Co-hosting a small houseparty tonite... I'll have myself some fun telling people about my plastic-surgery-gone-wrong when they ask me what-the-hell happened to my face.

It's time for the annual New Year's Resolutions.

Some people scoff at the tradition or choose not to make annual resolutions for some other reason. I guess most people figure they can just make goals and changes throughout the year, as/if necessary. I like having a bunch of resolutions to come back to a year later, to smile or laugh at how little or how much I've actually accomplished.

RECAP of 2002:

Dropped:
Rollerhockey
Ripped fuel
Drinking to get drunk
Living in oblivion (aka wallowing in the haze)
Living with the boyfriend
Having a boyfriend
Wearing makeup
Keeping AIM logs
Saving sent email
Repression
Searching for the Truth
Kissing strangers

Picked up:
Clarity
Singlehood
My anti-drug
Blogging with the audience in mind
Smoking "socially"
Clubbing solely for the music and dancing
Spending more time with family

Best nite: Summer houseparty
Worst day: Moving Eric/Cyberfest fiasco
Worst nite: June 4
Best decision: to leave Dave
Worst decision: (tie) to take two the first time, and to drop the 2nd time

Even without having begun my travels or paid off my debts or found the career of my dreams or settled down with a life partner, with all the things I've seen and done, realized and let go of, I can easily say that 2002 has been the BEST YEAR of my life. It tops 1999, the former title-holder.

I know and like who I am, and I know who I want to be. I know what I really need and what I don't need. I don't have all the answers to the biggest questions, but now I know I don't need those answers to live and to live happily. Whether by grace of God, pure luck, or sheer will, I am going to live on into 2003!

2003 RESOLUTIONS:

* Improve my memory. My memory and speed of recollection have gotten noticeably worse this year. (Can I blame drugs and alcohol?) Sometimes I feel as if I have twen-age Alzheimer's. I gotta stop it from getting worse by actively exercising my brain. I need to start learning again.

* Learn general world history. I never cared about history in the past. But I now realize what it can do for me. I can travel within the past. And with a better working knowledge of the the past, I'll be able to understand, evaluate, and appreciate current events better ... and find the relevance of the past and the current to my life.

* Learn a new instrument.

* Create something beautiful and moving, that captures and conveys who I am and how I feel... if only for myself.

* Weigh 115lbs or less. Lose 10lbs of fat and gain about 5lbs of muscle.

* This. Or better yet, live a more blogworthy life. Spend less time in my inner world, and more time observing and learning within the world we share.

Predisone has me wired tonite. The doc already warned me... said some people are actually fond of the effects of this stuff.

I've decided that I dislike movies about relationships that try to reveal to you the raw reality of relationships, and that present you a cast of a few very generalized, almost-stereotypical characters... one or more of with whom you're supposed to identify.

You may vaguely or closely identify with one or more characters in such a movie... but when it's over, whether or not you got anything worthwhile out of the movie, you continue to question which one of those characters' lives most resembles yours or doesn't, why you took sides with certain characters and not with others, etc. Then you resent feeling compelled to compare/contrast who you are with the characters in the movie... especially when the characters aren't that savory or admirable, and when they've all got issues that you have already dealt with in your own life or not, or have been trying to avoid... and in reality, neither you nor most of people you know, with whom you have relationships, are much like the supposedly realistic characters in supposedly realistic relationships...

Some relationships, like a lot of people, are totally "cookie-cutter" or typical and predictable... or are easily replicable on screen. But not the kind I'm intertested in exploring. Make me a movie that presents relevant characters in some clearly unique types of relationships that work or don't work... and maybe I'll learn a thing or two.

(I just saw the movie Charlotte Sometimes. Note: mention of this movie is not a recommendation.)

Ok. What I have is a really really bad case of poison oak on my face and on a few other body parts... that I got while I was hiking on cmas day. I just saw a dermatologist and picked up some meds. I gotta take Prednisone, and coat the rashes with Calamine lotion. The rash should go away in about two weeks.

Time to drug up!!! (note the undisguisable excitement)

I've been thinking... at this point, if I had to live with this rash and look like this for the rest of my life, I might try to kill myself sooner or later... or I'd enlist in the US Army and try to die with valor.

I'll be spending a lot of time at home indoors... hopefully, no longer than two weeks of this misery. I don't wanna miss too much...

