self-discovery reveals is necessary), along with the progression toward the achievement of personal goals, including the elevation of one's overall status in society, perhaps facilitated by money and fueled by competition, provides more purpose/meaning to life than the simple acceptance of the status quo or of what fate (or god?) has dealt...

I have only one life to live. I will make of it what I want to make of it. My desire to make most of it, and to not be held back by changeable logistics, such as income level, will push me to rise above.

Sometimes I feel so left out 'cuz I don't have the extra money to buy or burn myself cds like other ordinary people. (See, it's these little things too... not just the laptops and the digital cameras.) I am confined to the crap that's on the radio stations these days. There's a whole lotta music I can't talk ever experience or talk about... It makes me sick knowing about but being able to have all that I'm missing.

I've been binge eating lately. It's either psychological (what am I substituting food for?) or cycle-logical (that time of the month again?). Whatever it is, it aint good...

Anyone wanna buy a queensize bed off me? Or need any housecleaning done? Yardwork?

It was a summer of excess. It could've been even more excessive, but any more would not have made it any better. I had just enough so that I am able to justify the excess by the outcome of it. Well, I try to...

It's just unsettling when financial limitations contribute a great deal to my limitations as a friend. I find myself sacrificing some friendships to avoid being perceived as a golddigger by those who are closer or who help fund/support my current lifestyle. And, of course, that too is dependent-on/determined-by my financial limitations.

Double fuck.

And I still have that monster of a headache.

I've run out of money again.

"Mommy, it's with a great amount of shame and humility that I'm asking you for money to help me pay for this month's rent. Just two or three hundred, and just for the next two weeks... until I get my next paycheck."

"Oh my Prodigal Daughter, it's with a great amount of righteous concern and admonishment that I'm asking you to come to church with us this Sunday, and perhaps every Sunday afterwards, and to please move back home."

Fuck.

(BTW, this conversation did not actually take place. It's satire, aiming to show why I cannot/willnot ask my parents for money.)

Personal Quote of the Day: "Ugh. I ate too much meat. Now I have a headache."

I did. And I still do. One superduper bigfat throbbing painful headache. I think it'll be a long while before I do two bbqs in a row on a scorching hot day.