The rash hasn't ceased to get yuckier by the hour. Hasn't stopped oozing either. It's so damn disgusting. (I took some pictures, but decided not to post... for the sake of the faint at heart.)

At this rate, I won't be any good for NYE.

I'll try all day tomorrow to see a dermatologist and get some prescription meds ASAP.

Two days ago, a rash broke out on my face... AGAIN.

It worsens every day. Today, it looks the grossest yet... redness, swelling, pus... all over the bottom right side of my face, my neck, my earlobes... I'm not sure I wanna leave the house for anything, though I've got meals to eat and errands to run outside...

I should've known not to use any new facial moisturizers (mom's while I was at my parents') or lotions (the new stuff my roommates gave me for cmas). From now on, I've gotta stick strictly to Cetaphil products... the stuff I started using after the rashes on my face from the summer finally healed. In addition to breaking out in a rash on my face earlier this year (exact cause still unknown), I stopped being able to wear my old watch because I developed a allergy to the nickel in the stainless steel band.

My skin gets more sensitive from year to year. Skin problems exist on both my parents' sides. One girl cousin on each side has some form of Eczema. I need to go see a dermatologist this time, no matter what the cost.

I'm so fuckin bothered by this rash. I wonder how long it will take for it to heal. SO glad I'm not scheduled to go to anything more festive than a houseparty on NYE...

I got two digital cameras for Christmas. I am twice blessed.

Porn is fascinating.

Whether you're browsing through it online because you're bored, curious, or horny, large amounts of time manage to pass unnoticed... Before you know it, over a half an hour has flown by, and you're still looking at the stuff... still clicking on more and more, even if the majority of your clicking is done to close the myriad of pop-ups piling on top of each other.

You just can't get enough.

Pictures and movies never seem to load quickly enough either. If you don't already have ADD, you contract ADD while surfing porn. While you're waiting for something to load, you must have something else to view... Can't pause now! You're a pornoholic... click, click, click!

Every week, people find my blog through search engines when they're searching for "Petra Nemcova naked." They must be so disappointed... just as I was when I did a Google search for, quote, "cute taiwanese guys," and got only one result.

Thanks to me, now there should be two.

Live more. Blog less.

Today, my family and I went on a hike in the hills at Lake Chabot Regional Park. We hiked and went camping often when my brother and I were little.

It felt quite good spending all of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with just my family, repeating the things we used to do. In the past decade, I spent most of the holidays with my significant others instead of with family, and I always felt guilty...

I know that my family is a collection of the most important and valuable people in my life. Family always reminds me of who I really am... and that who I really am is loved by those who made me most of who I am.

General holiday warmth and cheer, my doting mom, hearing about other people's times with their families, LOTR, eating too much Chinese food, and a bunch of other random things have somehow had a combined effect on me... I've suddenly become a part of the masses of women around my age, who have within their top two or three goals of the moment finding an emotionally stable, healthy dude with a good sack o' seeds, and hopefully other nice assets, to help them father their bonny children.

Sometime last Sunday, I finally came to terms with the fact that, as a human being with ovaries, the greatest contribution and accomplishment I am most likely going to make is bearing offspring.

While waiting to discover any superpower(s) or my marketable talent(s), the one(s) I could turn into a fulfilling career, I will accept and roll with the notion that I am limited to some degree because I am woman... and that there is probably nothing more significant that I could do that a man couldn't also do, and do better, than give birth.

So... hopefully, in about 30 years, I'll still have a family, my own children, to love me and to remind me of who I am, and vice versa...

I meant to mention earlier, I did (almost didn't) go to one company holiday party on Fri nite. It was a sweet 'n lite event that I didn't really have to lose weight or get fancied up to get invited to and to go to...

I'm spending the night here at my parents' house in my old room for the first time in a very long time.

I've only been here a couple hours, and I've been transported back about 10-15 years... Sitting here on the bed, I totally feel like the frumpy teen in glasses, with no where to go on the weeknights or weekends, that I used to be.

Strangely, these mirrordoors on my closet always show me the same face, even though I get older and see an older face in every other mirror...

I feel like the last among my friends to comment on The Lord of the Rings - The Two Towers.

I saw the movie on Saturday, and I'm still thinking about it... or at least topics related to it. I've always had an affinity for the magical and fantastical. The display of imagination within the movie was phenomenal.

I would give up a lot to have the talents and jobs of any of the producers of this kind of movie. They do put in long of hours of behind-the-scenes work, and are probably paid mere pennies. I realize more and more each day that I would rather be poor but part of the creation of something that evokes emotions, than doing the easy work I'm doing right now for the rest of my life, even if it paid big bucks.

I know now that I don't need a lot of money. I've lived a lifetime without it, and I'm so used to living without it. I can go on living without it happily (as long as I get out and stay out of major debt). And I've been making new plans for my future...

Tonite, in celebration of Christmas Eve, our family (mom, dad, bro, and I) had Peking duck, ginger and scallion crab, mustard greens with special broth, house special pan-fried noodles, and beef with scallion soup at ABC Seafood Restaurant.

As usual, I was quite hesitant to get in the backseat of the car and let my dad drive us all down. Paranoia, man... but well-founded paranoia.

My dad drives aggressively and brakes hard. He exceeds 80mph on the freeway, even at night, quickly making his way into the fastlane, where he tailgates like mad. He freaks me out. And I let him know... "Dad! Don't ride up so close!!" "Dad, watch out!!" ... as my life flashes before my eyes...

Why isn't my dad a typical, passive and safe, albeit over-cautious and slowass, 61-year-old Asian male driver?

The ants are back... here in my room. The li'l squatters!

Can't blame 'em, though. It's toasty warm in here, snippy chill outside. This sort of crisp coldness reminds me of the weather up at Tahoe or in New York City during the wintertime.

My days are lightened and brightened every now and then by those random 30-second, 5-minute, half-hour, or other relatively short-length interactions I have with strangers I meet in stores and shops, at cash-registers, at the gym, waiting in line anywhere... strangers who don't expect to ever see or talk to me again, but who still take a little bit of time out of their daily grinds to quickly share something about themselves with me, whether it's a thought or a feeling, observation or experience, question or answer...

Though we will probably never see or talk again, we seem to enter into ultra-transient, totally non-committal friendships. Just for the moment, we are ol' buddies in the midst of an exchange...

The world sure does seem like a better, more humane place when people are willing to reach out and touch strangers, even if only briefly, with a hand of sympathy, empathy, comedy, wit, support, help, etc.

I'm looking for volunteer work to do between Christmas and the new year. I get the whole week off.

I wanna do soup-kitchen type of volunteer work during these holidays. I want to help strangers who are less fortunate than I am. There are a lot of them.

I'd help friends before strangers... if they all weren't already better off than I am. Bleh!

During the upcoming year, I'd like to volunteer to teach an adult or group of adults something. What could I teach? What do I know that anyone would wanna learn? Sadly, I feel as if the only thing I know that anyone would want me to teach them is the English language. Can you see me teaching ESL classes?

I feel as if I'm just about to start a long tortuous and torturous journey.

I have things to write, but I don't feel like writing them down right now.

I don't like feeling pressure to write things as I feel them or as they happen, before the momentum has passed, before I've forgotten all the details, or before someone else writes about the same or a similar topic.

3 Doors Down - When I'm Gone

Do I have this overwhelming desire to see more of the world because there is something specific I'm hoping to find?

I live 80% of my life inside my head.

It's kinda cool and kinda sad at the same time.

Stuck in constant introspection.

...because there isn't much more, nothing really new, to see on the outside around here? I probably need to get out of here. I want to get airborne, fly all around the world, look down, and descend upon new scenes... freebird fashion. Yet I'm still grounded here... by what? Security?

I've never been much of a risk-taker or a gambler. I always say that... but watch me take risks with my time and affection, no guarantees for returns on my investments...

What am I doing?!

How do I get out of here?

I kinda feel like putting up a sign on the inside of the back window of my car that reads, "You hit me, I kill you."

But then, my back window is tinted, and no one would be able to read the sign.

Cmas is short for Christmas. I don't say or write xmas because it seems a little too self-consciously, blatantly anti-Christian.

Though I'm not a Christian, I think x-ing out the "Christ" in Christmas is a too conspicuously/deliberately rebellious or overboard religio-phobic. I mean, if I managed to become great or do something great enough to have a day named after myself, it'd be a slap in the face (even after I died) if people started calling it X-day just to shorten it, or to avoid having to say my name (it isn't that long), or just so's not to come across as non-pc...

Well... I guess if whatever I did or whoever I became to have a day named after me really didn't sit right with some people's beliefs, I'd excuse their use of X-day.

If Christianity is right, and the Calvinists, those of the Reformed doctrine, and others who believe in Predestination are right, then sometime between now and the day I die, I will either be compelled or not be compelled to become a Christian. It's in my best interests to just sit back and relax, like so, until compelled or until death... since it's entirely out of my control whether I'm saved or not.

If Christianity is right, and the believers of Freewill are right, and God sincerely wishes all of mankind to be saved, then sometime between now and the day I die, God should reveal himself to me in such a big way that the choice to become a Christian will obviously be in my best interests.

We'll see what happens...

Some time ago in my silly past (no need to ask when/why), I cooked up a made-up name for myself.

Zharallyra (zhar-uh-LIHR-uh).

When I was bad, I was Zhara. When I was good, I was Allyra.

I've always thought Allyra would make a pretty baby girl name.

I think cuteness ends at 24. By 24, you're either at your cutest or you've passed your peak. After 24, cuteness is replaced by plain ol' good-looking... or not.

When you look at yourself now, can you actually see the effects of time on your face?

I can. To me, my face doesn't look the same as it did the year before, and it looks significantly different than it did two years ago. The frequency of the occurence of changes in my face seems to be accelerating. I thought the changes would occur much more gradually... that my metamorphosis into an old woman would be a long and smoothly transitional process.

I'm starting to see a mid-late 20-year-old in the mirror and in pictures. Maybe I could pass for a 24-year-old, but not any younger... No more babyfat on my face, and I don't feel youthfully cute anymore.

Guys go from cute to handsome to distinguished. But what about women?

Had lunch with my former Sun manager, Dick, today. He mentioned that I look a lot more peaceful and relaxed now. That must be compared to how I might've looked during the summer, and maybe even in early fall when a ton of stressful things were riding my back...

I didn't know that there's a noticeable difference in how I look corresponding to how I feel now vs. then... or that if there is, that Dick would pick up on it. (Anyone else notice?) Well, Dick looks a lot more peaceful and relaxed now too. He looks happier than I've ever seen him. He's been travelling...

Last Friday, we had a little Christmas Party (lunch and games) here at Sierra Atlantic. My Indian co-workers brought their family members. They sure do adore their children. It's safe to assume that all of the Indian men at this company are married... or will have wives before they hit 30, though I can't really tell how old any of them are...

Anyhow, it was announced that there were appreciation gifts for all of the employees awaiting pickup in HR. 'Course I assumed there wasn't one for me, since I'm a contractor. Then yesterday, one of the HR guys told me there's still an envelope waiting for me, and that I should pick it up the next day.

I picked it up just now. I got $50! Season's Greetings and Best Wishes...

I'm touched, and I'm not being sarcastic or facetious. That's much more than I expected. (I didn't expect anything.) That's more than I've ever gotten from an employer. I feel believed-in and appreciated. I feel motivated to work diligently and conscientiously, and not to goof off here at work all day when my manager's not in. (eh, well... maybe not so much the latter...)

Sometimes nothing says more than a monetary gift. :P

I've been trying to contact the lady who rear-ended me. She hasn't returned my voicemails or my email.

Her full name, as it appears on the business card she gave me, is Scherazade Sohrabji... and she works at Kontiki. Maybe that isn't really her name or her place of work.

But just in case, if you know this woman or if you ever meet this woman, give her car (or her) a couple of ugly-looking dings for me, will ya?

Too much thinking. Not enough doing.

I will not snack at work.
I will not snack at work.
I will not snack at work.

My mom. Not yours. Not anyone else's. Just my mom.

If you had superpowers or special talents that made you very different from everyone else, that could be used to help/save the world and its people, would you devote your life to helping/saving the world and its people, even at the expense of companionship, conveniences, and anonymity... and despite ingratitude, unrecognition, and loneliness? Or would you try to ignore or hide your superpowers or special talents, and live as ordinary a life as possible?

I figure, no matter how ordinary a life I tried to live, it would never be as close to ordinary as I wanted. My life would still be significantly different from everyone else's. I would constantly struggle with what makes me different and what to do with it... if I did nothing with it.

I would choose to help/save the world and its people.

I would be the underdog hero.

I am different.

Sometimes I feel as if I suffer because I'm different.

Am I different because I'm destined for greatness? Or am I destined for greatness because I am different? Am I destined to be alone because I'm different? Or maybe I'm destined to be alone because I'm destined for greatness...

There's gotta be a good reason I'm different.

I have good roommates. They don't seem to expect more from me than I give.

Anxious. Anxious for what? Maybe anxious for love...

I'm slipping. Curse these rainy days.

Definitely anxious for our house's Holiday Party tonite to be over. Starts at 9. I just got out of the shower. I made 25 goody-bags full of cookies today. It took me a helluva long time to make those. I hope we have enough alcohol here. May the liquor flow freely tonite.

Some days, more than others, I long to be loved.

Today is one of those days.

It's finally the end of a longass day...

I left work around 4:30pm, a little later than I meant to. It was dark and slow on 101... stop and go all the way, a car behind me driving without headlights on... Looked like trouble, but what could I do? I was stuck in the 3rd lane from the left. The next thing I know, I'm hit from behind. Rear-ended by the car w/ no lights. I moved up a half a foot to put some space between me and the car before I got out to check the damage and approach the car that hit. The car hits me again! My heart was sinking about as fast as the rage was welling up. What the fuck??

I stopped traffic completely in my lane, got out of my car to confront this idiot who's just made my stressful day a lot worse... The lady in the car looked as if she was scared shitless. One look at her pale face and wide eyes, and the empathy started flowing involuntarily. I was as uncomfortable and freaked out standing there, my ass nearly in the fast lane... cars behind watching me, upset at their mishap of being in the same lane... other cars honking as cars try to change into the fastlane... I asked the lady for her insurance info, but she didn't provide right away, mumbling something about her brakes suddenly giving out and not knowing what was wrong.

then she asked me if I'm ok. I told her to get out of the car so we could both look at any damage to my car. Hasty glance revealed only a few minor scratches on the black bumper. It was dark, I couldn't see much, and I was feeling increasingly anxious to get outta the scene. The lady returned to her car, and I talked to her through her rolled-down window... told her I didn't want to get her in trouble over a couple small scratches. She gave me her business card, told me her name... Scherazade. I can't even pronounce it. The cars were zooming by behind me... I told her to be more careful, got back in my car and drove off. I forgot to tell her to turn on her headlights.

Several hours later, it all sunk in... along with the nausea. I'm so disappointed in myself for handling the accident the way I did. I should've insisted she provide me with her insurance info. I should've been more harsh. I should've taken a closer look at my bumper. I should've gotten her to pull over to the right. I should've at least noted the make and model of her car and jotted down her license plate number. All these I-should'ves... I had panicked. I was moved by her fear. I was paranoid. I just wanted to get the hell out of there as soon as possible, willing to let the lady get away with rear-ending me. I'm the idiot.

I called her around 10:30pm, got her voicemail, and left a message to call me back and provide me with the information I should've gotten at the scene. If she doesn't call back, and I can't reach her, I'm stuck with an imprint of her license plate holder on my bumper... Another lesson learned.

Earlier this year, some of my friends and acquaintances got into playing poker with a lot of real cash. $40+ was (and still is) a lot to me. They were blowing away (well, giving to each other) a whole month's worth of meals in one night! It made me sick to my stomach. The money they brought to the table would've made me feel rich for weeks. I couldn't play the game 'cuz I didn't have even an extra $10 to put out there.

Thankfully, things are a little better for me now. If I suddenly achieved great wealth, I'd buy myself a laptop, a digital camera, and a dream house for my parents. I would also set aside some money for travel and further education. But I would undoubtedly use the rest to help out the less fortunate than me. And I'm not saying that because it's Christmastime, and I'm "caught up in the spirit of giving." I've always wanted to have enough to give away. I see need everywhere. I want to give. I want to help.

I would not lay any of my wealth on a fuckin game table...

I can't lie well. I wear my emotions on my face. I'm broke and already have huge outstanding debts. Therefore, I'd make the worst poker player...

And even if I wasn't the worst, if I was actually any good at it, I'd never play poker to pay back my debts. Why play a money game if not to win money? I've hardly played, and I've hardly won. Some people play for "fun." I don't get that. I don't get enough pleasure out of the game, with or without winning it. Either you play for money, or you play to mentally and psychologically beat down your opponents. If you play "friendly" games amongst your friends, how much fun can you get out of taking down their poker faces and outsmarting them out of their money? Ok, maybe that can be a lot of "fun"... in a mean, egotistical sort of way.

At the end of the night, if I don't win big, what do I have to show for all the time I just spent playing the game? I come away with nothing. If I play sports, I burn calories. If I spend on drinks, I get a nice buzz and maybe more if I'm lucky. If I pay for club cover, the music's raises my spirits while I dance my cares away... etc. But what do I get at the end of a poker game?

Well... if friends are interested in playing tonite, without real money, I'll give the game another chance... at providing me with some amusement. As I've said before, it's worse to lose without playing at all than to lose after trying to play. Yeah, yeah... Poker is a skill game. The more games I play, the better I should get. Let me lose fair and square, and then I'll move on to bitching about something else.

What would I be doing right now if I wasn't here at work hardly working?

I'd be wandering around in Union Square, window-shopping, people-watching, taking in the season's smells and sounds... I'd mosey into Virgin Megastore and into the glassed-off area on the 2nd floor to sample the electronica...

What I should be doing with my freetime is writing Christmas cards. Ai-Ai-Ai! Not much time left... I wait until this time of the year to write back to the people who have sent me snail mail during the year. People, go get yourselves email address and IM IDs, please! It'll take me hours to write personalized messages to each. I've never written a newsletter before. Maybe I should try to do that this year...

Why do I bother to write back to these people? Should I let them fade out of my life? Will I ever really see or interact with these people again on a meaningful level? I still care enough about keeping in touch with these people, these now-somewhat-distant links to my past and nostalgia... and I don't want to lose their yearly letters and cards. Writing back and forth, though infrequently, is kinda like exchanging fan-mail.

Here I am... and again.

If I'm not completely and utterly an INFP, I dunno what I am...

High-five to a fellow underdog.

We are already winning. YEEEAAHH! Let's get out there and WIN SOME MORE!

My parents are asking me what I want for Christmas... and that is giving me some grief. I feel like a child. My parents seem to love making me feel that way...

I actually have a hard time accepting gifts... unless I know or feel as if receipt of the gift is a mutually beneficial transaction. If I feel the giver gets as much out of giving me the present as I do receiving it, I can receive it gracefully and gratefully. I've been lucky...

But otherwise, I have a hard time. I hate owing people. I can't be bought. Most of the time, I feel as if I can't pay people back the way they'd want me to... I can't give them what they'd want in return for their gifts. My time, my money, my things... I don't have much of those. I have my care and concern... but people don't always know or value that. Sometimes I feel as if my body is my only would-be, fast-selling, in-demand commodity...

I think the hardest thing for me to give in return for gifts and favors is my in-person time. For whatever reason, it's always been hard to give that up...

This one's better:

"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is Music."
-- Aldous Huxley

"If we could sniff or swallow something that would, for five or six hours each day, abolish our solitude as individuals, atone us with our fellows in a glowing exaltation of affection and make life in all its aspects seem not only worth living, but divinely beautiful and significant, and if this heavenly, world-transfiguring drug were of such a kind that we could wake up next morning with a clear head and an undamaged constitution-then, it seems to me, all our problems (and not merely the one small problem of discovering a novel pleasure) would be wholly solved and earth would become paradise."
-- Aldous Huxley

Uhhh... Immediate reaction: this is quite a self-contradictory, self-defeating, shortsighted, desperate, silly, fantastical statement. Secondary reaction: I feel a guilty "yeah, what if"... ??

NO, NO, NO.

I hate asking people for help. I absolutely HATE IT.

I love to help. I try to volunteer my help whenever I can identify situations in which I can be of use (but not be used). I don't imagine I have that much that other people could use. I feel important and worthy when I can help someone in some way, with what little I have, what little I know...

I used to be easily taken advantage of... I'm not so much anymore, so don't even try...

But I hate asking other people for help. I do it when I'm desperate, or if I feel close enough to the person to not feel embarrassed about my needs, or if the person already owes me in some way... Asking for help is a big blow to my pride. Another unpleasant side-effect is that it often reminds me of how selfish and spoiled and unsympathetic other people are...

I am lucky. I know I am lucky.

More than ever before, I appreciate each extra day I have to live. I appreciate more and more the things I do have. You can take them away from me, but I've been there before... with much less. You can't break me. Not right now. Not while I'm so lucky...

(1:30am... no where near my computer)

I'm tired, but I can't seem to fall asleep. I've been having a hard time sleeping lately. And not 'cuz of the new bed...

Insomnia... and sometimes I feel like yelling, "Will someone please come here and give me a record-breaking, body-rocking, scream-worthy, flesh-gripping, conk-me-out, so-i-can-sleep ORGASM... or something?!"

If there's already an alcoholic beverage by that name, here's a hundred bucks, gimme 5 of them, keep the change...

I re-watched Black Hawk Down today.

I've always liked watching war movies... something you might not have guessed about me. I also like watching documentaries about wars past. I don't usually remember the details after I watch these movies and documentaries. But I still get something out of watching them.

They show me men (not women) displaying extreme courage and strength that I never had and could never have. I admire these men who can do what I could never do.

Weekend nights out aren't what they used to be. Slightly different scene, similar people... totally different feeling. The synergy seems to be gone... and I don't feel as willing to spark it back up.

The urgent craving for alcohol is still there. It's in my blood... and I don't expect it to ever go away. But I won't try to repair a night out at a crappy venue housing a crappy crowd assaulting my ears with crappy music, by dumping wads of my own hard-earned cash at the bar for the shortlived buzz... like I would've in the past.

Cinderella leaves around midnight, before she unravels... goes home sober and smokes a cigarette or two... and that completes her night.

JD helped me pick up the twinsize today using his truck. JD's always willing to help me out. We help each other out now and then with this and that... And we never count pennies.

JD is one of the most interesting people I've ever met.

I met him early in 2000, during my second position at Sun. He and a couple other guys in his small production company were doing the AV for a 3-day event my department had organized. He was drunk on martinis every night... and came to work fiercely reeking of alcohol and emanating mass quantities of pheromones. I met him at a time when he didn't care if he lived or died (a fact I didn't know until at least a year later).

He almost fled the country half a year later... was gonna start up a new life in Costa Rica running a small paragliding outfit. I visited him up in Tahoe a month or so before he decided not to become a fugitive, and he took me 4x4-ing in his truck. I'd never done that before, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

I offered to pay JD for his help today, but he turned me down... like he always does. "Do you know how much I earned this week? I earned 10k, just this week. I'll be earning 45k this month by the end of it. I don't need your money. Keep your money!"

These days, JD stays afloat by extorting criminals through this business. (That's him in the picture of the Ferrari at the bottom of the page.) He met his current business partner while doing work furlough last year... Not sure how long his latest stint will last... He's always up to something new.

There's never a dull conversation with JD. Lately, he loves to talk about the amateur sex videos he made with his "nympho" girlfriend, whose real name is Svetlana.

The thing I like the most about JD is that he always has a smile on his face, a certain spring to his gait, and radiates cheerfulness and positivity no matter what kinda trouble he was in or how close to it he gets. His attitude inspires me... not to become some sort of criminal or take big risks, but to always look for the brightest side of negative situations, to be generous, to be carefree but not careless, and to never give up on life... no matter how shitty the outlook.

Pedro's girlfriend is in town. She got in from Colombia today. From what I saw in the dark as I headed out the door to dinner, she's cute and seems a little shy. Actually, she kinda looked like she could be Pedro's sister. We exchanged quick smiles and hi's. I don't think she speaks much English. She will be living with us for the next couple of weeks. Four of us will be sharing one shower...

What's gonna happen with our roommate, Alex, still hasn't been decided.

I sold my queensize bed last weekend 'cuz I needed some extra money for Christmas gifts. That, and I realized I really don't need such a big bed. I'm relatively short and small, and I haven't been bringing home any lovers lately. So tomorrow I'm picking up my old twinsize from my parents' house, the one I slept in from the time I was out of the crib until I left the house for college.

So much pressure in December. Pressure to buy things, pressure to eat things, pressure to go to things, pressure to do a lot of things...

Too much pressure.

Have you ever sat rather quietly through a heated argument that is going on around you, that you're obligated to be a part of, though you're not quite participating in it... and all the while you can't help grinning sheepishly and trying to stifle soft chuckles 'cuz it all seems so ridiculous? Still, you don't want to appear to not care about what's going on, while deriving amusement from the stubbornness of the people involved... Rather, you feel so above the argument, able to understand the problem and see a solution... but you are powerless to help the people out in the midst of the din and the momentum of the argument...

My roommates are still trying to figure out our housing situation. Stay tuned...

Why uphold and abide by a moral code that compromises, inhibits, limits, or sabotages your life... unless you truly believe in karma, or you're convinced that there is some force out there that ensures that "what goes around comes around," or you know for a fact that by doing so, you will actually save your soul?

Three years after the movie came out, my favorite movie character is still fearless Ricky Fitts from American Beauty. You gotta love him just for that famous line, which I've always said he stole from my mouth...

"Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in."

Now give me a digital camera or a digicamcorder so I can try to show you how that feels for me...

My mouth needs constant occupation. I'm constantly snacking here at work, and when I'm not, I'm fighting urge to... I need to get myself a Costco-sized stash of gum.

"Too much information!"

... is what people say when you mention or hint at something about yourself or about people you both know, that they think they probably shouldn't know, or that makes them a bit uncomfortable, or causes them to have a reaction that they don't like (ex. they get a visual that gives them chills), or a new viewpoint that they don't want...

I don't think you'll hear me say "too much information" that often. Sensational information and the sordid details are always welcome (unless they involve a whole lotta blood and guts). It's usually better to know than to not know. Besides, I don't think there's much that you can tell me that I haven't already imagined...

I just found out that one of my 4 roommates is planning on moving out at the end of January. She's been living in the house den... helping the rest of us keep our rents relatively low.

I'm not sure what's going to happen with the rest of us now. My other roommates don't want another person in the den, but that would mean our rents are gonna go up by at least 100bux... and none of us can really foot a higher rent. I gotta decide what's best for me today... before 4 of us get together and come up with a "best solution" and present it among the 5 of us later tonite.

I was thinking last night... If I was a guy, I don't think I could ever make love to an ugly woman. If she had a smokin' hot body, maybe... But I'd always make sure to turn off the lights and close my eyes and keep her turned around most of the time... and I'd only fling her for a short period of time. I couldn't bring myself to wake up to her face every single day of the rest of my life, even if I was lonely or frustrated...

It's not these little games that matter, but the one Big One. And I am not losing that one yet... I lose when I forget that I am going to win.

I don't like having a reputation for being too serious sometimes.

To win, I must play. To play, I must get my lazy ass offa the bed and the couch, outta the house and outta my comfort zones, into the ring and into the fight...

All I feel like doing right now is sleeping for hours, maybe even days... and waking up right before the weekend.

I am gonna go for a run now.

I'll show y'all what I'm really made of...

m***n**s (3:15:36 PM): hey you know what's funny?
m***n**s (3:16:31 PM): after game night george asked if you were really competitive when you played hockey
[me] (3:16:43 PM): hahaha.
[me] (3:16:46 PM): y'd he ask that?
[me] (3:16:51 PM): i wasn't grumpy 'cuz we lost.
[me] (3:16:55 PM): i was grumpy 'cuz i was tired.
[me] (3:16:55 PM): :-P
m***n**s (3:16:59 PM): well based on your play :-)
[me] (3:16:59 PM): ([you're] thinking...
[me] (3:17:02 PM): "yeah rite")
[me] (3:17:07 PM): y how did i play?
m***n**s (3:17:15 PM): like you wanted to win that's all
[me] (3:17:21 PM): hahaha.
[me] (3:17:25 PM): well, i always want to win.
[me] (3:17:29 PM): i am not always a gracious loser.
m***n**s (3:17:35 PM): i bet you can guess how jeff and i answered O:-)
[me] (3:17:41 PM): uhhhh.
[me] (3:17:50 PM): on a scale of 1 to 10, what do i get?
[me] (3:18:02 PM): u mean it was that obvious from how i played board games?
m***n**s (3:18:14 PM): i guess
m***n**s (3:18:20 PM): maybe 7-8?
[me] (3:18:26 PM): oh that's not so bad..
m***n**s (3:18:37 PM): well i don't know any other 7-8's!
m***n**s (3:19:00 PM): i'm leaving room for a real crazy person :-)

Didn't realize it was that obvious... I gotta tone it down, suck it up, learn how to lose well, and look like I'm having fun despite...

I never learned how to lose 'cuz I never wanted to assume there would be times I'd lose. But my inability is giving me bad publicity, and I wanna live a long, low-blood-pressure life...

My dad turned 61 over the weekend. He doesn't look 61 to me. Against the stereotype, he doesn't ever drink or smoke (or beat my mom)...

Over the years, mom's grown more paranoid than dad... while dad's steadily losing the paranoia that seemed to overshadow him during my childhood years. An above-normal level of paranoia seems to run in both the Yim and Fu families.

I don't much mind my own paranoia, though. I'd rather be suspicious, guarded, and prepared than naive and regularly unpleasantly surprised.

Where's that damn blasted reset button?